The first in the charming series of craptastic, guilt-riddled, bullshit events the average person refers to as the winter holidays is over. You'll note that I took 2 days off of work in part to recuperate from the typical level of crap that was involved in the "celebration". I'm spent. Now I get to look forward to a birthday with a black cloud, Christmas of overindulgence, and New Years of uncertain plans. Yay.
As I mentioned, my last 2 days were work-free for recuperation purposes. There is some odd irony in that, by the end of today, I was feeling keyed up and anxious. Days off leave me feeling a little off-kilter, maybe because they are pretty rare for me, and days off alone, like the last 2 were, are a once or twice a year event.
I am obviously a thinking, an introspective person who's constantly challenging herself to look at things from different angles, which results in almost immediate overthinking of situations.
A day off is no different.
Yesterday was fine. I got up and got G off to school, came home and took my time - leisurely - getting myself ready for my day. I went out for some retail therapy and spent the rest of the afternoon doing a whole boatload of absolutely nothing except eating far too much of G's Halloween candy.
Side note - retail therapy is a double-edged sword for me. Now that I am older (not wiser) and I have an adult woman's body, I've found a few stores where the clothing really works for me. Of course, these stores aren't cheap, but then again, their clothes don't shrink after the first wash. I enjoy going to them - I especially enjoyed visiting the one I went to on Monday since, in celebration of Cyber Monday, they had 40% off everything in store (how lovely). This store happens to have sizes that run a bit big, which means my normally size 6 self is a size 4 in some of their styles. How enjoyable - I haven't been a 4 since high school. I really thoroughly basked in the glow of trying on pants that fit not only my ass but also my waist (as a size 6 with a big ass, I tend to get about 3 inches of "gap" when I try on pants -fun fun even with a low-rider thong).
BUT - I also hate to spend money. I hate it. It gives me serious anxiety. So there I was, weilding my 40% off coupon, doing the math as to the discounted price in my head, trying to determine whether or not I really *should* spend $27 on a sweater.
I hate that. UGH.
But I digress - that minor stress, which I overcame by splitting the difference and buying a few good pieces, but not the whole load of crap I brought into the dressing room on my 2 trips (LOL), isn't the point.
The point is today. Today, I had nothing planned. Due to my feeling miserly after yesterday's shopping, I wasn't setting foot inside a store, and the purchases I made online were for Gregg for Christmas (and pre-planned).
Ah...so my time was 100% mine, big ass firmly planted in MY spot on MY couch.
Except my head...oh here it goes.
I got thinking about how weird it was to be at home during the day on a workday. There is something oddly unsettling about it. I mean, I know I'm employed but, let's face it, the economy sucks it. It's scary. I feel like I'm forever holding my breath. I've been through layoffs - at 5 and then 7 months pregnant noless - and I don't want to go down that road again. I am watching friends go through that hell now.
So I started thinking about it, and worrying about it, and wondering what the hell I'd do. It scared me and, frankly, I ruined my last 3 free hours thinking about it.
Why I do this to myself I'll never know but let me say this - being a thinker - it definitely has its drawbacks.
So now I have Tuesday night dread - but at least I'm going back to a job tomorrow. I have to remember that that makes me blessed. In light of some things that went on this holiday, some news we got - I need that to be my mantra. I am blessed.
Tuesday, November 30, 2010
Monday, November 22, 2010
and another happy holiday season begins
My patience with the holiday bullshit is wearing very very thin.
I'm old. I'm almost 37 no thanks to a looming holiday that is, cursedly, smack dab in the middle of said holiday bullshit. I want to spend my holiday not working, with my immediately family, and with people I like. I don't want to deal with guilt, or crap, or fair, or any other such nonsense.
Period.
It never fucking happens.
I vowed that this year would be different. This year it would work itself out with some help and gentle pushing from me.
I was wrong.
Fan-fucking-tabulous. ARGH.
I'm old. I'm almost 37 no thanks to a looming holiday that is, cursedly, smack dab in the middle of said holiday bullshit. I want to spend my holiday not working, with my immediately family, and with people I like. I don't want to deal with guilt, or crap, or fair, or any other such nonsense.
