It's been a long, tough few weeks, and I really want this all to be over with.
I'm having a health scare at the moment. It could be nothing, or it could be something scary, or it could be something in between, and I just have to wait and see. Needless to say, I've already diagnosed myself with all the bad things it could be. Dr. Google is a menace.
I'm scared, and my family's far away, and if it does turn out that there's something wrong I won't have anyone to take care of me over here. I've just started this new job, and all I want to do is enjoy it. I wasn't counting on this happening.
And then last weekend, a really bad thing happened. I used to play softball up north, before I moved down here. It's kind of an obscure sport to be playing in England, and the league was full of friendly, close-knit people. My team in particular had some wicked people on it. They were hilarious, fun-loving, and kind. I still see them at tournaments, and they still treat me like one of their own. I'm still welcome to come play any time. I'm still one of them.
I remember my first tournament, before my first game. I was feeling a bit shy, sitting off on the sidelines eating some breakfast. It couldn't have been 10.00 am yet. And this guy, I'll call him Z, came up to me and started teasing me for eating healthy breakfast food when I should have been drinking beer. And just like that, I was a part of the team.
I've never seen anyone play as well as Z. He was a beast. Everything he did, he looked like an instructional video. He was so technically perfect, but he also had so much fun playing the game. He competed internationally, but was never ever stuck up about it. I loved watching him play, and I loved hanging out with him after the game, because he was just chill and fun.
Z was found dead in his house last weekend. I have no idea what happened, just that one day he was posting on facebook and the next day people were posting RIP on his wall.
It shook me up more than it should have. We were never that close, but he was the kind of guy who just lit up a room, and everyone gravitated towards him. The world is worse off for having lost him.
It all just makes me so sad.
And this health thing, Z's passing kind of puts that into perspective, because even if I'm not 100%, well, at least I'm still here. It still scares me, and I still want it to go away, but it's also helped put things in perspective for me.
I spend way too much energy stressing about the small things. Ironically, this whole thing could be caused by stress. But at the end of the day, the small things are pointless. If my flatmate wants to move out and move too many people into my small flat, that's fine. I can cope, or I can leave. I have choices. And pretty much everything other than my friends and family and enjoyment of life are irrelevant.
And speaking of friends, my sister said the sweetest thing about all of this. I was telling her that I'm scared, that I have no support system here. I mean, I do, I have friends, but they're not the friends who I've known for years and I could comfortably ask for favours. I hate asking for favours. Anyway, my sister was saying how of course I have a support system and I should quit being silly. If I came home, my family would take care of me if that's what I needed. And she said that my family included her, and a couple other close friends I've had for ages. She hardly even knows them, they'd only met through me, but she just stated it like a fact. That she knew they'd be there for me. And, you know, she's right. I know good people.
And after that, maybe even the next day, I was telling a new friend of mine about an appointment I have with a specialist this week, and he offered to take me. Just like that. I didn't expect it, and it almost made me tear up a bit. I know good people.
And anyway. Here's the promise. If this is a false alarm, and I guess even if it isn't, I'm going to relax more. Enjoy more. Make more of an effort to spend time with people, and less of an effort with my to-do list. I'll keep you posted.
Sunday, December 09, 2012
Monday, October 29, 2012
The First Week
I'm almost afraid to say it because it seems too good to be true, but this job is what I held out for.
Don't get me wrong, it's going to be a lot of work. It's a really, really fast paced job, with more work than time in the day. There's a lot of stuff I've never done before, and a lot of things I'm not even sure how to do, but this is what I wanted. A job where I could learn and grow and make my mark. The job I'm doing is brand new, so I get to help define what exactly it is that I'll be doing. I also am the only one in the whole charity who does what I do, which makes me feel a bit important and special.
My bosses seem awesome, and are all about learning transferable skills and taking classes. People in this charity change jobs all the time, and they seem really happy to let people hop around until they find their niche. I've already spotted a couple jobs I like the idea of, but that's as far as I'll let my brain wander. I really want to work like a beast and smash this job in the face. In a good way.
Everyone else there seems really awesome too. People are friendly, funny, smart and interesting. They even have a softball team for me to join in the spring. I spoke about softball in my interview, used it as an example of leadership or teamwork or something. I went on and on, unaware I was talking to the captain of the charity's softball team. By the end of my speech, she told me that if I was hired I'd be playing for them.
