Friday, June 17, 2005

Friday

I slept like shit last night. I woke up what seems like every 20 minutes or so and I may or may not be sure I know the reason why. When the alarm went off this morning, the last thing I wanted was rehab but I did it. To be honest, the ice and the stretching and the shower all helped a great deal, but so did the overwhelming sense of obligation, to myself and to my team.

I was not feeling well this morning. I was not myself. Even after I fired up the F1 to take a short drive to relax before work, something was still not right. The cd player in my car has been broken for several weeks now and I was stuck with pre-drive time bullshit until I was so annoyed, I punched the dash and the radio fell dead.

I noticed the tension in my jaw and shoulders and neck and mentally tried to relax. I wanted to swim, no I wanted to float on my back in a pool and look into an azure sea of whispy clouds and think about nothing. I wanted to concentrate on my own breathing and my pulse and the rhythm of my heart. I wanted to fade away into obscurity.

However, my team was waiting for me. I pulled in, grimmaced as the first few steps were a challenge and then walked on to the unit as best as I could. I didn't want the pity and the sympathy and all the rest of it. I thanked staff for their well-wishes and prayers, and then took my place behind the desk and read reports from the previous night. Much like my night, J Unit was quiet but unsettled. My fellow agents walked on egg-shells around me all day and I think that annoyed me more than anything.

It was as if I was either a child or someone sold incapable of anything they were afraid to tell me so. My hands grew tired from typing and I longed to go on rounds between J & H. No such luck. Of course as I was filling out final reports of the day, the Legion of Doom came over from headquearters, "just to check up on things..." Who the fuck were they kidding, they were trying to see what they could find wrong while I was all busted up and yet, still in charge.

The unit was in perfect condition and it annoyed them. I am good to my people and in return, they are good to me. I'm able to delegate responsibility like few others I work with and the Legion of Doom was trying deperately to find something wrong. When LR came at me with, "there's no tag on that fire extinguisher, I told her, "I'll get right on that" and then continued with the shift reports.

2nd Watch was late and I was anxious to hand over the keys to the gun cage and get the fuck out of dodge, but like Navy Seals, "no one gets left behind" and so my team waited for Count Stroke-ula to show up so we could all walk (I hobbled) out together. There are worse things.

Now, it's the weekend for the rest of the world, Monday night for me, and I'm more fucking confused than ever about the way the world works and other such enigmas.

But that's a story possibly for another time, maybe not.

Cheers,
JJ

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