i try not to worry but i always worry

Dear K-

Things have been set spinning. I have been trying to concentrate on finding things that make me happy to smooth the stormy seas. The guilty pleasures that inexplicably bring me peace. Unfortunately, there is never enough time to devote to these diversions as I might wish.

I almost called in sick to work this week, even though I was not plagued by any physical ailment. The environment in the office has been terrible, and I have very little to look forward to in the morning except the moment I get to walk back out the door and head home. I started a jigsaw puzzle this past weekend. It is one of my aforementioned diversions. I have discovered that I am rarely more at ease than when I am alone, working tirelessly on a puzzle. I forget to eat. I forget to sleep. I am completely disconnected and it feels so inexplicably blissful. On Tuesday, I wanted to call in sick and just work all day on my puzzle. Of course, the voice of reason came in the form of a boyfriend who reminded me my patients depend upon me. So I begrudgingly carried off to work, put in long hours and in the momentum of the day momentarily forgot about what I had abandoned at home as I focused my attention on those who had sought me out for help. But as soon as I closed the last patient file, I remembered. It brought a sense of ease. I glided over the highways in the dark, slipped back into my home, and ate a small meal while hunched over the pieces. It was everything I could have wanted.

Another diversion I re-discovered was writing smutty detective stories. I know these tales will never be read. I know that they are trash. But it feels good to be productive. It feels good to be distracted from the present.

I have to go to the office holiday party. It isn’t going to be a good time. We had an employee who was leaving us at the end of the month to pursue a different, more lucrative job opportunity. She was leaving on good terms. I liked her. I wished her the best of luck. However, my boss made a very sloppy decision yesterday to tell her she was not allowed to come to the office holiday party because he felt betrayed about her leaving. He told her she wasn’t welcome because she made everyone feel unhappy. She rightfully felt insulted, grabbed her things and left. I never got to say goodbye. I won’t get to give her the little holiday gift I purchased for her. I am just going to sit at dinner wondering how much alcohol I can sneak into my system without anyone noticing, and how long I have to stay in order to put in a good appearance before I slink back home to my puzzle.

I understand your desire to have a goal. Resolutions can be helpful. I have been trying to improve my disposition, hence the resurgence of my diversions to help give me a sense of purpose. Something to do with my hands. I have failed with more broad, over-arching aims, so I have set myself to simple tasks. Puzzles. Writing without expectations. Sometimes the smallest things can weild a large amount of psychological effect.

We’re artists, you and I. Sometimes it is easier to construct our fantasies than to confront reality. We are so used to the ease of smudging in a shadow where we see it fitting, or changing a line of dialogue if the established doesn’t flow as we’d like. It is so frustrating to not have that leisurely freedom to alter aspects of our daily lives with such ease.

It's time I start holding myself accountable for some of those artistic flourishes.

Seasonably yours,
-K