Period.
It never fucking happens.
I vowed that this year would be different. This year it would work itself out with some help and gentle pushing from me.
I was wrong.
Fan-fucking-tabulous. ARGH.
Thursday, November 18, 2010
a little mostly proud Mom moment
Parent/teacher conference time is always an interesting time in our household. My son is an amazing kid. (Ah...don't I sound like a typical Mom!) He's very academically inclined and super competitive, so doing well in school comes pretty naturally for him and his smart peers keep him pushing himself to do well. He's actually verbally gifted, reading (several/many) grade levels ahead of where he should be. But his brains make him a bit challenging. He thinks he's an adult and, as such, he has a tendency to speak to some adults as if they were his peers - i.e. in a condescending, smart alec kind of a way.
Needless to say, we often have our first conversation with his teacher each year not at the P/T conference in November, but by the second week of October. This year was no exception. HOWEVER, this year, it was handled differently. Being a 3rd grader now, his time of free passes and stupid behavioral charts is over. Thank goodness. We promptly put an action plan in place, one that would be structured and organized and would have HIM, not a chart, accountable for his behavior, whether it be disruptive or silly or rude. After we laid out the plan, we talked to him about it, as did his counselor at the school.
It's been about a month and, with 2 exceptions, he's come home and told us he had good days. He let us know the 2 issues he had, one of which was very minor - and he was so proud of his good days - as were we. But, of course, he's 8 - so we took this all with a grain of salt.
So today, when we went in to talk to his teacher and counselor, we were pleased to say that his reports were generally pretty accurate. Both his counselor and teacher see a marked improvement. They both indicated that he is very VERY motivated to improve his behavior, and recognizes that that is where he has room to put forth good effort and grow.
Throw in the straight As PLUS and A+ and I am one proud Mom.
That whole conversation was one of those that reminded me that, as much as I think of G as my "baby", so to speak, he's no baby. He is his own person, with his own motivations and his own personality and his own strengths and weaknesses. I can help him to work through his challenges but I can't force him to do a damn thing. He needs to want it and work at it. And I need to encourage it and model the same behavior.
It also reminded me that how I act, what I do, and who I am - he's always watching and learning from me.
This parenting thing - it sure as hell isn't easy. At least not to me it isn't. But moments like these certainly make it rewarding and underscore why it truly is worth it, no matter how hard it can be.
Needless to say, we often have our first conversation with his teacher each year not at the P/T conference in November, but by the second week of October. This year was no exception. HOWEVER, this year, it was handled differently. Being a 3rd grader now, his time of free passes and stupid behavioral charts is over. Thank goodness. We promptly put an action plan in place, one that would be structured and organized and would have HIM, not a chart, accountable for his behavior, whether it be disruptive or silly or rude. After we laid out the plan, we talked to him about it, as did his counselor at the school.
It's been about a month and, with 2 exceptions, he's come home and told us he had good days. He let us know the 2 issues he had, one of which was very minor - and he was so proud of his good days - as were we. But, of course, he's 8 - so we took this all with a grain of salt.
So today, when we went in to talk to his teacher and counselor, we were pleased to say that his reports were generally pretty accurate. Both his counselor and teacher see a marked improvement. They both indicated that he is very VERY motivated to improve his behavior, and recognizes that that is where he has room to put forth good effort and grow.
Throw in the straight As PLUS and A+ and I am one proud Mom.
That whole conversation was one of those that reminded me that, as much as I think of G as my "baby", so to speak, he's no baby. He is his own person, with his own motivations and his own personality and his own strengths and weaknesses. I can help him to work through his challenges but I can't force him to do a damn thing. He needs to want it and work at it. And I need to encourage it and model the same behavior.
It also reminded me that how I act, what I do, and who I am - he's always watching and learning from me.
This parenting thing - it sure as hell isn't easy. At least not to me it isn't. But moments like these certainly make it rewarding and underscore why it truly is worth it, no matter how hard it can be.
Friday, November 12, 2010
a writer inside me?
I've had two different people recently - i.e. this week - comment to me about my writing abilities, or at the very least, my story telling abilities.
