I fucking made it through a week. Pardon my French, but this is a milestone. Day 1 seems like a year ago, when I was struggling for 12 hours not to throw up or cry. It seems safe to say that I have adapted. I don't like it one bit...but I have called on reserves of strength and cunning that I didn't know I possessed, simply to figure out a way to deal with it, to find a groove, to find a game, to survive it. And to make plans for the money I'm making. So, today's news....
First and foremost, I get a day off on Thursday. I so needed this psychological beacon. Just 3 more days and then a day of nothing. NOTHING.
So today I was taken away from Sensei, but instead of being thrown to the wolves I was sent back to the CO, which is really a place I prefer to be, and a place where I actually feel somewhat competent. Still, it's a lonely kind of assignment - just you and the walls and the frame and the wires. I found it a much longer day mentally, the hours dragged and I found myself missing the camaraderie of the field. Thankfully plenty of techs dropped by the CO needing this or that, and once they found out I was working the cable and pairs, my cell phone started ringing up a storm. At one point in the morning, it was Sensei calling in. "I miss you, kid," he said. "You were nice company."
This guy Pete had driven me over to the CO. I don't have a nickname for him yet, he's just Pete. Not that there's anything "just" about him; like all the other men in the garage, he is a prince of a guy, extremely knowledgeable and a good teacher. And also on my humor wavelength. As we drove over, he made the observation that, "You've been paired up with a lot of different people this week, huh?" And I replied, "Yeah, I'm the garage slut." He nearly drove off the road. "I'm sorry," I said. "I just have no filter left at all." He assured me we were going to get along fine.
Imagine my surprise when later in the morning, Sensei came into the CO and who is his new grasshopper but the Rabbi!! The Rabbi has been transformed. Up until now, even in the trench warfare he'd retained an aura of corporate crispness: shaved, t-shirt tucked in, an office persona. But today, he came down the frame with shirt untucked, a couple days of beard growth, handset and tools at the ready, four-letter words flying, and with a very different kind of stride. "Damn, Mike," I said. "You're looking like a tech!" He grinned and said, "You know, I said the same thing about you to someone this morning!"
Speaking of rabbis, I helped get one back in service late this evening. I hope he keeps us in his prayers because right now I think Divine Intervention is the only thing that can push this ordeal forward to a close. As Pete and I drove back to the garage at the end of the day, we passed by a church with people outside all heading in for Mass. Being even more punchy and unfiltered at the end of the day, I rolled down the window and yelled "Pray for us!!" as we drove by.
Thank you to all my family and friends who continually email and text me throughout the day. It fills up the tank like nothing else. A few times today I'd get a text from an unknown number, with rousing cheers of "You go girl, thinking about you, hang tough, love ya!!" And I'd reply, "Thank you! Who is this?!" Loved it.
I cannot fully express how much I love my husband. I'm humbled by how much I miss him during the day, and so full of awe at how he has stepped up to the plate and supported me during all of this. The kids have gone to my parents for a couple days, so tonight it was nice to be able to sit down to dinner (made by his mother, thank you thank you thank you) and just talk together, uninterrupted. I am so weary that I can only fall back on the lyrics to that god-awful song, so please forgive me if I say he is indeed the wind beneath my wings.
Three more days. I can do this. I can.
Yes we can.