And the charity, the more I learn about what we do, the prouder I am to be a part of it. I'm sorry for being so vague, but I'm not quite ready to say where it is just yet. But rest assured it's pretty gosh darn fantastic, and one of those charities that you can't really be opposed to.
On a shallow note: The building is awesome. It's in a great neighborhood with a few nice takeaway restaurants for lunch and a direct tube to my house. And the building itself is gorgeous, with views I hope I never take for granted.
So, it looks like I have a happy ending/beginning, or at least so far so good. I go back and forth between being terrified that I'll flop and so, so proud of myself. I think the terrified thing is normal, so I'll focus on the proud for a second: I did it, y'all. I frigging fought for this. I held out, even when it sucked, because I.... I don't even know, really. Something between a gut feeling and a whole load of stubborn, I guess. But in the end, I did it. I got my job under my own steam - my CV/resume, my interviews, all me.
And I know this should be the easy part - the hard part is actually doing the job. It will be. That'll come. But for now, today, I'm so damned happy and excited and proud of myself. I listened to myself and I did it.
And from here, I can start changing the world.
[picture to follow. i've got a new laptop and my pictures are still chillin' on my old one]
Don't get me wrong, it's going to be a lot of work. It's a really, really fast paced job, with more work than time in the day. There's a lot of stuff I've never done before, and a lot of things I'm not even sure how to do, but this is what I wanted. A job where I could learn and grow and make my mark. The job I'm doing is brand new, so I get to help define what exactly it is that I'll be doing. I also am the only one in the whole charity who does what I do, which makes me feel a bit important and special.
My bosses seem awesome, and are all about learning transferable skills and taking classes. People in this charity change jobs all the time, and they seem really happy to let people hop around until they find their niche. I've already spotted a couple jobs I like the idea of, but that's as far as I'll let my brain wander. I really want to work like a beast and smash this job in the face. In a good way.
Everyone else there seems really awesome too. People are friendly, funny, smart and interesting. They even have a softball team for me to join in the spring. I spoke about softball in my interview, used it as an example of leadership or teamwork or something. I went on and on, unaware I was talking to the captain of the charity's softball team. By the end of my speech, she told me that if I was hired I'd be playing for them.
And the charity, the more I learn about what we do, the prouder I am to be a part of it. I'm sorry for being so vague, but I'm not quite ready to say where it is just yet. But rest assured it's pretty gosh darn fantastic, and one of those charities that you can't really be opposed to.
On a shallow note: The building is awesome. It's in a great neighborhood with a few nice takeaway restaurants for lunch and a direct tube to my house. And the building itself is gorgeous, with views I hope I never take for granted.
So, it looks like I have a happy ending/beginning, or at least so far so good. I go back and forth between being terrified that I'll flop and so, so proud of myself. I think the terrified thing is normal, so I'll focus on the proud for a second: I did it, y'all. I frigging fought for this. I held out, even when it sucked, because I.... I don't even know, really. Something between a gut feeling and a whole load of stubborn, I guess. But in the end, I did it. I got my job under my own steam - my CV/resume, my interviews, all me.
And I know this should be the easy part - the hard part is actually doing the job. It will be. That'll come. But for now, today, I'm so damned happy and excited and proud of myself. I listened to myself and I did it.
And from here, I can start changing the world.
[picture to follow. i've got a new laptop and my pictures are still chillin' on my old one]
Monday, October 15, 2012
I did it
I know it's been way too long. I should have been writing, detailing my struggles to get my life back on track and find something worthwhile to do.
I should have been writing, but really, it was a lot of the same. Apply, rejection, apply, rejection. Interview, interview, interview. Phone call from recruiter about cool job in lame company or lame job in cool company or lame job in lame company with good pay. Apply, don't apply, rejection letter. Over and over.
There have been some cool spots, don't get me wrong. I temped with London 2012, which had nothing at all to do with my long term career goals, but as a total Olympics-geek was too cool to pass up. And I spent a month back home, watching 2 of my favorite people get married to awesome guys. I took a road trip to New York, to visit a high school friend with my sister Carrie. I was even voted MVP (most valuable player) of my softball team. I was disproportionately proud of that last one.
The past few months have been fine, but it's depressing not having a job, spending all my free time applying, getting shot down again and again. I have a lot to offer. Take me up on it, world! Life was fine, but I was spinning my wheels, and had no way of making long term plans.
