My sister and I were in LA; we’re going to write all about it at Basket of Kisses. Thanks so much to arghous for minding the trivia store.
We caught a flight on 6 am on Sunday (leaving the house at 4 am to do so), and took a redeye home Tuesday night. So basically, we were sleepy and disoriented the whole trip. But it was glorious and I’ll surely have tales to tell.
The short answer: Cats.
The long answer:
The first time Fanty peed on my bed, she was angry because I’d tried to give her a pill. But then there was a second incident, that seemed to be no more than her thinking it was a good idea. And you know what? Getting into bed late at night, after a bad day, and discovering the bed is wet makes me cry like a baby. So Fanty was banned from the bedroom.
This is complicated, because I didn’t particularly want to ban Mingo from the bedroom. He is a cuddly cat, I love sleeping with him, and he goes through phases where he Must! be in the Lap! But he also can’t stand a closed door. So he cries to come in, I let him in, close the door behind him, he cries to get out. Hours of my life were spent opening and closing that motherfucking door.
Now remember, he just does this crying at the door thing, all the damn time. So sometimes I don’t get up. Especially if I’m asleep. If I’m asleep, I yell at him. Which isn’t restful but hey.
So early one morning, he was in the bedroom, and he was trying to get me up, as usual, and crying, as usual, and I ignore him, as usual, and he has a little accident in the corner.
Mingo is not Fanty. He has the decency to be ashamed about his misbehavior. Nonetheless, tinkle in the corner and Deborah ain’t happy. Also, these creatures from hell, they habituate to a spot, so now I’m worried that he’ll pee in that corner even when it’s not an emergency. So now both cats are banned from the bedroom and the door is always shut.
Which was fine for a few weeks. Despite the interruptions, I really missed sleeping with Mingo; he snuggles right underneath my arm, headbutting/nuzzling until he finds a cozy spot. It’s lovely. Hey, I’m a single girl, I need someone to hug.
Anyway, a couple of nights ago, Mingo suddenly started begging to be let in again, so, soft of heart, I let him in. And it is, truly, lovely to sleep with a furry cat purring next to you. But this morning OH. MY. GODS. Headbutting me at 6:30 am, I cannot, truly, risk another piddle incident, so I get out of bed and throw him out the door. Back in bed, I suddenly hear, not crying to get in, not scratching to get in, but apparently a construction crew. Seriously. It sounded like there was a bear about to eat him on the other side of the door. “Help me Obi Wan Deborah, you’re my only hope!”
I did not succumb.
I like the colors, it’s modern and easy to use, my old theme didn’t have the latest features, but it seems kind of bare. What do you think?
Arthur’s senior year, he volunteered with the Rockland Family Shelter, in their SAEDA program (Student Activists Ending Dating Abuse). At the end of the school year, they had a Recognition Dinner, honoring their volunteers. Arth wanted to go, so I drove him and attended as his guest.
During the various speeches and presentations, I found out about their Rape Crisis program, in which volunteers go to the emergency room to advocate for and be with rape victims. Sometimes the volunteers meet the victim at the police department as well. And all I could think was “I gotta do that!” I mean, I was blown away. I had no idea such a program existed and it just seemed the most glorious work; brave and intense and needed and kind of enthralling.
(Arthur was bored out of his mind by the dinner, which was mostly older people, few SAEDA teens, no music, no dancing, and just generally not what a teen wants to do with his evening.)
Well, sometimes you think you’re going to do something and don’t get around to it, but with my only child going off to college, I was determined not to drop this ball.
The training course for Rape Crisis Counselors ran from October through mid-February, and we (the new RCCs) began volunteering immediately. I do three shifts a month, and am on the stand-by list. When there are open shifts, I take extra if I am available. With all of that, I have only done one emergency room visit, and one phone counseling call (both, ironically, when I was on stand-by; I have never received a call when I was actually on call). RFS does about 65 hospital calls a year; 1.25 a week, and there are 11 volunteer shifts a week, so you do the math. Nonetheless, when the need is there, it is incredibly real.
Last night was the annual Volunteer Recognition Dinner. There I was, back again where this work began. It felt so wonderful and good.
And although it was more or less the same as last year; buffet-style food in a community center, volunteer entertainment, no dancing, I was thrilled and delighted to be there. I had warm conversations with the other volunteers from my RCC class, I enjoyed the slide show of people I knew and events I’d attended or heard about, and I was touched by the speeches.
I went home (soaking wet, caught in the rain) feeling warm and fulfilled and like I’d completed a beautiful circle. Which I have every intention of completing every year.
…which is not today. Today is like, Day Six. But anyway.
I arrive promptly at 9 a.m., because, y’know, new job. And no one is there. So I loiter outside the office for about 10 minutes until Kevin arrives and unlocks. Unfortunately, the woman who I share an office with is not yet in, so even though I am now inside the office, I am locked out of my office. While loitering in the hall, Kevin and I have a productive conversation/meeting. But still.
The office manager comes in at 10 every day. When she arrives, she tells us my office mate is sick with flu-like symptoms. Oy vey. She also gives me a set of keys.
Lunchtime rolls around and I have brought a lunch, so I prepare it and put it in the microwave and…the microwave is broken.
So I decide to explore the neighborhood and find someplace to buy lunch. Which is when I get in my car and discover the battery is dead.
Because the car is 4 years old and has the original battery, I am concerned that this may be an actual deceased battery, rather than just needing a jump, so I call a tow guy and they tell me one hour. So I buy a sandwich from the guy in the building and go back to my desk, and phone the tow people after an hour and fifteen to find out where they are. Twenty minutes, they tell me.
