Sad sack

The beach at Castellammare, Pacific Palisades

 Sad Sack was an old comic strip character, dating from the 1940s. He was a lowly private in the U.S. Army, a poor dumb schlub experiencing bad luck, humiliation, and indignities at the hands of an uncaring establishment - and due to his own ineptness.

It's funny, though, to think of how one's sadness or depression would be something you carried along with you, in a sack, or a bag - a piece of scuffed up, awkward, burdensome luggage you can never check.

I've been feeling like a Sad Sack lately. It's 45 days until my job ends, and I still haven't succeeded in finding a new one. Job hunting is always a challenge, and I know from experience how much you have to deal with rejection and uncertainty when you job hunt. But knowing that doesn't makes me feel any less like a failure, and that makes me sad. I regret imagined things I might have done to deserve this; I think of opportunities I failed to rise to. I feel like I am carrying my sack of Sad along with me in everything I do, these days.

Back on the Beach Cafe, at the Annenberg Community Beach House (Thanks, Fred!)

But you know what? Part of the reason I haven't succeeded in getting a job is because, deep inside, I don't think I really want a job. I think, secretly, I want a break. I want to stop working.

Then, of course, I feel guilty. I feel obligated to get another job, to contribute to our family. So, not only do I feel like a failure, I also feel like a selfish shit for wanting to stop working.

Enough for you yet? No? Well, then, how about this - when I think about Not Working, I think of all the wonderful, creative, exciting opportunities I am presented with when I have free time. But when I sit down and try to plan what to do after July1, I come up blank. This blog shows how much writer's block I have been experiencing. Talk about being a Sad Sack!

I've been working with a Life Counselor (she has helped me immensely with my resume) and we are working on trying to visualize goals, and set up pathways to meet them. I went to a session and found myself very frustrated, because I was supposed to bring back to the table a list of goals, and I had, literally, nothing. I could think of nothing.

It's been an odd time, these last few months. I have some idle time on my hands. I've been driving back and forth on Pacific Coast Highway, always looking at the water, thinking of how I should pull over my car and just sit there on the sand. But when I do, the sun is too hot, it's inhospitable, I'm thirsty, I can't relax. I never stay long, never linger - just get back in the car and go to work, or the grocery, or home.

Sculpture at the UCLA/Santa Monica Medical Center

This morning, after a routine mammogram I had on Monday, I got a callback from the UCLA Women's Imaging Center. They wanted to schedule another session - they needed to get another image of the left breast. At first, it sounded like they just didn't get a good shot, but then the caller said they also wanted an ultrasound, "to make sure." I scheduled an appointment for tomorrow afternoon.

About eight years ago, I also had to go back for another image after a routine mammogram. It turned out to be a little cyst in my left breast, which they aspirated with a needle. It proved to be totally benign, and subsequent mammograms turned up nothing. As I expect tomorrow's session will do.

This evening, though, I think I might have had a breakthrough on the goal-setting thing.

Tomorrow, I am buying a beach umbrella, a mat or blanket for the sand, and a little cooler. And maybe a split of champagne to go in it. And I will pull my car over and sit there on the beach. I promise myself.