On Monday night, I saw my shrink for my bi-weekly visit. I had a lot to say. It's been a hell of a time lately, what with my sister's wedding and the various dramas and chaos that surrounded that, plus a whole of other bullshit inflicted upon me in part due to my own personal stupidity. I was full-on verbal ramblings for the first 45 minutes of my session - we had a brief actual conversation for the last 5 so, while cathartic, the session was not particularly productive in terms of me getting any sort of direction on how to fumble through this thing that my life has somehow become.
On my way out, he said to me "A - you should write a blog. You need to tell these stories. Not only will it allow you to get them out, but the way you tell them is funny. I know the actual crap you have to deal with isn't funny on the surface, but the way you tell me about it is hysterical. You'd have thousands of readers."
I was totally flattered and told him I DO have a blog but, alas, at this time, some of those stories have to remain in my (private, locked down) journaal. Wrong audience here.
Of course, I am tempted to create an anonymous blog, just to test his theory!!!
In a totally unrelated situation, I had written a sort of "story" for a friend at work today. It's really just my way of releasing stress about a co-worker who drives us crazy. I try to make these stories mysterious and vague enough that, if anyone else were to see it, they'd have to at least think hard to figure out who I was talking about, but also funny or tongue-in-cheek.
I was on a roll this afternoon. I was tired (AM tired) and overworked and at my wit's end, so there I went. Totally unsolicited, after "publishing" a teaser on my latest story (I write them slowly, over a period of days, and provide my readers with "installments"), my one reader told me I was a great writer. WHAT?
Wait - WHAT?
I'm a math nerd.
I'm a former programmer.
I do things that are logical well - that's why I quilt and knit - math.
Writing is purely creative. And this compliment came from one of the most creative people I know. It was genuine.
And I'm still fucking floored by it. I wonder - but it's inspired me (OBVIOUSLY) to get back to my blogging more regularly. Now let's see - like my trip to the gym FINALLY this week - if I can keep this up.
On Monday night, I saw my shrink for my bi-weekly visit. I had a lot to say. It's been a hell of a time lately, what with my sister's wedding and the various dramas and chaos that surrounded that, plus a whole of other bullshit inflicted upon me in part due to my own personal stupidity. I was full-on verbal ramblings for the first 45 minutes of my session - we had a brief actual conversation for the last 5 so, while cathartic, the session was not particularly productive in terms of me getting any sort of direction on how to fumble through this thing that my life has somehow become.
On my way out, he said to me "A - you should write a blog. You need to tell these stories. Not only will it allow you to get them out, but the way you tell them is funny. I know the actual crap you have to deal with isn't funny on the surface, but the way you tell me about it is hysterical. You'd have thousands of readers."
I was totally flattered and told him I DO have a blog but, alas, at this time, some of those stories have to remain in my (private, locked down) journaal. Wrong audience here.
Of course, I am tempted to create an anonymous blog, just to test his theory!!!
In a totally unrelated situation, I had written a sort of "story" for a friend at work today. It's really just my way of releasing stress about a co-worker who drives us crazy. I try to make these stories mysterious and vague enough that, if anyone else were to see it, they'd have to at least think hard to figure out who I was talking about, but also funny or tongue-in-cheek.
I was on a roll this afternoon. I was tired (AM tired) and overworked and at my wit's end, so there I went. Totally unsolicited, after "publishing" a teaser on my latest story (I write them slowly, over a period of days, and provide my readers with "installments"), my one reader told me I was a great writer. WHAT?
Wait - WHAT?
I'm a math nerd.
I'm a former programmer.
I do things that are logical well - that's why I quilt and knit - math.
Writing is purely creative. And this compliment came from one of the most creative people I know. It was genuine.
And I'm still fucking floored by it. I wonder - but it's inspired me (OBVIOUSLY) to get back to my blogging more regularly. Now let's see - like my trip to the gym FINALLY this week - if I can keep this up.
unrelated side note about rudeness across the generations
While I'm on a roll (or not - LOL)...
I go and get my lunch every Friday at the same place. It's a small market / grocery store close to my office and they make some kick-ass (although too meat-laden unless you remember to order the junior size) sandwiches.