An hour and a half later, they arrive. By the time my motor is actually running, it’s four o’clock, and the guy advises me to keep the engine running and to bring it in somewhere to have the battery tested. So I phone upstairs to tell them I’m leaving and drive straight to Sears.
The guy who is testing my battery tells me that my tires look bald. Then the woman with the paperwork tells me my tires look bald. Then the service guy across the room shouts at the woman to check my tires because they look bald.
A new battery and four new tires later, I drive away.
Fortunately, subsequent days have been somewhat less eventful. But the microwave is still broken.
Looked up ergonomic chairs, found a reasonably-priced one, gave the info to the office manager. Also found nice wrist braces for mouse/keyboard use and gave that info to her.
Got set up on the server, got set up on Skype, got set up on email.
Researched free HTML editors but may or may not download, because I’m not sure I’ll need them, but if I do I know what to do about it.
Read the company’s website and was sort of horrified, hence the potential need for an HTML editor.
Filled out whole megatons of paperwork.
That’s mostly it, except I thought of a word. The word may be the most important thing I did all day. Okay, the payroll paperwork? Very important. But sometimes a word is a concept, a concept is a marketing plan, and all documents can flow from that plan. I think I thought of a very good word.
Went home, watched You’ve Got Mail, cried like a baby, thought some more about my word and other words, went to sleep.
1. Misfit and bird man underwater.
Solved by George (comment #5).
2. Pregnant woman goes to the movies, meets dummy.
Solved by George (comment #1).
3. Little big reporter and clown editor.
TIE: Solved by Melville (comment #6) and Ken (comment #7).
4. Southern gentleman robbed by expatriate saloon keeper.
Solved by Ken (comment #8).
5. Dog trainer and nun go on road trip.
Solved by George (comment #2).
6. Boxing great kidnaps professor.
Solved by George (comment #4).
7. Silent film star puts on a show in the barn of a Kansas farm girl.
Solved by Melville (comment #9).
So, this is great news for me, and also kind of an interesting moment for introspection.
At my last job, where I was for five years, I was experiencing a lot of boredom and restlessness. The work seemed flat. In part, this was because the work was flat; I was thwarted in my every effort to grow my job. Team leaders were happy with the way I expanded my value to them, then upper management swooped in and said, hold it sister, go back and sit in your corner.
At the same time, the flatness was spilling into my personal life. For the first time in many, many years, I paid some bills late because I just couldn’t be bothered opening them. My household chores, bill-paying to floor-washing, were puddling around my ankles, undone.
Since I was laid off a month ago, I’ve been much more interested in work. And not in a grass-is-greener way; I’ve been excited about the things I can write, and I’ve gotten a lot more personal writing done (although, mea culpa, not on this blog). I’ve been very energized and task-focused, so that things like updating my resume and following up on leads have been fun to accomplish. I feel like I’ve snapped that feeling of ennui, like I’ve had a profound wake-up call.
Yet there is still a kind of ankle puddle in the house. Damn that floor!
So the question is, after a month at home, how much of this transition has been transformational, and how much will the new job be performed by the same old Deborah?
I really don’t know.
As of yesterday, I join the ranks of the downsized.
It hasn’t quite hit me yet. I am making plans, sending resumés, networking, thinking things through. I grieve, oddly, the products I worked on quite a lot. My products were “sunsetted” and hence, the writer who documented them had no more work. That was me.
I have to say I think it’s a poor business decision. Big corporations are responding to market changes like they have the hiccups, killing off jobs in the hopes of making stockholders happy. But there’s more to strategy than being in-the-moment. Three years from now, the crisis will be over, and the products and brainpower will have moved on. Then they’ll be hiccuping again, wondering why it’s so hard to hire the right people.
I’ll be okay. I have a wee bit of savings which will, with my severance, tide me over. I don’t anticipate a life of soup kitchens and homeless shelters. Neither do I plan on living beyond my means. Vacation cancelled, priorities reorganized. And amazingly calm throughout the entire thing.
If you know of anyone interested in hiring a brilliant, personable, focused writer/designer/business analyst, do please get in touch.
The other night, I had for dinner:
Kale chips
Leeks
Chicken liver
It was so good. So good. But no one would eat this with me. Making crazyass meals like this is one of the real joys of living alone.
Kale chips I got from a commenter at Shapely Prose. Oh gods the goodness. My leeks I got more or less from Fanny Farmer, which is my favorite cookbook. Possibly my favorite book. The whole meal is a hearty iron & minerals extravaganza.
Kale chips
Kale, drizzled in olive oil
Spread on a cookie sheet, bake 20 minutes at 350 degrees.
That’s all there is to it as received, but I’ll add that the kale should be chopped into small, bite-sized pieces, and, rather than drizzle, I’d drizzle then toss. Otherwise, you get little pools of oil and little dry spots. A thorough tossing so there’s a very light even coating makes them perfect.
Sautéed leeks
2 leeks, cut into thick coins
1 large clove garlic, smashed
About 1/2 cup chicken broth
Sauté the garlic in olive oil for about 2 minutes, then add the leeks. Cook about 5 minutes, stirring occasionally.
Add chicken broth, cover, cook over medium flame about five minutes. Uncover and cook another five minutes.
So good!
Chicken liver
2 livers, washed and patted dry
Sauté until really really done.
Happiness!
I know, you hate liver. You probably hate kale. And you’re iffy about the whole leek thing. That’s the point. This is Deborah Eats Alone The Hell With You food. And it is such a delight to be able to indulge in it.
