Angst
I've been angst ridden for a while now, and this last weekend's goings on have put me over the top.
Sunday morning Katie, Jerry and I went out fishing on his boat, a 17 foot flat hull Bass Tracker. Due to high constant winds, waves began to build and were continually depositing water in the boat. To make sure that this wasn't a problem, Jerry turned on the bilge pump to remove said water. Somehow a short was created which caused the live well intake pump to power on as well. That wouldn't have caused any problem normally, but the live well overflow somehow became blocked and so even after the bilge was turned off, the boat was filling with water. Jerry just managed to get the boat to shore before it was completely swamped.
The shore we manged to make it to was about 2.5 miles as the crow flies from the Marina from which we had launched and where were camped. Walking, the distance was closer to 3.25 miles up hills down hills through water filled inlets and brambles. Some friendly strangers that were drummed up and volunteered by the manager of the Resort / Marina went back out to the boat with Jerry and I shortly after we got back to camp, but it was decided that there was no way to get close enough to do anything with the quickly deteriorating weather.
Some of the volunteers felt that we might be able to get to it shore-side by a certain "road" and then using and ATV for the last quarter mile. It turned out that this was possible and so most of our belongings were retrieved from the boat in this fashion.
Driving back from the end of the very loosely defined road, the Bronco got a flat tire. Fortunately there is a spare, which we were able to switch to.
Monday Jerry and I, along with my uncle Tim, aunt Diane and cousin Anna were able to retrieve the boat from the lake shore and get it home. We have to completely dismantle the decking and flush the whole hull of the hundreds of pounds of silt and sand that were deposited in it. Also it was sunny on Monday. I did not put on sunscreen, and my upper arms are still glowing as though exposed to radioactive waste.
My job is indeed temporary, and while I may be able to get another month or two in, I really need to find a permanent position. Hopefully one with good benefits and a reasonable wage.
Katie's position at Penny's is not temporary, at least in their minds, as far as she's concerned, the first thing that's even remotely better comes along, she's gone.
My mother is entertaining the possibility of taking a position in Glendive some 45 miles away, as she is generally unhappy with the way the Corporation she currently works for is conducting business. Were that to happen, she and Jerry would then most likely move to Glendive, which would leave Katie and I alone in Sidney, no friends or family nearby. Then we'd have to rent the house we currently live in, and pay all of the utilities: Who knows if we could afford that.
It's a month, to the day, away from my birthday, and while I'm glad that I'm alive, I'm disgusted with life and the world in general. I despise this feeling of hopelessness and repulsion, and I just don't feel like there's anything to be done, save change my attitude.
Sunday morning Katie, Jerry and I went out fishing on his boat, a 17 foot flat hull Bass Tracker. Due to high constant winds, waves began to build and were continually depositing water in the boat. To make sure that this wasn't a problem, Jerry turned on the bilge pump to remove said water. Somehow a short was created which caused the live well intake pump to power on as well. That wouldn't have caused any problem normally, but the live well overflow somehow became blocked and so even after the bilge was turned off, the boat was filling with water. Jerry just managed to get the boat to shore before it was completely swamped.
The shore we manged to make it to was about 2.5 miles as the crow flies from the Marina from which we had launched and where were camped. Walking, the distance was closer to 3.25 miles up hills down hills through water filled inlets and brambles. Some friendly strangers that were drummed up and volunteered by the manager of the Resort / Marina went back out to the boat with Jerry and I shortly after we got back to camp, but it was decided that there was no way to get close enough to do anything with the quickly deteriorating weather.
Some of the volunteers felt that we might be able to get to it shore-side by a certain "road" and then using and ATV for the last quarter mile. It turned out that this was possible and so most of our belongings were retrieved from the boat in this fashion.
Driving back from the end of the very loosely defined road, the Bronco got a flat tire. Fortunately there is a spare, which we were able to switch to.
Monday Jerry and I, along with my uncle Tim, aunt Diane and cousin Anna were able to retrieve the boat from the lake shore and get it home. We have to completely dismantle the decking and flush the whole hull of the hundreds of pounds of silt and sand that were deposited in it. Also it was sunny on Monday. I did not put on sunscreen, and my upper arms are still glowing as though exposed to radioactive waste.
My job is indeed temporary, and while I may be able to get another month or two in, I really need to find a permanent position. Hopefully one with good benefits and a reasonable wage.
Katie's position at Penny's is not temporary, at least in their minds, as far as she's concerned, the first thing that's even remotely better comes along, she's gone.
My mother is entertaining the possibility of taking a position in Glendive some 45 miles away, as she is generally unhappy with the way the Corporation she currently works for is conducting business. Were that to happen, she and Jerry would then most likely move to Glendive, which would leave Katie and I alone in Sidney, no friends or family nearby. Then we'd have to rent the house we currently live in, and pay all of the utilities: Who knows if we could afford that.
It's a month, to the day, away from my birthday, and while I'm glad that I'm alive, I'm disgusted with life and the world in general. I despise this feeling of hopelessness and repulsion, and I just don't feel like there's anything to be done, save change my attitude.