Had issues today. Wild funk dance party at the house. I was doing things with salad dressing I shouldn’t. Tried to walk it out, tried to shake it off. Took the kids on two walks through the neighborhood. By nightfall my legs were swollen and tight like snakebite. I ran around my block. 0.2 miles. No sleep the night before – nerves.

Being laid-off is the worst experience if you have kids. When I was jobless and didn’t have kids, it was difficult to tell the difference between a street vacation and a traditional vacation. The sights were interesting, the sleeping arrangements usually weren’t quite as good as home, and food was a gamble at best. You budget the longer you go. but with kids, it’s just a nightmare of anxiety.

Yesterday early afternoon, I was holding the HR director’s business card from my interview last Monday on  the 16th. I was checking the number, holding her biz card when the phone in my other hand started ringing. It was her. She was calling ME. I blurted out I really wanted the job omg what a coincidence yes I could meet super as soon as shitfire possible yes yes! I was wound up like a tin toy. I started ticking off steps to rearrange my schedule, got my wife to flip her day upside down. I rolled to a barber and got haircuts for my older son and myself. Got a shirt and tie. Agonized over color and pattern.

Couldn’t sleep last night, again. I couldn’t believe how bunched up my muscles were. Everything hurt. It was bad. The eleven mile blast from the previous evening must have destroyed me a bit. I should have had a martini or something for a warm-up. I got stuck doing laundry into the night, paralyzed, distracted and ghosting domestics until I winked out.

I’ll get a good run tonight. Interview tomorrow, a four-hour bonanza, a friggin’ blanket party. If I get it, I sign up for Cacapon 12 hour Challenge in July, within the hour, get a new phone, new shoes, new face, new attitude. I can’t hit my deep flow until I get this job. My signals are all getting jammed. I took my first job when I was ten years old. I’m a busy bee.

Saturday the fam’s supposed to go to an amusement park 53.5 miles away…the exact distance of my longest run ever…which I could beat if I circle the parking lot once after  I get there. Do it in less than twelve hours…pumped after getting thy job…pushing, getting in a couple of more miles before the family truckster pulls up. NOPE! I’d be unable to chase the kids down in the park. So, I started scheming…if I could run back to Brownsville from Idlewild…arrive home at dawn Sunday morning…have a lumberjack breakfast and a bloody mary. Good god yes. I might get my Juneathon blow-out after all.

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Ready to join the rat race.