And every Friday when I am there - generally between 12:15 and 12:45 no thanks to my horrific meeting schedule - I marvel at the retirees who are there doing their weekly grocery shopping at that time. Here's the thing. This is a freakin' store that's known across that small town for its sandwiches. The only other sandwich shop in the area in Subway and, while I love Subway myself, you can't eat that stuff every day! So come on - grocery shop at 10:30 or 1:30. But 12:35????
To add insult to injury, in addition to my marveling at these people putting themselves through waiting in a line of 14 corporate suits needing sandwiches asap, I marvel more at those grocery shoppers who decide they shouldn't have to wait in line - and therefore don't.
You read that right. 65-ish year old men and women cutting in line because they need their 8 slices of olive loaf and you bet your ass they won't wait for my slightly out of shape 36 year old body to get her turkey and cheddar on pumpernickel. This happens to me - EASY - at least once a month, which is quite the statistic if you think about it - I only go there 4 or 5 times a month.
I am flabberghasted by these people. They will blantantly ignore the line of people waiting - which lines up the same way every.fucking.day and go to the other end of the deli counter and attempt to place their order.
The last person to (try to) do this to me was a small old man, 75-ish and a good 5 inches shorter than my 5'8" i.e. nearly 6' in my heels self.
He sidled up to me - bypassing the entire line by the way - and started ordering from the young kid who was attempting to help me. And you guessed it, he wanted an eighth (REALLY) of a pound of the cheapest, grayest looking ham they had. Give me a fucking break buddy. I don't give a rat's ass how old you are or how busy you are, I'm fucking next in line. The poor kid trying to wait on me looked perplexed but, to his credit, said "I'm sorry sir, but this woman has been waiting - the line is there" and pointed. Said old man actually continued ordering - are you fucking kidding me - so I shrugged and just said "Go ahead".
There is some irony in this. I have had people of the generation prior to me - and I am of the so-called Gen X - refer to my generation as selfish and rude and spoiled - and we sure as hell are. But uhm...the sense of entitlement rolls across generations...I don't think it's generation-specific, in fact; I think it's personality-specific.
So to that short-ass little man - you are fucking rude you jackass. How about you buy your fucking gray ham NOT during our lunch hour next time, so that the deli counter will have no line, and you won't come off as a rude prick by cutting 12 people in line. Jackass.
I go and get my lunch every Friday at the same place. It's a small market / grocery store close to my office and they make some kick-ass (although too meat-laden unless you remember to order the junior size) sandwiches.
And every Friday when I am there - generally between 12:15 and 12:45 no thanks to my horrific meeting schedule - I marvel at the retirees who are there doing their weekly grocery shopping at that time. Here's the thing. This is a freakin' store that's known across that small town for its sandwiches. The only other sandwich shop in the area in Subway and, while I love Subway myself, you can't eat that stuff every day! So come on - grocery shop at 10:30 or 1:30. But 12:35????
To add insult to injury, in addition to my marveling at these people putting themselves through waiting in a line of 14 corporate suits needing sandwiches asap, I marvel more at those grocery shoppers who decide they shouldn't have to wait in line - and therefore don't.
You read that right. 65-ish year old men and women cutting in line because they need their 8 slices of olive loaf and you bet your ass they won't wait for my slightly out of shape 36 year old body to get her turkey and cheddar on pumpernickel. This happens to me - EASY - at least once a month, which is quite the statistic if you think about it - I only go there 4 or 5 times a month.
I am flabberghasted by these people. They will blantantly ignore the line of people waiting - which lines up the same way every.fucking.day and go to the other end of the deli counter and attempt to place their order.
The last person to (try to) do this to me was a small old man, 75-ish and a good 5 inches shorter than my 5'8" i.e. nearly 6' in my heels self.
He sidled up to me - bypassing the entire line by the way - and started ordering from the young kid who was attempting to help me. And you guessed it, he wanted an eighth (REALLY) of a pound of the cheapest, grayest looking ham they had. Give me a fucking break buddy. I don't give a rat's ass how old you are or how busy you are, I'm fucking next in line. The poor kid trying to wait on me looked perplexed but, to his credit, said "I'm sorry sir, but this woman has been waiting - the line is there" and pointed. Said old man actually continued ordering - are you fucking kidding me - so I shrugged and just said "Go ahead".
