I'm here at work, with the morning's rain blown off, and thick, gray and pink clouds pushed across the sky by a high wind. The day's paperwork is finished, and a Fresh Air interview with a Russian double agent is playing in the background. A client is out cooking fish and fries, which I helped him with though I had to look up the cook time in the Joy of Cooking. The others are watching the Superbowl, which I hear is going to fall to the Patriots, which would have done my maternal grandmother proud, her being a big fan of the Patriots.
These Sundays have gotten harder and harder to manage emotionally, as I haven't had a co-worker for quite some time. With the severity of clients we've had, you're always vigilant, while at the same time there's no other staff to help carry the responsibilities, and the level of depression has increased. It feels at time like I'm at the end of the earth, and my own depression buttons have been getting pushed. Someone will be coming in soon, which will help.
There are these moments, though, like when I went out to check my clothes (I do wash every Sunday) and no one was out on the patio. I stood there and watched the bamboo wave in the neighbor's yard, and the tone was so still and placid, hard to relate to the crowd inside. But when I can coordinate the two experiences, I'm at peace here.