When I was back in Canada, I kept applying for jobs. From my childhood bedroom, and my parents' kitchen, I applied and applied. I wanted interviews lined up for when I got back to the UK, so I could it the ground running.
I remember applying for this one job. I know I applied for lots, but I remember this one because it seemed suited to me. It listed the need for a background in recruitment (my role with London 2012 was with the recruitment team), interest in social change (check) and a background in teaching or working with kids (check). I applied. And then I was offered a phone interview. I guessed at their questions and wrote down what I thought I should say. And then they offered me a real interview, and then a second one. I thought it went well, but you never know with these things, and I didn't even want to get my hopes up.
This is an amazing charity, after all. I love what they do. I'll keep the specifics vague for the moment, but I really, really believe in what they do. They have a nice office with a gorgeous view in a great part of town. They offer good holiday benefits, discounted gym memberships, and lots and lots of opportunities for progression. They have won awards for being one of the best places to work in the UK.
They called me last week, and offered me a job.
I got my job, y'all. In a charity. Just like I wanted.
I keep re-reading that last sentence, over and over. I got my job. I got my job. When my new boss called and said "we'd like to offer you the position", I had to stop myself from asking to repeat herself.
I start next week.
It still doesn't feel real. But soon enough it'll sink in, and my free time will be my own again. I can volunteer and run and take classes and play softball. I can get my camera out, or go sit in a cafe and write on a Saturday afternoon, and I can make plans.
I promise, I will cherish this. I will give it my all, and do my best to remember why I'm there and treat it like more than just a 9 - 5 job. This is my chance. I want to start building a life for myself and to make my change in the world.
I should have been writing, but really, it was a lot of the same. Apply, rejection, apply, rejection. Interview, interview, interview. Phone call from recruiter about cool job in lame company or lame job in cool company or lame job in lame company with good pay. Apply, don't apply, rejection letter. Over and over.
There have been some cool spots, don't get me wrong. I temped with London 2012, which had nothing at all to do with my long term career goals, but as a total Olympics-geek was too cool to pass up. And I spent a month back home, watching 2 of my favorite people get married to awesome guys. I took a road trip to New York, to visit a high school friend with my sister Carrie. I was even voted MVP (most valuable player) of my softball team. I was disproportionately proud of that last one.
The past few months have been fine, but it's depressing not having a job, spending all my free time applying, getting shot down again and again. I have a lot to offer. Take me up on it, world! Life was fine, but I was spinning my wheels, and had no way of making long term plans.
When I was back in Canada, I kept applying for jobs. From my childhood bedroom, and my parents' kitchen, I applied and applied. I wanted interviews lined up for when I got back to the UK, so I could it the ground running.
I remember applying for this one job. I know I applied for lots, but I remember this one because it seemed suited to me. It listed the need for a background in recruitment (my role with London 2012 was with the recruitment team), interest in social change (check) and a background in teaching or working with kids (check). I applied. And then I was offered a phone interview. I guessed at their questions and wrote down what I thought I should say. And then they offered me a real interview, and then a second one. I thought it went well, but you never know with these things, and I didn't even want to get my hopes up.
This is an amazing charity, after all. I love what they do. I'll keep the specifics vague for the moment, but I really, really believe in what they do. They have a nice office with a gorgeous view in a great part of town. They offer good holiday benefits, discounted gym memberships, and lots and lots of opportunities for progression. They have won awards for being one of the best places to work in the UK.
They called me last week, and offered me a job.
I got my job, y'all. In a charity. Just like I wanted.
I keep re-reading that last sentence, over and over. I got my job. I got my job. When my new boss called and said "we'd like to offer you the position", I had to stop myself from asking to repeat herself.
I start next week.
It still doesn't feel real. But soon enough it'll sink in, and my free time will be my own again. I can volunteer and run and take classes and play softball. I can get my camera out, or go sit in a cafe and write on a Saturday afternoon, and I can make plans.
I promise, I will cherish this. I will give it my all, and do my best to remember why I'm there and treat it like more than just a 9 - 5 job. This is my chance. I want to start building a life for myself and to make my change in the world.
Tuesday, April 10, 2012
Last Night a Bar Job Saved My Life
Typical text message exchange recently:
Me: Hiya, boss. I need some more hours.
Boss: Go away.
Me: So, sayyy... Saturday all day, off Sunday, and Monday in the afternoon?
