regresa merkurio

Mercury was retrograde between July 7th and 31st. I know this because Leah wouldn’t stop reminding me of the fact and how it’s a portent of upcoming challenges. Mercury is the Greco-Roman god of communication, thieves, and commerce. When Mercury is retrograde, that’s when a planet appears to be moving backwards in its orbit, then adverse aspects of Mercury’s realms present themselves on Earth. Belief is powerful. Enough that if an unbeliever is surrounded by enough believers who have social cachet with the believer, the unbeliever will subconsciously begin to believe. And through belief one will change how they behave, for better or worse, creating a self-fulfilling prophecy.

Or maybe that’s how it works for me.

Right now my life is mundane. I work. I stay home, because I have an elderly and somewhat unreliable car in addition to a real-life social circle of one which is Leah. Since work earns me money, and I’ve been using it to practice my social skills because the people there are friendly, it’s important. Since early June I’ve been dispatching jobs to the floor, in addition to my invoicing duties. The usual dispatcher was assigned to assist the projects team with paperwork, and I’ve been dead in the water with only three hours of work a day while listening to podcasts, so I was tapped for the job to keep busy.

At the time I was freaking that in the absence of work, they were going to let me go out of necessity rather than due to my performance. Why pay someone to do nothing? That’s what happened at the lawn care place where I babysat an office seven hours a day, four days a week, fielding maybe 2-3 calls while playing games on Steam or fucking around on the internet. Despite a job of doing nothing, the crushing loneliness at the office was wearing on me.

A big boo-boo came up in late June, something that my manager and her assistant should’ve caught, but it was straightened out. No blood, no foul. In July, it seemed like every day there was some fuck-up happening on my part, whether with dispatching or some aspect of invoicing. Dispatching wasn’t new to me, but I hadn’t been dispatching anything for six months since the usual dispatcher stopped taking lunches for some reason. My anxiety and neuroticism was amping up, culminating with a job cancellation. I thought I had forwarded an email to a rep about a job being cancelled. I did note it on the job in the system, in addition to attaching the cancellation email, but it seems I didn’t send the email and a tech was dispatched and we’re winding up having to pay the tech for incurred which set off the vice president.

I can appreciate this since we lost a major client last September, someone who was with us for nearly a decade and kept increasing our workload, and then in June we ended up “firing” a major client when they were being pricks about a remediation job in Texas. It was a $30k job, and the tinpot Hitler running their maintenance department was demanding it be done on the cheap for a third of that cost. Rather than compromise quality, plus the fact this client was already being a dick being slow with paying us, the vice president literally told them, “Fuck you.”

So the vice president, who’s already on edge, shot an email to a semi-public email folder about me saying I need to take out my fucking earbuds (yes, that wording) and some shade. He never approached me in person about it. To my direct manager’s credit, she did her best to shield me from his wrath.

On top of all this, the usual dispatcher’s duties managing paperwork for a large project was drawing to a close which would leave me back where I started: Dead in the water with 3 hours of solid work if I was lucky. The voices in my head told me the writing was on the wall.

I do myself no favors.

On July 30th, a day before Mercury turned direct again, Zayas reached out to me to say he recommended me for a job as a title searcher with his employer. Completely out of the blue, or not? I still feel good that he thought of me.

An aside: As for Zayas’s story, he was offered a job with another company on 7/23. He presented the offer to his current employer, and they chose to retain him with a counter offer. During my, heretofore unmentioned interview, his manager said Zayas was being groomed to become a manager. Zayas’s void, and perhaps his current manager’s impending retirement, required another warm body to pick up the slack in the title searching business. All of this is conjecture on my part, but being an observer I tend to be spot-on.

So Zayas thought of me, recommended me to his manager saying how I’d be a great candidate, and I expressed interest at having better benefits and income. She called me and I proactively scheduled an interview on August 5th. I was already going to play hooky (etymology: Dutch word hoekje, meaning hide-and-seek) for a visit to my cardiologist, I have a heart murmur which has come back, so why not make the most of it?

Plus it was during Mercury going direct, ĉu ne?

Fast forward to Monday the 5th, I’m wearing my ten year old suit and sweating outside of the county courthouse talking with Zayas’s manager on a park bench. Heh, just had the riff from Aqualung play in my head when I reread that. The interview goes well, she shows me around the records department in the courthouse, and she made a provisional offer. I said I’ll accept when I get something official but I’m 99 44/100ths there. Late the next day, August 6th, I receive and accept the official offer, then upon receipt of my new employer’s acknowledgement I gave notice.

Going out on a high note, rather than being cancelled.

Saturday the 3rd, Leah took a leap of faith in inviting me to her best friend Kim’s birthday party. It’s a leap of faith, in her words, because she always feels uncomfortable with in social situations because she perceives me as being uncomfortable. I believe she feels uncomfortable because I’m not acting the way she would want me to act. Still, I accepted the challenge and went to the party. Mind you, Mercury is already going direct as of July 31, 2019 at 11:58 p.m..

After saying hi to Kim and her husband, then being introduced to various people, I noticed this one woman sitting on the deck. She has some meat on her bones, but that’s not a crime. A redhead, maybe a deep strawberry blonde, with big tits and freckles all over her generous cleavage. Yep, my eye kept being drawn to her but the voice in the back of my head kept saying, “Rotsa ruck.”

When I sat at the patio table, Leah next to me, she came over to set at my left and introduced herself as Megan. We wound up talking for an hour or two ’til she had to leave, and I was quite proud of myself. Proud of myself for showing restraint, even though I wasn’t outwardly restrained, but a woman I was attracted to started a conversation with me and didn’t seem to be annoyed or appear to be rolling her eyes that an autistic dope was not getting the hint. Plus she likes video games.

After Megan left, Leah asked if I hooked up with Megan on social media. “Nah, she says she’s avoiding social media and I’m cool with that.”

For the rest of the day, I kept kicking myself for not getting any of her details. I certainly wasn’t going to use my mad research skills to creep her. On Tuesday the 6th of August, I texted Kim and thanked her for inviting me to the party. As I was typing out “Would you pass along my digits to Megan? I should’ve shared but I didn’t” Kim said she thought Megan and I got on well at the party. I sent my text and Kim said she’d pass along my number.

Now that Mercury is going direct, I had some Good Things™ happen in my life. Not to mention Leah’s been kinder. I still think she’s trying to maintain distance from me.

I’m sure the basis of my belief, and this entire post, has a basis in a raft of logical fallacies. Not to mention taking agency away from myself, projecting it upon some nebulous phenomenon or entity, rather than acknowledging I have the power to change my life for the better and I deserve to thrive.

At least I’m aware of it. I’m doing what I can to affirm this on a regular basis, and I’m not spiralling when things don’t seem to be going my way. Perhaps all this therapy and growth is beginning to bear fruit.

Chris S.
Anomalist, esperantist, cyclist, typist, dodecaphile, ailurophile, and oneiromancer. Chris lives near the shore with his wife, cats, and the Jersey Devil in his backyard.

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