I think I was coated in gunk. Picture this: a penguin in an oil spill. It slowed me down. Dulled me. Changed my colors. I tried to think it was just a job. Some stress and a few sleepless nights. But it was really 40 hours of my week and then some. It’s one of the building blocks of calm. For as much as I claim it doesn’t, my career plays a role in how I define myself. I knew right away I wasn’t going to last there. By the end of week three I was already plotting a way out. I had applied for another job by month four. I started doubting myself. I started doubting my career choice. Second guessing everything I did. That was a recipe for a slow decline. I’d slump into Wendy’s office, open my eyes real big and ask her to take and peek and see if my soul was still in there. It was. But barely! I started looking for a job on December 2. I had one by the middle of January.
Thank GOD.
It’s been two weeks at the new place and I’m kinda in awe. My boss is supportive, encouraging and funny. My old boss - - eh -- not so much. This guy smiles and heaps on the praise! He’s asks me my opinions on things because he values my experience and perspective. He said that! Out loud! To me! WHO IS THIS GUY? My grandpa reincarnated? I keep expecting him to pull a quarter out from behind my ear! So the 9-5 is loads better and the gunk has been power washed away. I’m working my ass off and enjoying it. Best yet, my soul is firmly attached to my body and instead of plotting a way out, I’m plotting ways to move up.
Group hug anyone?
Went to the Seattle Central Library with Boo today. She had some research to do for an evil punk rock quilt project she’s up to her eyeballs in. I had high hopes of working on my kids’ book. Neither of us got much done. Instead we worked out an elaborate plan for a fanzine and are now in search of a leggy cover model wearing a Gucci dress to pose as if she were on the verge of cutting someone’s break lines. OH! It’s gonna be a good magazine!
Here is a picture of the Seattle Central Library:
Here is Boo’s first words upon entering it: Wow, this sure is fancy bum storage.
Boo also thinks Oprah is the only one who can bring about world peace.
A week has made a big difference in my mood. I think it was the fight I picked. Woke me up a bit. It was also a conversation I had with an unlikely confidant. And maybe time is kicking in. I'm typically pretty cheerful and it’s thankfully proven hard to hold down. I’m moving on and best part of that is I’ve given myself permission to do it. I hadn’t been. Thought I should feel like shit for a while. But I know that’s not needed and more importantly, it’s not respectful of The Events or lessons I learned to wallow in the discomfort. So I’m letting myself rebound and dang if I haven’t rebounded. I’m like a superball.
OH’Grady’s gonna have fun with that line.
Boing.
10 comments:
Good for you! Good to hear it! Yay you!
Chldren's book? This is very very good news. the world needs your words.
excellent as usual...
and boing. supreme.
I have homemade Kaluha brought home from a friend and it is very delicious. If you were near, I would make you a White Russian that would knock your fuzzy socks off.
And I'm sorry to ask this, but my curiousity is getting the better of me.... are plaid flannel shirts still in vogue up that way? I admit I'm a bit behind the times and I never know what the kids are wearing these days. :)
Brooke: Thank yoo! I hope so. It's about trees and what they would say to kids if they could talk... or maybe they can talk and this is what we'd hear if we could understand. Either way. It's HARD. I feel your novel writing pain. Writer's block is no rock n roll fun.
Jay are: Sank ya, ma'am.
Jay: I have never had a White Russian, unless you count that one guy in college. The flannel? Hmmm. I don't think it rools like it use to. Flip flops however, this city is infested with them. Thwap thwap.
"penguin in an oil spill" - what a great decriptive line. add me to the waiting list. no pressure.
there are actually people that can detach themselves from their work and not be defined by it, but i too, i'm not one of them.
i think that i would like to have a job where the boss is supportive.
isn't a group hug any hug including more than one person? and yes please.
A wank has made a big difference in my mood.
I have followed More than this for a few months now. The writer, imaginary or real, appears as a severely attractive person. The kind I would like to have in the vicinity. And that is a fact.
HH
NYABG: Who are those people and do they offer lessons?
Heather: Hug + 2 or more people = Group Hug! All you have to do is fly here cuz I can think of at least one person who would join us in a hug. HA HA! Yeah.
Daily: I know it's you and I'm concerned as to why you haven't made fun of my analogy where I compare myself to a superball. It's starting to worry me. Should I call the crisis line? Are you OH KAY?
Matthew: Thanks!
Anon: I'm real, baby. Allllll real. T hee.
Damn! You're good.
Love the post.
And I'm glad your soul is starting to come out and play again.
:-)
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