Boss: Sure. See you then!
Actually, usually he texts me and then 10 seconds later calls me laughing at his own joke that he's JUST texted me. Sometimes he even reads his text out loud, word for word, just to make sure I took it all in.
For all his faults (no, no, you're perfect the way you are, Boss!) the dude has actually been pretty awesome during this recent bout of unemployment/underemployment. I told him I didn't want to sign up for more shifts because if a temp role came in I'd either have to turn the job down or leave the bar in a sticky situation. Not good options. So he said to come on in whenever I wanted, and he'd let some other staff leave early if they wanted, or he'd figure out something for me to do. Basically, I can set my own hours and he'll do his best to make it happen.
This past weekend I set my own hours. 30 of them in 3 days. And now, after I write this post, I'm going to go buy some Crocs for my poor achy feet. Yes, really. I have to do something, I literally limped home at the end of a 12 hour shift on Sunday.
And let me tell you about Sunday. On Friday (Good Friday), I sold more on the floor than I ever have. Including my previous stint at the same bar, and, I think, any other bar or restaurant I've ever worked at. Given inflation and conversion rates and maybe even some memory loss, I can't be 100% sure. But regardless, I sold almost a thousand pounds worth of food and drinks in a 5.5 hour shift. And the boss loved that.
So on Sunday, I was working a 12 hour shift, because we are short staffed and I need money. Wins all around (except for my poor feet, maybe). On my break, I tried to order some fries. This was because a)I have no money, and b)it's Passover, and while I'm not being uber religious I'm trying to avoid certain foods. My boss flipped. WTF was I doing trying to survive on fries? (I didn't dare tell him I'd been munching on olives and nuts all day, and one of the chefs had overcooked some eggs so he'd fed the to me too). I said I wasn't that hungry. He roared and called me a liar. Then he proceed to order me pretty much everything on the menu. Maybe a slight exaggeration, but not that much of one. The guys in the kitchen were baffled, but eventually brought me my feast. I couldn't come close to finishing it.
He said it's because he likes me, and because I've been doing a great job. I hope it wasn't pity. But either way, I'm keeping my head above the water.
Pour you a pint?
PS - And in case you were wondering... I didn't take the "dream job". I'm trying to build a life for myself here. It involves a killer job for sure, but it also involves weddings, softball, parental visits and a permanent job so I don't wind up job hunting again 6 months down the road. Not sure it was the right decision, but it was the one I made and I stand by that.
Me: Hiya, boss. I need some more hours.
Boss: Go away.
Me: So, sayyy... Saturday all day, off Sunday, and Monday in the afternoon?
Boss: Sure. See you then!
Actually, usually he texts me and then 10 seconds later calls me laughing at his own joke that he's JUST texted me. Sometimes he even reads his text out loud, word for word, just to make sure I took it all in.
For all his faults (no, no, you're perfect the way you are, Boss!) the dude has actually been pretty awesome during this recent bout of unemployment/underemployment. I told him I didn't want to sign up for more shifts because if a temp role came in I'd either have to turn the job down or leave the bar in a sticky situation. Not good options. So he said to come on in whenever I wanted, and he'd let some other staff leave early if they wanted, or he'd figure out something for me to do. Basically, I can set my own hours and he'll do his best to make it happen.
This past weekend I set my own hours. 30 of them in 3 days. And now, after I write this post, I'm going to go buy some Crocs for my poor achy feet. Yes, really. I have to do something, I literally limped home at the end of a 12 hour shift on Sunday.
And let me tell you about Sunday. On Friday (Good Friday), I sold more on the floor than I ever have. Including my previous stint at the same bar, and, I think, any other bar or restaurant I've ever worked at. Given inflation and conversion rates and maybe even some memory loss, I can't be 100% sure. But regardless, I sold almost a thousand pounds worth of food and drinks in a 5.5 hour shift. And the boss loved that.
So on Sunday, I was working a 12 hour shift, because we are short staffed and I need money. Wins all around (except for my poor feet, maybe). On my break, I tried to order some fries. This was because a)I have no money, and b)it's Passover, and while I'm not being uber religious I'm trying to avoid certain foods. My boss flipped. WTF was I doing trying to survive on fries? (I didn't dare tell him I'd been munching on olives and nuts all day, and one of the chefs had overcooked some eggs so he'd fed the to me too). I said I wasn't that hungry. He roared and called me a liar. Then he proceed to order me pretty much everything on the menu. Maybe a slight exaggeration, but not that much of one. The guys in the kitchen were baffled, but eventually brought me my feast. I couldn't come close to finishing it.
