Back to work tomorrow, and bloody early at that.
I complain about every shift I get, I guess. I hate the 4:30 - 1:00 am shift because its just too damned late. I can't stand working 10 - 6:30 because I get so stressed from making sure that my girl is at school and that I've got something ready for dinner at night, but this 7:30 - 4:00pm crap is for the birds. The only one that's going to be worse is next week's shift that starts at 7:00am.
What makes it all worse is that the truck died and I'm stuck riding my bike or riding the bus. My sister is being an angel about it by driving my daughter back and forth to school, but I'm looking for wheels... fast. I've got a line on a minivan, my worst nightmare on so many levels, but it's up for grabs cheap. And cheap is all I can afford right now.
I've been thinking about therapy for awhile now. About how much good it's done for me. I'm being totally sarcastic here. I actually feel the reverse about it. Not to get all down and dirty about the reasons behind my various experiences with therapy in the past, but after all of it, I much prefer my own ways of dealing with my issues. Ignorance is bliss, baby.
Seriously, all therapy ever did for me was allow me to wallow in the past, focusing so much energy on negative issues that could never be solved, that would never have a complete happy ending. I was shuffled here and there so much as a child that as an adult, I have the most difficult time relating my past to anyone. I've just done it too much, and frankly, just wish I could hand out one page condensed flyers to anyone who wants to know 'what it was like when...'. And after tallying up my various ways of dealing with depression, regret, shame and anger, the final and best course of action to settle my mind is to just go out and do something. I never feel better about myself than when I'm hot, sweaty and out of breath, muscles shaky, and heart-a-racin'. A badass bike ride is the best thing for me, lately.