I need some stability. I need an anchor. I'm a workaholic with nowhere to go. Every rug I thought I had this year has been yanked out from under me. No more rugs. Normally I would turn to Billy and rant, "Can you fucking believe this?" and he would say, "Don't sweat the small stuff," and I wouldn't bother listening to him at that moment but then I would realize he had my back and things were going to be okay...somehow. They always were.
I am sorry if this sounds self-pitying but dammit, I feel so lost and alone. I just don't know what the next step is or should be. Of course I'm putting out feelers and, although the market right now is grim, there are some possibilities. But who the fuck knows? Thank God I still have my consultant work (which also feels tenuous considering what is going on in that company) to pay my overhead but I want a real fucking job! Is that too much to fucking ask after 20 years in the business?
Last night, before lights out, I was talking to Billy's picture and saying good-night (okay, that might sound crazy but it helps get me through). I said to him, "As long as I'm alive, you're alive. You're alive in my heart and always will be. You're a great guy and I will make sure no one ever forgets that." Immediately after I said that, there was a power surge, and the lights and TV went off then right back on. That has never happened before. The wind? Coincidence? Maybe. Or maybe just a nod of agreement.