‘Cha Cha Cha Cha…’

‘…CHAYN JEZZ’, or some thing like that. Either way, those are some cool ass eyeballs. Anyhoo…
There’s been a lot of changes at PatchworkPlace this year. The list could even be loosely construed to include socks and pants… although that could just be the hallucinogenic effect of NOT changing your socks and pants. [/me adds to the list of ‘Experiments for when I’m Old (& weird and smell vaguely of wee)‘]
Regardless, these have turned out to be changes for the best. I knew they would be before they were effected, really, but that doesn’t stop me from becoming a fluffy ball of grumpy patchwork mumbling and sulking for the duration waiting for ‘the best’ to pull it’s finger out and arrive something like on time.

I changed jobs over summer. In my last job I was a one-man four-man team. My job title was a bastardisation of all 4, and my wage a fraction of one. I carried the weight of the world on my shoulders and made everyone aware of the fact. But I liked it. I could go as far as to say that in some sick way I actually loved it even. The problem is that I appear to be the possessor of testes. This means that I chuck myself head first into work. Drown my self in it. Dissolving myself in it would be a more accurate description. This put incredible strain on partner, Boy, and just life in general. Finally [previous employer] made a (monumentously fucking stupid) decision that pushed me over the edge, and fortunately the proverbial gods saw fit to plonk a better offer in my lap.
NewJob sees me doing the work of one, with enough time to do the work of two. I get time to think… To find inspiration… To CREATE. Ok, so the pay isn’t particularly an improvement, but it’s not always about the money. Initially I was bored and frustrated. I’d MADE the change, and I damn well wanted that nice feeling when everything turned out for the best. Where the hell was it?
Three months down the line, I noticed it. If I’d have been paying attention, I’d have noticed it a week down the line, but I have those testical-thingies so I frequently don’t notice things until they walk up and slug me round the head.
As a result, LIFE IS FECKIN’ ACE! Nothing physical has changed really. Nothing that you could put a finger on particularly… But in me it’s a whole new world. I feel calm, relaxed, happy. I’ve picked up instruments and played them for no other reason than I wanted to. I’ve been places, seen and met marvellously gorgeously superb people (and gotten many of them to scribble on the back of my iPad).
Me and partner have had a…  a… A LIFE. We even had a conversation about marriage… STOP SNIGGERING AT THE BACK THERE… AND IF I EVEN HERE AN ‘awwwww’ I’M GOING TO PEE ON YOUR PILLOWS.
That’s step 1 well on it’s way then. Now to face up to the fact that I must become a better father to Boy. I’ve missed so much over the years, being separated from his mother with whom he resides for 71.5% of the year. He’s 8 years old and I’ve never been to one of his school plays. Guess what’s on Friday at 10am?!

About apatchworkboy

Aspergers dad to a severely autistic non-verbal boy

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