Misfit to Mister & Back Again…Those Who Can’t Do Teach Pt II

April 11, 2012

All right so here we are back again…and as good as any a place to start is when I left the land of Oz for the frozen north, October of 1994 I was determined to learn to be a good worker bee, I had two small kids (already had messed up and lost custody and relinquished visitation for my first son). I put my worker cap on, belittled and beat myself up (like a drill instructor would have[only I was doing it too myself at age 34] and was much crueler given I knew all my own weakness and foibles).

I barely pulled it off at first, but with steady application and try and try again mentality (okay so no punching other employees at work…check) After a few years I was doing pretty good, I had trained myself to be, at least fer however many hours a day you were willing to pay me, a good responsible person. (remember I was nearing forty at this point)

Now this is back some years, Ex 1 was still in the picture, but though I’d learned to behave at work, in my private life I was still pretty much one of Peter Pan’s Lost Boys…Is it any wonder then at some point she left with the kids (temporarily) back to Mom, back to Oz…

Well okay that was a wake up call, I still had work to do. I pulled up my boots, pulled up ’em up tight, then pulled up ’em up even tighter cinched ’em with drawstring and wrapped the whole thing in duct tape.  I worked harder, worked better, lived better (almost all my bad behaviors had been conquered[almost Cat’s n’ Kittens but we’re gettin to that*])…

I actually ended up in a professional job, a real job, had my own office with my name and title on my door (in order to accomplish this, to get this far, I had to, in essence, kill the other “me”, the weirdo artist, so that I could not only put away want and focus on need, but fit in with the “normies” [who incidentally almost all viewed themselves as weirdo artist types]) and continue to be employed. I was making real money, and working 50 hours or more a week…

I only pulled this high a level of employment though for a short time, and only because I had an excellent, understanding boss…I am a dysfunctional unit, but I have learned to explain that (hopefully in a way each new

Dizzying Heights of Success

employers understands). This boss worked very well with me and allowed me a wide latitude of odd behaviors* lol (singing out loud, foul language)

However like any unit worth his weight in dysfunctions, I eventually cracked*, the carefully constructed new unit I had become, though well polished in almost every visble aspect, still held the same original flaws.

Though I could see, know, and understand how to behave, I was not very good at actually doing. I was certainly never going to be able to reach and achieve the sort of level of normalcy you need to be successful in this land of winners…it was too late fer me(if I’d ever even stood a chance at all)…I’d started training myself far too late, things I was learning at thirty-five I should have been learning at thirteen…

In this last cracking, oh some five years ago now, I lost everything, for a second time..lol…second wife, second house…oh it is to laugh

But don’t get me wrong, this last time I stood at the edge of the cliff of responsibility and jumped off..After fourteen years or so of trying I realized either the above was true, a:I’d started too late, or b: in whatever way it was that I was dysFUNctional, it doomed or fated me to behaving irresponsibly (left turns)and doomed (or fated or whatever) me to be the unit I was and, either way, or both together didn’t matter, I had to accept it….

Now I don’t know any of you, my smart and oh so intelligent readers,  personally, but I’ll bet a good chunk of you think “that’s me”

But and while I’m not judging you, and it very well may be true…

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