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pennfanaSo, I've done it. I've applied for a job at a call centre, and I'm starting the first part of their hiring process tomorrow (testing of some sort, apparently). I didn't want to have to do this, but since I haven't been hired for anything else I've applied for in the past couple of years, and since recent developments make it absolutely necessary for me to have a job of some sort, no matter how awful, I feel like I've run out of alternatives to Customer Service Hell. I'm trying to keep optimistic about it—I've applied for part-time work there at the moment, so I might have some sort of abstract chance at being able to keep doing the things that have kept me from suffering a full-on attack of severe depression in the past couple of years—but I've heard absolutely nothing good about those places. And if it ever comes to the point where I have to choose between that job and the things that make my life worth living, I have no idea what I'll choose. I've had a couple of panic attacks in relation to the idea, actually; I know that I'm not suited to it and I despise the thought of having to give up my interests and activities in favour of having to sit and take abuse from idiots people who are perfectly willing to blame me for problems that they've brought on themselves.
Which is not to say that my life has totally gone to the dogs. My family life is still good, my social life is actually starting to come back from the dead, I'm still with my choir and still teaching my bagpipe student, and I'm still tinkering with the occasional bit of creative writing, both original work and fan fiction. Furthermore—and this still surprises me—I've recently joined the choir at the local Anglican cathedral. Their choirmaster also directs the community choir I've been a member of for eleven (!) years, and for the last couple of years I've been playing my bagpipes for their Remembrance Day services. This year, he asked me if I'd be interested in joining the choir there, and I said I'd think about it; after quite a bit of soul searching (if it had been only a musical decision, I'd have said yes without a second thought, but this choir is part of people's spiritual lives, and it's part of a belief system that I don't entirely share), I said that I'd give it a try.
Not that I'm converting—I don't feel the need, and I have it on good authority that it's not necessary—but I find that I'm enjoying it so far. And while I'm still finding it a bit unbelievable that I, of all people, am involved in a church choir of any kind, I'm welcoming it as an interesting addition to my spiritual life, which I must admit was already more than a little odd by anyone's standards. Eventually, I may find that I can't reconcile my personal beliefs with what I'm now part of every Sunday, but for now I'm OK with it, and that's what matters. If nothing else, I'm singing with some very nice people, and my ability to sight-read music is developing at a surprisingly fast pace out of sheer necessity.
So there are definitely some bright spots in my life as it is now. I'm afraid of losing them because it took so long for me to find many of them in the first place, but they're there now. I know I should just shut up and be grateful that I have anything to smile about at all when so many people are so much worse off than I am, but I do sometimes find it difficult to be happy when I'm very conscious that it could easily be yanked out from under me like a greased banana peel on a polished marble floor, especially in these uncertain times.
Which is not to say that my life has totally gone to the dogs. My family life is still good, my social life is actually starting to come back from the dead, I'm still with my choir and still teaching my bagpipe student, and I'm still tinkering with the occasional bit of creative writing, both original work and fan fiction. Furthermore—and this still surprises me—I've recently joined the choir at the local Anglican cathedral. Their choirmaster also directs the community choir I've been a member of for eleven (!) years, and for the last couple of years I've been playing my bagpipes for their Remembrance Day services. This year, he asked me if I'd be interested in joining the choir there, and I said I'd think about it; after quite a bit of soul searching (if it had been only a musical decision, I'd have said yes without a second thought, but this choir is part of people's spiritual lives, and it's part of a belief system that I don't entirely share), I said that I'd give it a try.
Not that I'm converting—I don't feel the need, and I have it on good authority that it's not necessary—but I find that I'm enjoying it so far. And while I'm still finding it a bit unbelievable that I, of all people, am involved in a church choir of any kind, I'm welcoming it as an interesting addition to my spiritual life, which I must admit was already more than a little odd by anyone's standards. Eventually, I may find that I can't reconcile my personal beliefs with what I'm now part of every Sunday, but for now I'm OK with it, and that's what matters. If nothing else, I'm singing with some very nice people, and my ability to sight-read music is developing at a surprisingly fast pace out of sheer necessity.
So there are definitely some bright spots in my life as it is now. I'm afraid of losing them because it took so long for me to find many of them in the first place, but they're there now. I know I should just shut up and be grateful that I have anything to smile about at all when so many people are so much worse off than I am, but I do sometimes find it difficult to be happy when I'm very conscious that it could easily be yanked out from under me like a greased banana peel on a polished marble floor, especially in these uncertain times.
