Vince
Three weeks and a day after my release from incarceration I got a job. I’ve filled out applications and applied online to a number of establishments and businesses, but today I was hired by the first place at which I inquired of employment. Actually, I had stopped in there a couple times and called a few more, and was about to give up completely when I received a message from my friend that works there saying somebody had just quit. Then he called me and said I could start tomorrow, which I couldn’t do, but I will on Thursday. Yay! Thank you Mr. D. You know who you are.
Last night my agents paid me a visit around 11pm in which they were finally giving me a little bit of a hard time about not yet finding employment. They said they weren’t really worried yet, but if I didn’t have some form of employment within two weeks, we would be having a conversation. Then they asked if I had tried a temp agency, to which I said I thought we weren’t allowed to do that, which is what I remember from orientation, or something, I don’t know. I have on more than one occasion called into the voicemail system with a relevant question and received no response. Again, I say, this is the common frustration among us newly released. It’s all very confusing and sometimes I feel as if things I hear are contradictory. That’s the way it was in boot camp but I think it was more to see if they could get a reaction out of us there. Out here it wouldn’t really make sense to tell us anything that wouldn’t put us on the right track, so I think maybe I’m imagining a few things because they don’t make sense. Does that make sense? I could also be losing my mind. I do think I should write things down more often.
I had a really bad dream again last night in which I hooked back up with my old drug dealer (who, in real life, is in a Federal prison in California for 15 years) and was holed up in a hotel room with a huge bag of meth. I don’t know what kind of hotel it was but it was odd. I remember a knock at the door, and when I opened it up there were a bunch of high school kids who looked at me as if they were very disappointed in me and then left. When I turned around I saw the huge bag of meth just sitting on the nightstand under a brightly lit lamp, but I didn’t seem to care. I noticed that in general, I don’t ever have conversations in dreams. Or, at the very least I don’t think I ever say anything. Well, that was the end of the dream, and in real life it was morning time, and I got up. I can’t wait for my meeting tonight.
Tomorrow I will be spending the day doing some manual labor and general maintenance for my dear aunt Connie. That I have scheduled from 9AM until 7PM and with a morning run and an evening meeting I wont hardly be home at all, which is something I’m looking forward to. Connie is a survivor of cancer and a hero to me since childhood. I have a lot of making up to do in our relationship since I took a vacation for so many years. She was one of those people that tried to help me out when she found out I had relapsed oh so many years ago. So, she didn’t make the friends list. I will work hard tomorrow digging out a tree stump, trimming some trees, and what-not. But what I really want is the opportunity to talk with her one-on-one, an opportunity I have not had as of yet. An opportunity for me to apologize, make amends, and move on. And if you’re reading this, Connie, pretend you haven’t when I see you please. 🙂
Coming up on the blog: First day on the job! Please share this blog with your friends. The goal as always is to help the still suffering addict, and make me a famous writer in the process!