There is some irony in this. I have had people of the generation prior to me - and I am of the so-called Gen X - refer to my generation as selfish and rude and spoiled - and we sure as hell are. But uhm...the sense of entitlement rolls across generations...I don't think it's generation-specific, in fact; I think it's personality-specific.
So to that short-ass little man - you are fucking rude you jackass. How about you buy your fucking gray ham NOT during our lunch hour next time, so that the deli counter will have no line, and you won't come off as a rude prick by cutting 12 people in line. Jackass.
it's a contradiction
November in Connecticut isn't exactly nice most of the time. Sometimes it snows, which is fine (although annoying because despite that being a good possibility, we're never ready for it). Sometimes it's rainy and cold and wet and nasty - mostly it seems some years. And then, because it's New England, there are those one or two shiny, sunny, 60 degree days. You hope they fall on an idle Saturday - and usually, they don't.
Today was a beautiful late fall day - a meeting-laden, stress-filled, exhausting busy work Friday. G shared a nice, although somewhat fast-moving (at least for him) cold, so I felt like shit from the moment I got in the office. I had an 8:30, 8:45, 9:30, 10:30, and an 11 - and I had testing I had to sign off on by noon that I hadn't started. You get the picture. I got in at 8:05 to an "emergency" call and there it went.
By the time 12:30 rolled around, I was sort of hungry, cranky, a little frustrated with my work and personal life, and needed a breather. Luckily, I never bring lunch on Friday (when our refrigerator looks like it was just delivered with some complimentary bottled water and wine - LOL) - so I had to get the hell out of that building.
I was surprised when I walked out of the building (my office is in the basement, which is exposed on one side, although not within my sight line unless I turn around) and not only was it not freezing cold, it was pleasantly warm (mid 50s) and so sunny I needed my sunglasses. It was wonderful.
After passing through the seat belt check point not subtley placed about 500 feet from our office - twice - I decided I would not work while shoving my sandwich down my throat. It was too nice to go inside - and I needed some time alone to shake the cobwebs out of my head.
I sat quietly at the picnic table with my sandwich and my thoughts. It was weird - for the millionth time in the recent past portion of my adult life, I thought about loneliness and the irony of loneliness.
I am a wife and a mother and a daughter and a big sister and an employee and a collegue and a friend. I am surrounded by people a good portion of my day. I have more friends now that I had as a child and especially as a teenager, and they are, to a person, great and amazing and supportive people.
So how come I feel lonely so much?
People equate loneliness to be alone. As the mother of an only child (by my choice - and his father's resignation I guess), I get a lot of crap that G will be or is lonely because he's alone.
But the thing is, not being alone doesn't insulate you from loneliness.
I remember being lonely as a child - and I had two siblings (sometimes much to my chagrin and no, that's no secret to them - I don't feel that way now) to play with all the time. But they were almost Irish twins and great friends - and I was an introverted, weird, nerdy kid who - in retrospect - isolated herself in some ways due to rampant insecurity and unhappiness. So even then, I was never alone (how could I be sharing that small room with my sister) and often lonely.
There I sat, at that picnic table - alone - and I was reminded that while I felt a little lonely there, I also had felt lonely in the office. I'm not lonely all the time, but it definitely ebbs and flows, and today was an oddly lonely day. I think I was in a self-pitying kind of mood because I didn't feel well, and because a few things had happened that morning that reminded me of a problem in my personal life that's long-standing, and just isn't fixable, and is making me feel frustrated, sad, and is isolating.
It was just one of those introspective moments where I was reminded that - like I said - loneliness isn't the same as alone. You can be in a crowded room with 100 of your friends and be lonely - it certainly happens to me.
Today was a beautiful late fall day - a meeting-laden, stress-filled, exhausting busy work Friday. G shared a nice, although somewhat fast-moving (at least for him) cold, so I felt like shit from the moment I got in the office. I had an 8:30, 8:45, 9:30, 10:30, and an 11 - and I had testing I had to sign off on by noon that I hadn't started. You get the picture. I got in at 8:05 to an "emergency" call and there it went.
