Broken but Clocked In..

I would have called off and used my PTO days but it would not have made sense to anyone other than someone who has experienced this. What would I have said my reason was? Sick? Stomach hurt? Headache? Chest pains? Watering eyes? Mentally messed up? “Hello Boss, I’m calling off because my heart is broken?” I don’t think so.

I was doing good or so I thought. It’s that thinking part that gets you. Working, moving, and keeping active are the easy tasks. Regrouping and repositioning life to live without you seems like the busy stuff that keeps me occupied. It’s the pauses, stops, and mental moments that blow the roof of the whole facade thing. Dang, I thought I was good.

I know what is was, it was the music. My EarPod whispered in my ear a jazz groove that made me feel good until a thought of you came up. It’s crazy how much you can despise a person while at the same time remember the good stuff. Now I’m cubicle bound rehearsing the mean things you’ve done and why you are not worth my time. It feels like a full blown one sided debate with no rebuttal. I don’t care how bad a thing is, you can’t take away it’s good.

Now I’m clocked in empty and it’s weird. On my breaks we would chat. Throughout my shift we would text. Now it’s just me and I can’t think of anyone else to talk to. I don’t desire a filler just to satisfy the void. I think I’ll just leave the wound open for a few and just feel the pain that comes from heartbreak and a failed relationship. I’m open for the lessons that will come from the pain of this laceration.

Let it burn? Hell its burning bad. Get a bandaid!! Not yet. Clean the wound. Not right now. Let the pain speak until you learn what you need to learn.

I’m not shattered but I know I’ve been hit. Those closest to me sense something. Those that know, are waiting for the shot and injured moose to fall at some point but I’m stumbling through it. We heard the shot, the moose took the hit to the vital organ and ran. To hell with it. It might be easier to just take the hit and fall. Guess I’ll run till I lose consciousness but why? At some point in life you don’t care to fake or put on. Another mask on top of my COVID 19 mask is just too much. I didn’t come this far to fake and pride cannot be an issue. There are no losses, just lessons remember? What damn lesson does the moose take away from being hit by the hunter seeking to fill his freezer for the winter? Who knew it was moose season? Damn I tried but my trying wasn’t enough.

I’m glad I have a little cubicle that I can retreat to. The five foot walls of my cubicle serve as imaginary arms to hug a working and broken fella. My back to the world, ergonomically typically correct, but shook.

Now I’m headed to lunch and I understand why people over eat. Bring on the dopamine, endorphins, the cookies and the chips. Who eats asparagus and kale when you are broken hearted? Let me go down with a bag of chocolate chip cookies in my hand. If you come to my door and I answer, I will be the dude with chocolate on my face, chip crumbs on my shirt, and the remote firmly in my hand. Netflix and I are going to soldier through this.

I still have four hours left. I guess I’ll sink my woes into this can of Pringles. I can see it now in the headlines, “Man overdosed on Takis and Flaming hots!! You know I’m joking right? My system can handle Takis!!! Ain’t no Rehab for Flaming Hots no way.

It’s the way it goes on the road of life!!

Next time I’ll just take the time off…

Love you much

@OvertimeWIL

2 Comments

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  1. theycalledherjonesy September 3, 2020 — 7:53 am

    Oh the memories this brings back. This was dope Wilford! I want to know what happens once they recover and find their greatness.

    Liked by 1 person

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