Jamaica Funk

“Do you realize that you’re yelling at the top of your voice?” My brother asked me calmly yesterday as we were walking to the restaurant to go have dinner and I was going over, pace by pace, the horrors of work since Friday morning. And when he said it, I stopped and conscientiously started speaking softly… but noticed that my brow was in a furrow since Friday. No wonder I had a headache. What could be stressing me like this? The work? No… because I’m able. The pressure? I’ve dealt with worse.

I’m so isolated back there. I miss my colleagues / companions. I miss Rigo’s unmitigated wit and Mensa charm. I miss Korny’s girl talk and camaraderie we share on so many levels. I miss Bear’s ability to make me downright LAUGH. We jimmied his desk open to day and I found what looked to be a case for a Maglite… and inside was a cherished station pen. His cherished station pen that people seemed to want to always steal. And on the inside cover of the box it read “This is BEAR’s pen. This is my home. If you take me out of my home, Bear will come and make you choke on your lunch. Leave me here. Okay. Good bye.” And I started to laugh. Just to hear my voice echo in the emptiness of the room. That’s why my brow has been furrowed and I feel frazzled. All the craziness going on in my head on a regular basis is now all mine to cherish … in addition to the millions of demands that I”m fielding. I feel like I’m flailing about and hoping to tread water.

Today was better. I got into the office at 7:00 AM which allowed me to get a jump on the craziness. I did end up being consumed because I tried to get to my Gyn AKA Mullet-Man because of my unusual hemorrhaging (again). So I left at 3. Only to get stuck in traffic. And I knew that I was his last appt. Far be it from me to keep him there minutes after he’s scheduled to leave. Plus I didn’t want to think that he’s be rushing. I want him to take his time. I think this is only the 3rd time I’ve mentioned this irregular spotting and he said “We’ll see how it goes.” Max said “We need you a new GYN, STAT.” I agree. But he has all my records since I was a Vanguarde… let’s see what he says first. He’ll probably put me on that horrible emotion-debilitating pill again. I so don’t want that. No more pills.

Speaking of Vanguarde, allegedly it’s said that today at 4:00PM, everyone was called into the main conference room *getting the visual now…. glass on 3 sides… big wooden table in the middle… folks standing all around* and were told that effective immediately, the doors to VG were closed and that people had to get their stuff out of the offices POST HASTE. WW on BLS allegedly said that it was due to a misappropriation of funds. Which I believe if it’s true. Funny that I thought to myself 3 years ago… I was exiting a sinking ship, just in time. I guess it must have broke in half and lingered, suspended… before it was dragged under by the already sunken part: their finances. It’s the end of an era. Half of me is so sad, because I had hope for it. The other half of me says… Karma is a bitch.

I named today’s entry like that because, we’re doing a promotion on one of the stations called Funkin’ For Jamaica. And I couldn’t figure out why. But they kept playing Tom Browne’s song… with the words I NEVER understood. But… now I know that she’s saying:

I had no idea what I thought she was saying… “Funken fo’ Zemanaaaa… To make a funk… that’s wha eee eees”

*sigh* I accept enlightenment however it comes to me

*