Waiting For the Hammer To Fall

It's that time of the month again.  The time of the month where I experience my bouts of lunacy.  Lunacy not helped by meeting the most wonderful person.  A person off-limits, but a wonderful person nonetheless.


But this post isn't about being lonely.  Just setting the stage with that one.  That's the kind of state of mind I've found myself in.  Lunacy supreme, plus a long-lasting dysthymia that just will...not...go...away.  Needless to say, I am not a happy camper.


Thus we come to the reason for tonight's story.  About a month ago, I found out that the department I work for is being relocated.  Clear across the country.  Inconvenient to say the least, since I am lucky enough to live near family, friends, and home.  Then part two was revealed.  No one is going with the department.  It will be staffed on the other end.  Here's where you should envision a long slow, "okaaayyyyyy".


Now, hurray for me and my staff, they have decided that they like us and will absorb us into other departments.  Good news?  Seems like it on the surface.  Let's face it...these days it's nice to have a job.  Finding out you have one after a major change is somewhat comforting.


Life continues.


Until late last week.  The redistribution of jobs was announced.  I don't want to get too specific, but let's say I was the Captain of an NHL hockey team.  (I promise I am not).  Relatively speaking, I have gone from being the Captain of a major league team to equipment manager in the minor leagues.  Actually, strike that, I was probably the equivalent of an AHL captain.  (That's one step below the NHL.)


It's at this point you should know that I'm using sports analogies and I am not even a sports fan.  At all.  I think the NHL is in playoffs right now but couldn't say for sure.  Hockey just seemed like a good universal example.


So here I am, an equipment manager in some regional sports league.  I'm a pretty good "hockey player".  I'm not one of the best in the world, but I am good at my job.  My old job.  I am not a particularly good equipment manager.  It of course doesn't matter much as I am now in the minors where no one is really good.  We're a collection of people who plod about dreaming of being in the big leagues someday.  Some are on their way up to the majors, some have been there and are in the twilight of their careers.


I do not wish to be anyplace close to anything resembling twilight.


Probably one of the only bright spots in my life has been my work.  It's a field I love, and have loved for a long time.  I derive a great deal of satisfaction from my work.  I wouldn't have dreamed the day would come where I am considering leaving the business.  I also know that depression-addled decisions can be, to say the least, ill-advised.


Needless to say, I am close to devastated.  Mixed in with the aforementioned lunacy and low grade depression, I am not in great shape.  I now have to make a Large Life Choice(tm).


Do I change careers?  Trouble with that is that I work in a pretty specialized field and lack broadly transferable skills.   Do I stick around, and be the best damn equipment manager no one has ever heard of? Trouble there is that I won't be deriving the same job satisfaction from taping up sticks.  I am likely to be really frustrated, really quick.


Or do I check with the other coaches in the AHL and see if someone can used a slightly bruised but capable Team Captain.  Trouble there?  You bet.  Then I would have to move someplace where I have no family, no friends, and I would be all alone.  From a mental health perspective, that might not be the right option.


There's been tears, there's been anger, there's been shock, there's been a kicked-in-the-guts kind of a feeling.    I try to end each post with something hopeful, but I haven't got it in me tonight.  Check back.