(Phaysis)

My first week in my new apartment; the dust is settling and I’m starting to settle in on a nest of my own. Moving out, so far, is proving to be the best gift I could have given myself to mark my 36th birthday last week. I am now, finally, my own man.

My former roomate and I have practically broken all ties, and good thing, too. Less stress, less drama. He tried to draw me into some drama last weekend; hadn’t even been moved out 18 hours and he was yelling at me about taking the cable modem; a case of I-said-You-said. The jackass stole my cable internet account without my permission, and, if I have learned right, the only way to do so would be to file a bunch of paperwork at the cable office to transfer an account from one name to another…and both parties must file. So, it looks like someone impersonated me. A heady accusation to make, but it would be fitting as a final “fuck you” to someone he no longer cared about.

After being on the phone with Time-Warner sunday, I decided that the best disposition of the modem was to go to my old apartment, open the door, attach a note to the modem that said “So Long, and Thanks for All the Fish!”, drop it and my old keys on the floor, and lock the door on my way out.

I dusted my hands on the walk back to the car.

It pleases me that we are no longer in each other’s sphere of influence. I can remove the gloves when necessary now instead of biting my bleeding tongue in an insane fit of diplomacy. That I stayed in the same household with him for almost six years speaks volumes of my insanity, laziness, fear, poverty, and an unwillingness to rock the boat. It’s a testament to intersocial constipation. I held back so much shit over the years, it just stopped flowing. The long winter. The dead season. The minutes of decay in the hour of life.

After our friendship went sour, I stopped communicating, he stopped trying. We found comfort in plausible deniability: I was simply closing my door because I didn’t want to bother him with my loud music; he closed his door because he didn’t want to bother me with his smoking. Our avoidance of each other was because we didn’t get along, but acting as such would have been unbearably direct. We had to find nonverbal excuses. Everything was unbearably passive-aggressive. We didn’t talk beyond an infrequent “hey” and a terse discussion of bills. On occasion, it was friendly, but that was just on the face of it. In private, fingers would fly. In public, tongues would wag. Our rare instances of actual contact over important issues met with inflamed egos and enraged anger. Usually, someone left the house shortly afterwards.

But no more of that.

I am in my own place now. I can stretch out. I can change. I can grow, create, do stuff without commentary, remarks, surprise. I can sit in the common area without bother. I can watch a heavy movie without the risk of someone barging in the front door dragging three strange friends and interrupting the moment at a particularly heavy part of the plot. The environment won’t change suddenly without my hand on the handle.

I am in my own place. Now, instead of having to avoid when I go home, I only have to avoid in the rare public place. That’s easy enough; avoiding in your own private sanctuary is much more difficult and taxing.

I am in my own place. It’s over now. I hope he and I can reach some shred of reconciliation, but right now, it’s doubtful and for the short term unwanted. I’m out. It’s over. We’re done.

I am on my own.

For those of you who may not be in the know: I have changed jobs. You can read that again if you like. After five years, two months, and one week, my time of working at Morgan Printing has come to a whimpering end. My last day was friday of last week.

The question now is why; I couldn’t take that place anymore. When I started back in 2002, there was enough work to keep 7 people in my department very, very busy. Five years later, we’re scraping for work with a staff of 3. It was clear that the business was not growing. I would have very little work to do, but by day’s end I was exhausted from trying to keep busy and not look like I was slacking. When that is your full-time job, it’s time to go.

After a six-year hiatus from the tech field, I decided that it was my time to get back into it. I had several standing invitations for jobs, so I didn’t worry too much about looking. A friend pointed me towards a job listing and over one weekend I rebuilt my resume, wrote a cover letter, got some references, and applied to the job. By week’s end, I had talked to a contract agent, had an interview with the company, and gotten selected for the position. That friday, I submitted my two-week notice.

Yesterday, I started my new job as a technical contractor at Advanced Micro Devices (AMD). It’s a one year contract; AMD has the option to bring me on board permanently at the end of the contract (or any time if they really like me). I am doing what is called Power Analysis; due to recent EPA legislation, low power consumption in computers is a major selling point. It’s my job to assist the performance lab in determining how much power AMD’s processors consume under various loads. And that’s probably most of what I’m allowed to say under the non-disclosure agreement I signed.

It’s not a fun job, it’s not a glamorous job, it’s not a repetitious job. But once I learn what the hell I’m doing, once I get a sense for what is expected of me, once I see how it all fits together, then maybe I’ll be able to stretch out and start enjoying it all. Yesterday blew my damned mind; I was a deer in the headlights, a babe in the woods. So much info to take in. So much to figure out. By day’s end, I had a raging headache and a glassy-eyed stare that didn’t want to go away. I went home, took my mind off the day by cooking dinner and watching TV. I passed out before midnight.

This morning, I slept well but all that was destroyed by my first thought of my new job; the headache returned and has stayed with me most of the day. Couldn’t eat my breakfast. Didn’t have much for lunch. The stress of having to adapt and adjust for the first time in 5 years is a lot to bear. By the end of the day, I had spent some time under the wing of my coworkers; I was starting to figure things out, starting to talk, starting to see the light. I’ll quote something one of my managers said to me: “The first two weeks is like trying to take a sip of water from a roaring firehose.” I agree. I’ll get used to it some time soon; I better, because I left my old life behind. Now it’s drink or drown.

Hey y’all. Got a spiffy new journal engine. Nice, eh?

In this box you’ll find my latest journal entry. You can click the “journal” link in the menu on the left to view past entries, or you can click the “read more” link at the bottom of this box to continue reading more entries.

The code is good, the output a little cludgy, but all-in-all, I’m happy with what I’ve got here. If you’d like to offer some feedback, go to the message gateway and drop me a line. It’ll be fun. I promise.

Ok, kids. So much to do. So many miles to go. New Year’s Resolution 1 of 4 is done and done. And only 1/4 of the year is burned. Good, good.

Stay tuned for more.

Later!
-Shawn