I had a good day at work, and came home and swept and vacuumed. Then I got on the laptop, wrestled Anthem's website to the ground, and forced it to accept my premium payment. I'll be so glad to get on group insurance in a month.
There's so much to learn for this new job, and learning it is a joy. Last night I realized something about myself that you've probably known all along: I delight in precision. It's obvious now that I think about it, but I've never put it in those terms before. I've said for years that I enjoy nothing more than taking a mass of unorganized something - things, facts, ideas, whatever - creating an organizing system, and bringing order to it. I know I'm anal. But deeper than that is a delight in precision. Maybe that's the root characteristic of the rest.
And so I think I may have found something that fits me even better than critical care nursing did, better even than Open Heart Recovery, which is the anal retentive capitol of the hospital. The things I'm learning to do are making me happy. There's a deep satisfaction to it.
None of this surprises you, I'm sure. You've always known me better than I know myself. The amazing thing is that you love me anyway. These texts could have been yours in college - that is, if there had been cell phones when we were in college, back in the last millennium. And from you, it wouldn't have been an autocorrect error. You would have said just that. You could never have dated a woman with unorganized shelves. Both of us lived in immaculate dorm rooms. And it's not just that I don't like mess, though that is part of it. I delight in precision. It seems that I've learned something important about myself.
Well, that's it for tonight. It's just some new insight on my part. I'd welcome your thoughts and comments, as always. Text or call me any time - I still sleep with the phone by the bed, like I started doing when you were in the hospital, still waiting to hear from you.
Love you, adore you, miss seeing your name on my phone,