I work for the government. I have worked for the government for almost 25 years. I would like to pretend that I do so out of a sense of service, a calling, a need to be an part of the great wondrous bureaucracy that makes our country great.
That would be a lie and I cannot get to Confession until next week, so I will not pretend.
Instead, I will tell the truth and shame the devil (my Southern Grandmother used to say that..she also told me I could say anything I want about someone as long as I follow it up with 'Bless their heart') and admit that I work for the government because it is supposed to be a secure job with a great pension.
And I am absolutely sure that somewhere within the government structure that radio hosts and TV comedians rail about there is a job that requires me to do my nails while earning 60 or 70 thousand a year.
I am positive that someone, somewhere, has a cushy government job where they never ever ever have to worry about getting fired.
Unfortunately, I work in California AND I work in Law Enforcement. So guess WHAT???? My job is damn hard, we are constantly in danger of lay-offs and I do not make even CLOSE to 60 thousand a year. In fact, I don't make enough money to own my own home. I get to own one, but I have to own it with someone else...lucky for me, I like them.
We have, right now, three clerks in one part of my unit doing the work of EIGHT. They are tired. They are cranky. They are exhausted.
We have, in the other part of the unit, three clerks doing the work of six or seven....guess how they feel?
I am so exhausted I am ready to spit. A luncheon planned for me this coming Friday is on hold because of this job and I am going to have to follow up two speaking engagements with frantic races back to the office because I cannot get the time off.
So......
What keeps me going?
Well, let me tell you. I am a daily Rosary and Divine Mercy Chaplet prayer. I refuse to give up that discipline. Sometimes I pay better attention to what I am praying than others but even when my mind wanders it wanders not far from Our Lord and Our Lady.
I am also a firm believer in tears. I think, if need be, a few well-shed boo-hoos (when alone, in the car) can take years off a woman's face. Besides, when my eyes get puffy the wrinkles hardly show at all.
The past weekend I went out to dinner with friends from the Fellowship. I was told in no uncertain terms that my stalker, LOM, has been given firm instructions to leave me alone or he is out on his ear. As one guy told me, "he can go to any fellowship in the area, he does not have to come here. He doesn't behave and he is slapped with an RO. We will not have you or ANYONE too afraid to come to meetings".
Cool beans.
The best part is that LOM is not being chased away. I was really firm about that when I finally broke down and asked for help. He needs the fellowship. If he keeps coming back there is a chance he will survive and become a man of grace and dignity. What he does NOT get to do is spew lies about ME while he is growing up.
The great news about being sober is one gets to grow up - the bad news? We have to do it in public.
I have done my share and now it is his turn in the barrel. That's OK. Some of us end up drunk, others end up stronger, wiser, kinder and ultimately happier. I pray it is that way for LOM. I want him well. I do not want anything bad to happen to him.
So, I leave work soon (having a lunch break in the morning is weird) and go home to sleep. I then get to go to Mass tonight before I leave for work. I am exhausted. I am ready to weep with frustration. I really want to start waving my arms and running in circles.
I think it is time for The Rosary.
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