Magical Thinking

     So, as I have been wallowing in my anxiety, I have finally been able to come up with one coherent thought; I really figured I would have things better worked out by now. What sort of things, you might ask. If I wasn't feeling so burned out I might be able to give a clear answer.
     Hmm, what things did I hope for way back when. Well, for one thing, I really thought I would feel like a grown up by now, a full time, full fledged adult. Oh, sure, I have made some grown up, hard choices every now and then, even been mature a time or two, but I still feel like a fraud at the end of the day.
     For instance, what should I do for my resume? The current job may or may not last much longer, no one really knows. However, it just so happens that my place of employment has made national news and it is one of those hot button topics that people get all enraged about. When people I meet for the first time find out where I work, they feel the need to share their opinion about what they think of the company and those of us that work there. And I seriously need to stop reading all the messages on the social media chat-boards or I will just slip right over the edge into oblivion.
     But back to the resume? What do I do? Do I list where I have been working for the last year and some odd months? Will people want to call me for an interview just to hear about my experience there? If they have a negative opinion about the company I currently work for, will they just disregard my application?
     I have given this a lot of thought. I could feasibly say I took a year off to pursue writing. I have been writing a lot the past several years and this year I actually did have a storybook published. Maybe I just shouldn't even list my current employer on my resume. Several of my friends think this sounds like a reasonable solution.
     I may eventually agree with my friends. Right now it just feels like too much of a  defeat if I leave it off my resume. I already feel like all I really did this past year was get another year older. As much as I want to get mired in that thought, another one whispers through my mind, "You did get another year older." And then I am grateful as I think of where I was headed this time last year, preparing to have invasive surgery.
     And then I look at the clock and see the time. Time shifts and blends when I write. Suddenly it is the middle of the night and if you would have asked me, I would have said it couldn't be much past ten pm. I'm reminded of many of the nights of my childhood and young adulthood. Often I would turn on my reading lamp and read through the night, certain that if I could just stay awake, it would stay today and I would never have to deal with tomorrow's problems.

     I can deal with right now, this minute, these words. If I just keep writing I can hold off tomorrows fears and worries, the anxieties of next week, next month, next year. If I can just keep writing, everything will be okay. None of this tomorrow is another day crap for me, all I want is an endless today.