Dangerous

There are realizations that should never happen. Like the one I had tonight that I really don’t want to stay in this job for a year, or that there are several jobs I could do better than the people doing them. It’s not entirely unexpected, given the size of our operation, and I’m not disenfranchised enough to make an issue of it. I’ll just keep doing what I’m doing, the way I’m used to doing things. I’m not going to half-ass it like other people do, due to laziness or ineptitude. I have standards (hard to believe, I know) and I need to stick to those if I’m going to get out of here and find something better. I spent a lot of time looking at the SND site tonight, and all I could think was “I wish I could do that here.” Not a chance in hell, unless it’s some one-time deal or special project. I’ve grown to hate the special project I’m working on right now, mostly because the marketing types will fuck it up and they’re going to make me design something I *know* will look like complete and total ass. Then again, I can try to make this thing kick so much ass they’ll have to like it. Hah. Right.

So the three-month mark is approaching. It will be here Saturday. A lot has happened in three months. Hell, a lot has happened in the past month. Am I where I thought I’d be? Hell no. I didn’t think I’d get through the first night, the first day, the first week. But here I am with a job, a new housing prospect and who knows what with the social life. I finally have a social life, and it’s more enjoyable than when I was married. It’s refreshing to hang out with different people, to not be tied down. Going out by myself isn’t too horrible, unless you count being hit on by old drunk guys. Time alone is nice, but there’s nothing wrong with hanging with ... whoever decides to call me back. I lead a pretty simple life at this point. Work, sleep, internet, some gaming, some drinking, some socializing. It’s not perfect, but it’s mine, and I don’t hate it. It’s been a long time when I really felt content. I don’t need the ex to be happy. That’s something I never thought would happen. But I’ve made it. I’ve had a lot of help, but I don’t need him (except for the $700 he still owes me). I’ve got friends volunteering to help me move, and that’s almost 2 months away.

As for that sense of detachment, well, I think it's starting to fade. I'm not sure what I should think about that. I'm not sure what I'm ready for. But I guess I'll find out.