It’s back to the grind for me

And I’m pretty darned happy about it.

The same contract that had ended flipped at the beginning of 2008 into full-time employment. What I hadn’t reported: as my contract was ending, the person I reported to asked why I hadn’t indicated my interest in the position. At some point in this discussion, I confirmed that I would had been interested in the full-time position.

When the person unexpectedly left the company, I took the position.

I have some mixed emotions about jumping back into the corporate world (and a California company at that – I love California, but don’t love the differing time zones). But I really am happy to be employed, at a place I know, with health benefits.

I intend to keep up this blog, though, because something fundamental has changed in how I look at things. I don’t want to lose that.

Oh. My. God.

My email has been down all day. Hell, probably all night, too. Apparently the problem is with the mail server (the host guy told me he sicced the sysops on the problem – whatever).

I’m struggling with trying to stay upbeat, but it’s pretty damned hard when the one (well, okay, the most common) way someone might get ahold of me to give me a contract or job or whatever is completely gone.

I want to send the support dude a mean email, but that would accomplish nothing. I want to rail at the world, but I’m pretty sure the world doesn’t care. Man. So much anger and frustration… nowhere to put it.

Self-pity aside…

Sorry for that last post. Criminy. You’d think a girl could handle the downs with the ups, eh?

I am in the middle of password hell. You know… the place where you find yourself needing to log into some place you have been before, but now you can’t remember your password (and no, you didn’t write the damned thing down because you didn’t think you would need it again, and you didn’t have a piece of paper). And you request a password reset, but it turns out you have TWO accounts. And you managed to reset one account password, but not the one you need.

So thought I would take a break from that bit of joy and apologize.

Life: It’s a gas

Some people are able to learn quickly. Others apparently require endless repetition.

For example, some people, once laid off from a job, might take that to mean that life is uncertain. Not I! I slid blithely into a part-time contract position (no benefits, no vacation, no security) and stop looking for anything else.

And guess what? My contract ended. With any warning? No. Backup plan? None. Money stashed away? Nope.

I have struggled with this since the beginning, actually: how can you look ahead, when you are panicking at what faces you right now. Well, I assure you there is nothing more immediate to me.

There’s this other thing I’ve been thinking about, too. Even before my dad died, I have been dwelling on death. No, no. Not my own. Really more about how we all are so busy with the mechanics of living that we don’t enjoy life. Then we die. And maybe the lucky few can enjoy the flashback right before the end.

I need to work harder on the flashback details.

Dancing Cows

My husband, my mother and I had returned from a long weekend in the Black Hills (beautiful, relaxing and mind-clearing, but also a separate story).

I remember driving into the yard after a childhood vacation as being bittersweet: on the one hand, you are coming home; on the other hand, God knows what’s waiting for you. The telephone started ringing nearly the moment we got into mom’s house and continued into the evening.

Bear with me a bit, as I seemingly go off onto a tangent. Cattle are mostly dull animals. I suspect that’s why the commercials featuring the happy California cows tickle my fancy. Those cows not only look up from their grazing, but they also have game-filled lives. My husband and I have a running joke when we see a cow acting in a non-typical fashion. “That’s a happy cow,” even if the animal is merely paying attention to traffic going by on the road. At least it notices the cars.

So back to the evening in question… we suddenly hear a knock on the door. A stranger (typical midwest farmer type) asks us if we have cattle. “They’re all over the road. We almost ran into them.” My mother has no livestock, but suspected they were the neighbor’s. The man is persistent, even as we say we’re calling the rightful owners. “There’s a whole string of cars stopped on the road. Those cows are just prancing about and won’t get off the highway. We almost ran into them.”

It turns out the gentleman had gone into town to buy a car for his teenaged son, and they and his wife were driving back home. The son, who was driving his newly-purchased vehicle, had nearly run into the cows. When it became obvious that he wasn’t going to leave unless we did something, I put on a coat and tracked down a flashlight, with the idea that I would holler and get the cows off the highway. By the time I got outside, the man’s wife (following in the family car) had also driven into the yard, and was now saying the cows had retreated, so everyone could go on their way. 

My mother heard more of the story the next day when another neighbor checked in at her work. Apparently, he was in one of the several cars stopped on the highway the evening before (so much for thinking it had only been the two cars). Furthermore, he confirmed that the “cows were dancing and prancing on the highway, and when we rolled down the windows to yell at them, they started licking our windshields.”

Now THOSE are some happy cows! 

Wrap-up to some things

So, thanks to those of you who reminded me of my blog. I read back through earlier posts and realized some things are resolved.

1. Worrying that moving back without a job would matter.
   HA! What a slap in the face. Nobody gives a shit what I do! Ironically, the whole “people have an old-fashioned outlook” thing inherent to a small town in South Dakota works in my favor. Everyone only asks what my husband does. Even typing this, I am laughing my ass off!
2. Finding a minimal job.
   Ok, I did that. I forgot that I had said this would be preferable. I have a job working 10-15 hours a week from the house. Totally pleasant job. Duh. And yet I keep panicking that I am not working more hours, or getting more money. That “need more money” thing is sick and pervasive.
3. We’re here.
   Half the battle before was worrying about the move itself. Well, it’s done.