By the time 12:30 rolled around, I was sort of hungry, cranky, a little frustrated with my work and personal life, and needed a breather. Luckily, I never bring lunch on Friday (when our refrigerator looks like it was just delivered with some complimentary bottled water and wine - LOL) - so I had to get the hell out of that building.
I was surprised when I walked out of the building (my office is in the basement, which is exposed on one side, although not within my sight line unless I turn around) and not only was it not freezing cold, it was pleasantly warm (mid 50s) and so sunny I needed my sunglasses. It was wonderful.
After passing through the seat belt check point not subtley placed about 500 feet from our office - twice - I decided I would not work while shoving my sandwich down my throat. It was too nice to go inside - and I needed some time alone to shake the cobwebs out of my head.
I sat quietly at the picnic table with my sandwich and my thoughts. It was weird - for the millionth time in the recent past portion of my adult life, I thought about loneliness and the irony of loneliness.
I am a wife and a mother and a daughter and a big sister and an employee and a collegue and a friend. I am surrounded by people a good portion of my day. I have more friends now that I had as a child and especially as a teenager, and they are, to a person, great and amazing and supportive people.
So how come I feel lonely so much?
People equate loneliness to be alone. As the mother of an only child (by my choice - and his father's resignation I guess), I get a lot of crap that G will be or is lonely because he's alone.
But the thing is, not being alone doesn't insulate you from loneliness.
I remember being lonely as a child - and I had two siblings (sometimes much to my chagrin and no, that's no secret to them - I don't feel that way now) to play with all the time. But they were almost Irish twins and great friends - and I was an introverted, weird, nerdy kid who - in retrospect - isolated herself in some ways due to rampant insecurity and unhappiness. So even then, I was never alone (how could I be sharing that small room with my sister) and often lonely.
There I sat, at that picnic table - alone - and I was reminded that while I felt a little lonely there, I also had felt lonely in the office. I'm not lonely all the time, but it definitely ebbs and flows, and today was an oddly lonely day. I think I was in a self-pitying kind of mood because I didn't feel well, and because a few things had happened that morning that reminded me of a problem in my personal life that's long-standing, and just isn't fixable, and is making me feel frustrated, sad, and is isolating.
It was just one of those introspective moments where I was reminded that - like I said - loneliness isn't the same as alone. You can be in a crowded room with 100 of your friends and be lonely - it certainly happens to me.
Sunday, November 7, 2010
my eyes itch...
...and I can smell the sour, bitter, smoky and somehow mellow smell of chiminea smoke in my hair - which makes the eye scratchiness worth it - sort of.
Thursday, November 4, 2010
it's stuck in my head
I was having a deep and meaningful conversation with one of my very closest friends today about music. We were talking about music and I said something that apparently is perplexing to everyone but me. ;-) I said that I have problems with songs that I really like, that really tickle a spot in my brain and get me humming along from moment one. It's just a certain type of song that does this to me. At first it's fun - it gets stuck in my head and keeps me company all day long. Then it's annoying, because I find myself singing it all day long and it just won't go away. Then, if it really reaches the apex of badness - I can't even hear the first note to it on the radio without wanting to rip my ears off. LOL. Needless to say, this opinion didn't resonate with my friend, who apparently likes when songs get stuck in his head but nevertheless...hopefully I got my point across. ;-)
Oh yeah - the song in question was "Mary", from the new Kings of Leon song. I really liked the 50s style of the song when I first heard the album. I was listening to it today, though, and wouldn't you know it - the damn song is now stuck in my head and pissing me off. That may be its kiss of death - we'll see. It hasn't been relegated to "Life is a Highway" status - yet. Geez, even typing the title of THAT song irritates me.
In other news, my sister's wedding is D-O-N-E! She and her new husband are enjoying a rainy vacation in a faraway land and the days of panicked emails regarding the orange and brown candy bar or how many pumpkins are needed for the front porch of the inn. We don't have to worry about the crisis d'jour will be the morning of the wedding (averted nicely due to the large number of medical professionals attending the wedding). PHEW! If I'm so relieved it's over, I'm sure M and T are even moreso!