He said it's because he likes me, and because I've been doing a great job. I hope it wasn't pity. But either way, I'm keeping my head above the water.
Pour you a pint?
PS - And in case you were wondering... I didn't take the "dream job". I'm trying to build a life for myself here. It involves a killer job for sure, but it also involves weddings, softball, parental visits and a permanent job so I don't wind up job hunting again 6 months down the road. Not sure it was the right decision, but it was the one I made and I stand by that.
Thursday, April 05, 2012
Decisions, decisions
I will be better at this. I promise.
Starting...now.
No, really.
Today was a big leap forwards. Or backwards, maybe. I'm still not sure.
The temp contract finished last week, and other than a bit of bar work (and a recruitment consultant paying me 13 quid to edit a content entry) I'm pretty much unemployed. This is not a state I like, nor one I feel comfortable with. It's also something I've been trying oh so hard to change.
Last week, I thought I had my chance.
I applied for a billion jobs, some of which sounded awesome. One of these was designing a program(me) for young people to do some volunteering in the community. Sound like something I'd love? That's because it is. It's a combo of a charity and a leadership conference and an activist stance for a cause I believe in. 2, actually. Young people and volunteerism.
There's a catch. Lately, it seems, there's almost always a catch.
It's a 6 month contract. Which means in 6 months I'll be back in the same position that I'm in now. Which isn't so bad because, as was pointed out to me by a wise friend, I'm currently where I am now. But. The job allows for no time off. At all. That, combined with the awkwardness of the shift pattern (not Mon - Fri 9 - 5) means softball, the bar job (shuddup, it's grown on me) and any time off for small trips are out the window. It also means that I'd have to miss the weddings of 2 very dear friends, back home in Canada.
I want a long term, ongoing job. One with a holiday allocation and a pension and maybe a nice built in gym. When I applied for the job, The website mentioned none of the drawbacks. It even explicitly stated it was a permanent job. I wouldn't have applied otherwise.
I called it a dream job, and the job itself is. But everything else about it stinks. And now, I have no idea what to do.
I have until Tuesday to decide.
Shall I go towards the light?
Starting...now.
No, really.
Today was a big leap forwards. Or backwards, maybe. I'm still not sure.
The temp contract finished last week, and other than a bit of bar work (and a recruitment consultant paying me 13 quid to edit a content entry) I'm pretty much unemployed. This is not a state I like, nor one I feel comfortable with. It's also something I've been trying oh so hard to change.
Last week, I thought I had my chance.
I applied for a billion jobs, some of which sounded awesome. One of these was designing a program(me) for young people to do some volunteering in the community. Sound like something I'd love? That's because it is. It's a combo of a charity and a leadership conference and an activist stance for a cause I believe in. 2, actually. Young people and volunteerism.
There's a catch. Lately, it seems, there's almost always a catch.
It's a 6 month contract. Which means in 6 months I'll be back in the same position that I'm in now. Which isn't so bad because, as was pointed out to me by a wise friend, I'm currently where I am now. But. The job allows for no time off. At all. That, combined with the awkwardness of the shift pattern (not Mon - Fri 9 - 5) means softball, the bar job (shuddup, it's grown on me) and any time off for small trips are out the window. It also means that I'd have to miss the weddings of 2 very dear friends, back home in Canada.
I want a long term, ongoing job. One with a holiday allocation and a pension and maybe a nice built in gym. When I applied for the job, The website mentioned none of the drawbacks. It even explicitly stated it was a permanent job. I wouldn't have applied otherwise.
I called it a dream job, and the job itself is. But everything else about it stinks. And now, I have no idea what to do.
I have until Tuesday to decide.
Shall I go towards the light?
Saturday, February 04, 2012
I'm ba-ack (again)
Whoops. Sorry, y'all. Well, sorry to the one person who's still reading this. Whoever you are, thanks!
Anyway. The boring updates:
- Still working part time at the pub but about to quit. I needed the extra money, but I've worked 19 straight days and am starting to miss things. Like the sunshine. And a life.