Oh man, do we need to get started moving ahead. Not looking ahead any more… being there.

Ahem…

It would be nice to report that I had been working on my novel this entire time. It would be nice.

Instead, I have been busy working on a development contract that is a bit more complex than I expected (a good way of saying I did a poor job of scoping it). So I have continued to feel employed. That part’s good.

Except I now have the definite knowledge that I am not continuing to get a regular paycheck. That part is definitely hitting home and is not so good.

I am overwhelmed with thoughts of trying to find some regular code hack gig, with a dependable monetary source but that would only require a portion of my time. 

Eh, what’s that, you say? What about your dream? Don’t worry – I’m not abandoning it. I just feel the need to continue eating.  

Negative ruminations

Now that’s a heck of a title, heh? Just reaches out and slaps you across the face.

I mostly have a rosy outlook on my upcoming changes, but there are some negative thoughts pushing around the positive ones, like bullies on a school playground. Let’s see if exposing them reduces their power. (If I extended the metaphor, I guess this blog would be like the teacher blowing her whistle, making the bullies…. see, I have to stop there. On the playgrounds of my youth, the teachers told the kids being bullied to go somewhere else. As if the bullies didn’t have LEGS. Criminy. I would last one day as a teacher, since I would pull the closest bully up by his scruff and beat the living crap out of him. One day, I would last, but it would be a satisfying day.)

So, pulling the negative thoughts up by the scruffs of their skinny little necks…

• What do I know?
  This is a catchall fear: what the hell do I know? This was the thing that kept me from writing when I was young (what do I know about anything). But then, after being alive longer (and theoretically more knowledgeable about things), I look around and realize everyone else got a jump start on me. So now, I may know more about life, but still nothing about getting published.
• Who am I to think I can do this?
  Other people write, and they have spent more time writing, and they cannot get published. I admit this is why I am focusing on just writing something (attempting to get published is a different, unnamed goal). But I think the “getting published” goal is an obvious one.
• Is labeling myself a writer an excuse not to get a job?
  Ok, let’s roll up our sleeves here. I intend to do freelance work, so I will be technically self-employed. However, I do not know how successful that effort will be (I have a whole host of negative thoughts relating to that plan, but let’s put them aside for now). In fact, let’s extend this one into…
• Can I deal with moving back to smalltown without a “great” job?
  When we decided to move back home (well, a town close to home), it was with the knowledge that I had a well-paying job, and the move would help me focus on family and my personal life. Now, however, I face moving to a town with truly dismal job prospects (local grocery store cashier, anyone?), where if I can’t succeed freelancing (or as a writer, for that matter), I will be forced to rely on those job prospects. Holy crap. This is the big one. Perhaps this fear alone will be the prod forcing me to succeed.
• Has my creativity died up from lack of use?
  Oh, you think I exaggerate. I used to be creative. I used to draw, and write, and have a “good” eye. There has been too little of anything creative for a long time. When I went back home recently, my high school art teacher tried to get me to come into her class and talk about how the students can get into corporate world. I kept blowing her off, and I think one reason was because I couldn’t possibly recommend such a direction. The scene in my head would be something like: kid asks “so, how do you like your job?” Me: silent uncomfortably long, before blurting: “No, stay away! Don’t get used to the big money and the stock options!” I don’t think that was what she wanted.

So, do I feel better? I’m not sure, but I think so. Thanks for listening.

New career – take 2

Ok- time to put it on the table: I have always wanted to be a writer… for a living. I assumed I would be a writer, in fact.

It just seemed that other jobs came along instead.

I have a friend who is tackling getting published very aggressively, yet he cannot get published. So, I am very aware that getting published is a separate challenge. What I need to understand is whether or not the challenge of completing a book is a task I would enjoy.

Resolution:  I have had an idea for a mystery novel set in Dallas for quite some time. I commit to writing this before we leave for South Dakota. Not enough time, you say? Au contraire… I have been sitting on this idea for years. How much time does one actually need to get off her ass and finish something she’s started (yep, I actually have started it).

Will it be good? Who cares – that’s not the point. The point of this is to write one from beginning to end. I need to know how that actually feels.

New career – take 1

My sister and my nephew called and suggested some new career choices. They are deliberately off-the-wall.

• Weaver. This is my sister’s suggestion (apparently I remind her of someone who is a weaver). How do people make a living doing a craft? I actually like this suggestion.
• Deep-sea fisherman. This is my nephew’s suggestion (which he acknowledged has no future in the plains of South Dakota). I love this suggestion for what it says about who he thinks I am. He actually could see me doing this. How cool. I endeavor to never prove him wrong!
• Doggy daycare. This is a business I always thought would be fun, but it has no viability in a small town. I think I would have one customer. I used to think, while taking care of my senior dog, that I could start a nursing home for dogs (since I believe far too many dogs are put down while they still have some good life left). When we had to put our dog down, though, I realized how difficult such an endeavor truly would be.