It was a beautiful wedding on a beautiful, albeit it (very) chilly fall day in NJ. Congrats to them and may their marriage be significantly less drama-filled than mine is. GAH!
In other drama-related news, fall soccer is almost over. The parent/kid game is Saturday. Apparently I'll be playing. Does no one realize that there are many MANY reasons why I ran track and cross country as a kid, not the least of which is my rampant clumsiness?!?! Let's hope I don't injury myself in any way - Gregg's endless injuries and resulting surgeries are definitely sufficient.
Wow, bored yet?
I'd love to wax philosophical but I think I'm too damn exhausted. I feel like I'm on a treadmill and can't get off - which would be great in a way because I haven't been in the gym in about 2.5 months. What a freakin' slacker!!
I guess all is ok in my world. I am in another bit of a pickle career-wise. I am currently being courted by my former boss and a former peer for a job at another company. I've basically been hand-picked for this position and they're waiting for me.
Sounds great, right?
Uhm...of course nothing is simple.
First and foremost - the job is a 50-55 min commute for me. If I were childless, that wouldn't be a big deal, after all, I did a 45 min commute for almost 8 years. But I have a kid, a kid I don't see all that much as it is. that just feels....far.
And second - and I hate to write this down for fear of sounding like a bitch - but I'd be working for my former peer. She and I were peers for 2 years up until I left that job for my current job (about 3.5 yrs ago). Now I'd be working for her. I guess that resonates with me and prickles me because it reminds me of the frustrations I have in my current position. Not to toot my own horn, but I'm damn good at my job. I lack confidence in many areas of my life but I know I'm good at what I do. Two years ago, I was assured a leadership role "just as soon" as they could implement it. Yet here we sit, 2 years later, and I have the same damn title I did then. Oh I have gotten some fuzzy and definitely unofficial extra responsibilities for sure - but with ZERO power. So people know I'm a leader but when a decision needs to be made, I can't do a fucking thing.
So I guess the idea of having this former peer as a boss just reminds me that I am in this quagmire.
The good news is it's got me moving a little bit. My boss is currently out on disability. We are trying to hire 3 new people - we've selected one but need to pick the 2 others. This responsbility is being shared by 3 of us, but one of ladies involved is, well, bossy, and our manager left her to sort of 'champion' this. FREAKIN' FABULOUS. Bossy, of course, is being territorial and talking to the VP (our boss's boss) without us - so we get all the info 2nd hand. After interviewing several people, she delivered the bomb that the 2 remaining slots are both temps. Uhm...helpful information we needed a while ago!! Then she doesn't agree with us on what type of person we should hire, and we don't have clear direction.
The other person helping with the hiring is really more on the periphery. She recommended someone before this whole temp thing came up - a friend and an internal candidate - and now she feels fucked over, so she's stepped mostly out. But I've asked to meet with Bossy and the VP and I kept getting shut out.
Well screw that. I reached out to the VP last night. I told her I was trying to understand where we were headed and I had some ideas I'd like to run by her. I indicated I wasn't trying to go behind Bossy's back but that when I'd asked to be involved, I'd be shut out and now I wasn't clear on what the path was.
She emailed me back and said she'd call -hopefully she does. I"m proud of myself for speaking up. I need to take control of my career. No one is going to do it for me - this VP has said she's looking out for me, she's told everyone in my reporting chain she has "plans" for me - yet I've seen none of that. Enough already. I can contribute more - not by getting more work (something I seem to be good at) but by doing something different, by leading, by effecting organizational change. I need someone to take a chance on me.
Hence my dilemma.
Gregg thinks I should apply for that job anyway. I would feel like a dick because the reality is, unless they made me an AMAZING offer, I couldn't do.
Shit.
Oh yeah - the song in question was "Mary", from the new Kings of Leon song. I really liked the 50s style of the song when I first heard the album. I was listening to it today, though, and wouldn't you know it - the damn song is now stuck in my head and pissing me off. That may be its kiss of death - we'll see. It hasn't been relegated to "Life is a Highway" status - yet. Geez, even typing the title of THAT song irritates me.