- Had a job interview for a job I would have quite liked. Thought I had a good chance, since a chunk of it was about writing and hey, I write. Nope, turns out I went on about that too much, and actually they wanted someone with more administration experience. I can do admin! Anyone can do admin! I didn't go on about it because, well, I thought everyone being interviewed would have enough frigging admin experience. Bah.
- I'm now temping at a large charity. I don't want to name names, but its one of the big ones and I'm hoping to get my foot in the door there. At the moment, I'm working as "support" staff, and what that means is I book a lot of train tickets for important people to go to important meetings. Weirdly enough, it's also quite slow paced and relaxed (read: dull).
- I have an interview coming up next week. I also have a haircut coming up the day before the interview. The two are related.
That's it, really. I work a lot, I apply for jobs, I run not as often as I should, I work another job, and I occasionally see friends. I've become dull. I feel like too much hinges on getting a job, any job, because then I can really begin my life. Only, what?
Well, I'd quit the job at the pub. I will anyway, but I'd do it immediately and with the confidence that I don't need the place. Temp jobs are precarious, and it scares me that I could walk in on Monday and they could tell me they don't need me anymore.
I'd free up some time. I spend a fair bit of time applying for jobs..and I spend a lot more staring at a blank screen, writing yet another cover letter. This free time would allow me to... do good shit. Take pictures. Run. Write. Lay the groundwork for the Big Idea, which at the moment has been shoved into some dusty, unused corner of my brain. I'd also have a nice job in which I could do good shit during the day.
I'd have a budget, not just the vague idea that I need to save every penny for an inevitable rainy day. Last week my laptop charger broke and I almost had a brain explosion wondering what if it was my computer and what I'd do and how I'd afford a new one.
I don't know, a lot of it just seems like an excuse. I could go shooting pictures today. I could be writing a novel right now. But so much of my my brain space is all job-security-job-security, that everything else seems less significant by comparison. Which is lame. I've never really been like this before.
But hey. Interviews. Progress. And stuff WILL fall into place. I'll force it. I have Jack Layton's quote as my screen saver, and I believe it in. I will change the damn world.
A tall mountain to climb. Or something.
Anyway. The boring updates:
- Still working part time at the pub but about to quit. I needed the extra money, but I've worked 19 straight days and am starting to miss things. Like the sunshine. And a life.
- Had a job interview for a job I would have quite liked. Thought I had a good chance, since a chunk of it was about writing and hey, I write. Nope, turns out I went on about that too much, and actually they wanted someone with more administration experience. I can do admin! Anyone can do admin! I didn't go on about it because, well, I thought everyone being interviewed would have enough frigging admin experience. Bah.
- I'm now temping at a large charity. I don't want to name names, but its one of the big ones and I'm hoping to get my foot in the door there. At the moment, I'm working as "support" staff, and what that means is I book a lot of train tickets for important people to go to important meetings. Weirdly enough, it's also quite slow paced and relaxed (read: dull).
- I have an interview coming up next week. I also have a haircut coming up the day before the interview. The two are related.
That's it, really. I work a lot, I apply for jobs, I run not as often as I should, I work another job, and I occasionally see friends. I've become dull. I feel like too much hinges on getting a job, any job, because then I can really begin my life. Only, what?
Well, I'd quit the job at the pub. I will anyway, but I'd do it immediately and with the confidence that I don't need the place. Temp jobs are precarious, and it scares me that I could walk in on Monday and they could tell me they don't need me anymore.
I'd free up some time. I spend a fair bit of time applying for jobs..and I spend a lot more staring at a blank screen, writing yet another cover letter. This free time would allow me to... do good shit. Take pictures. Run. Write. Lay the groundwork for the Big Idea, which at the moment has been shoved into some dusty, unused corner of my brain. I'd also have a nice job in which I could do good shit during the day.
I'd have a budget, not just the vague idea that I need to save every penny for an inevitable rainy day. Last week my laptop charger broke and I almost had a brain explosion wondering what if it was my computer and what I'd do and how I'd afford a new one.
I don't know, a lot of it just seems like an excuse. I could go shooting pictures today. I could be writing a novel right now. But so much of my my brain space is all job-security-job-security, that everything else seems less significant by comparison. Which is lame. I've never really been like this before.
But hey. Interviews. Progress. And stuff WILL fall into place. I'll force it. I have Jack Layton's quote as my screen saver, and I believe it in. I will change the damn world.
A tall mountain to climb. Or something.
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