In other news, my sister's wedding is D-O-N-E! She and her new husband are enjoying a rainy vacation in a faraway land and the days of panicked emails regarding the orange and brown candy bar or how many pumpkins are needed for the front porch of the inn. We don't have to worry about the crisis d'jour will be the morning of the wedding (averted nicely due to the large number of medical professionals attending the wedding). PHEW! If I'm so relieved it's over, I'm sure M and T are even moreso!
It was a beautiful wedding on a beautiful, albeit it (very) chilly fall day in NJ. Congrats to them and may their marriage be significantly less drama-filled than mine is. GAH!
In other drama-related news, fall soccer is almost over. The parent/kid game is Saturday. Apparently I'll be playing. Does no one realize that there are many MANY reasons why I ran track and cross country as a kid, not the least of which is my rampant clumsiness?!?! Let's hope I don't injury myself in any way - Gregg's endless injuries and resulting surgeries are definitely sufficient.
Wow, bored yet?
I'd love to wax philosophical but I think I'm too damn exhausted. I feel like I'm on a treadmill and can't get off - which would be great in a way because I haven't been in the gym in about 2.5 months. What a freakin' slacker!!
I guess all is ok in my world. I am in another bit of a pickle career-wise. I am currently being courted by my former boss and a former peer for a job at another company. I've basically been hand-picked for this position and they're waiting for me.
Sounds great, right?
Uhm...of course nothing is simple.
First and foremost - the job is a 50-55 min commute for me. If I were childless, that wouldn't be a big deal, after all, I did a 45 min commute for almost 8 years. But I have a kid, a kid I don't see all that much as it is. that just feels....far.
And second - and I hate to write this down for fear of sounding like a bitch - but I'd be working for my former peer. She and I were peers for 2 years up until I left that job for my current job (about 3.5 yrs ago). Now I'd be working for her. I guess that resonates with me and prickles me because it reminds me of the frustrations I have in my current position. Not to toot my own horn, but I'm damn good at my job. I lack confidence in many areas of my life but I know I'm good at what I do. Two years ago, I was assured a leadership role "just as soon" as they could implement it. Yet here we sit, 2 years later, and I have the same damn title I did then. Oh I have gotten some fuzzy and definitely unofficial extra responsibilities for sure - but with ZERO power. So people know I'm a leader but when a decision needs to be made, I can't do a fucking thing.
So I guess the idea of having this former peer as a boss just reminds me that I am in this quagmire.
The good news is it's got me moving a little bit. My boss is currently out on disability. We are trying to hire 3 new people - we've selected one but need to pick the 2 others. This responsbility is being shared by 3 of us, but one of ladies involved is, well, bossy, and our manager left her to sort of 'champion' this. FREAKIN' FABULOUS. Bossy, of course, is being territorial and talking to the VP (our boss's boss) without us - so we get all the info 2nd hand. After interviewing several people, she delivered the bomb that the 2 remaining slots are both temps. Uhm...helpful information we needed a while ago!! Then she doesn't agree with us on what type of person we should hire, and we don't have clear direction.
The other person helping with the hiring is really more on the periphery. She recommended someone before this whole temp thing came up - a friend and an internal candidate - and now she feels fucked over, so she's stepped mostly out. But I've asked to meet with Bossy and the VP and I kept getting shut out.
Well screw that. I reached out to the VP last night. I told her I was trying to understand where we were headed and I had some ideas I'd like to run by her. I indicated I wasn't trying to go behind Bossy's back but that when I'd asked to be involved, I'd be shut out and now I wasn't clear on what the path was.
She emailed me back and said she'd call -hopefully she does. I"m proud of myself for speaking up. I need to take control of my career. No one is going to do it for me - this VP has said she's looking out for me, she's told everyone in my reporting chain she has "plans" for me - yet I've seen none of that. Enough already. I can contribute more - not by getting more work (something I seem to be good at) but by doing something different, by leading, by effecting organizational change. I need someone to take a chance on me.
Hence my dilemma.
Gregg thinks I should apply for that job anyway. I would feel like a dick because the reality is, unless they made me an AMAZING offer, I couldn't do.
Shit.
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