Blogging About It Makes It Official
So I’ve been hinting cryptically about job dissatisfaction for a while now. Remember my recent
obsession about my finances?
That was brought on my decision to quit my job.
Which I have done. I gave notice at the beginning of April, and agreed to stay on until the end of June, when the new person can start.
I have agonized about this decision for ages and ages, not wanting to leave my current position until I have something else lined up. But then I sojourned to
Mexico and swam in a pool in the mountains. When I returned after ten consecutive days of happiness, it became incredibly clear to me that life is too short and the work week is too long—it’s time for a change.
Beloved and insistent friends finally convinced me that it’s worth some financial sacrifice (and let me tell you, the financial implications of this are crazy scary), to stare down my professional dreams and demand that they come true. This is psychically very different from going to work everyday; letting my job slowly suck out my soul; and casting longing looks at my dreams, plaintively beckoning them towards me.
I felt extraordinarily euphoric when I gave notice, and higher-ups and coworkers have been supportive and kind. It is freeing to be honest about my plans and not have to lie about or hide my job search.
But now my days are officially numbered and panic is sneaking in. Thank God I’m teaching my online class now and in the Fall (the salary will cover six months of rent). I’m doing some consulting for a local trade association. And of course I’m actively working on landing my next full-time position, networking and applying for jobs, and now enlisting the virtual good luck and good will of the blogosphere.
Posted by Dori at 2:21 PM
Some Sources of Joy (For the Most Part)
Twix and iced coffee. Daily infusions of this sublime combination.
(OK, fattening and supportive of the evil Dunkin’ Donuts empire and $2.22 a day, but STILL I think money well spent).
Hot weather. 92 degrees out. Dresses and skirts. Sandals. Heaven.
(OK, no A/C in my house and lame A/C in my office, but STILL blissful, at least for this early in the season)
Goodness with Banter Boy. Kindness and fun. Delicious eats. Flirty emails.
(OK, his cats shed everywhere, and we have some talking/listening challenges, but relationships take effort, right?)
Teaching my enlightening and challenging online college class.
(OK, so there’s some laziness among the students, and crazy amount of work involved, but still a fantastic experience.)
My new alarm clock with its auto-timeset (it "knows" to reset itself in case of daylight savings time or power outage).
(OK, so my old one shattered after I'd had it for over 15 years, and I feel its sentimental loss, but hey, out with the old, in with the new.)
Memorial Day Weekend. Three days off. Visiting my hometown. Sleeping and eating and basking in the heat.
(Nothing more to add).
Posted by Dori at 10:54 AM
Rewards of My Work
My organization helped a lovely couple recently. They were supremely grateful. They stopped by yesterday with thank-you gifts for my co-worker and me. My co-worker got a beautiful set of Japanese serving bowls.
I got dwarves. Seven of them.
Behold:
Posted by Dori at 9:40 PM
Give Me a Hand!
So I have
carpal tunnel syndrome.
I’ve been denying it since last summer, when my right hand became strained. At the time I bought a wrist brace and wore it for a few months. The symptoms went away. More recently, I’ve noticed tingling/numbness in that hand and also my left hand.
Despite lots of research, I was unable to determine whether I should keep wearing the brace, apply heat or cold to my wrists, try to strengthen the muscles, or avoid exercise.
I finally went to the doctor yesterday, and during our 5-minute interaction (afforded me by my $401/month health insurance and $15 copayment), she pulled and prodded at my hands, diagnosed carpal tunnel, and wrote me a prescription for occupational therapy. By the time I realized that she hadn’t answered any of my questions, I’d already been banished to the waiting room.
This is a huge blow. I need to type for my livelihood (I do a lot of report and proposal writing in my job, and I am teaching an online class this summer and also again in the Fall, and I am looking for writing/research contract gigs). But it’s more than that. Writing is also my avocation; one of my favorite things to do. I love blogging, and reading and commenting on other people’s blogs, and I love email, and even love writing for its own sake.
During my lighting-round medical exam, my doctor didn’t express worry about my hands. She said the condition was in its very early stages and that OT will help. It’s all very common, treatable, etc. etc. But still.
Do me a favor. Don’t let this happen to you. Finish reading this, and then take a little break.
Stretch your hands—yeah--right now— and then put them back on the keyboard. And keep those wrists straight.
Posted by Dori at 12:11 PM
Work/Life
Jenifer just posted about the increase in her work responsibilities and how work stuff is slowly nudging its way into her personal life (crowding out longish lunches and stress-free evenings and so forth). I have always been a real stickler for work/life balance. Even though by definition my job requires lots of night and weekend work, I take ample comp time and I protect my personal life whenever possible (Publicly: “No, I’m not available to attend that evening community reception”. Privately: “Because it conflicts with longstanding girls’ night”.) Obviously I make compromises—but only when really necessary.
But I work with
people in my job, and they, not necessarily my responsibilities, crowd into my mind (and sometimes my heart) at all hours. I dream about them and toss and turn thinking about them. Sometimes because they are lovely and needy and kind, and I want to help them very badly. Sometimes because they are pushy and confrontational and I’m afraid of what they’ll do if they don’t get what they want.
I had a hybrid come in yesterday. This woman had applied for a program, spent weeks trying to prove her eligibility, and ultimately didn’t qualify because of bureaucratic standards too infuriating to describe. She was hugely disappointed and angry. Scarily and rightfully angry. And it is only the kind and conciliatory nature of our program coordinator that soothed her enough to come in and talk about other options.
I was wearing my wrist brace and she asked if I had carpal tunnel. I am pretty sure that I don’t, but my hands have been bothering me lately and I’m worried about repetitive stress injury. Too much typing. I’m seeing a doctor about it on Monday.
Turns out this woman just finished massage school. She beckoned me over to where she was sitting and massaged my hand in an act of total and unbridled kindness.
Posted by Dori at 11:53 AM
What We Wish We'd Known Back Then
So I'm teaching this online college class on women's leadership and professional development. I drastically underestimated the time it would take to prepare it. I'm assigning four books and zillions of articles. In turn,
I have to read four books and zillions of articles. And I will have to read them
carefully. Which is not my strong suit. I'm a first-class skimmer/scanner; I rarely take notes, all this underlining and bookmarking is new territory for me. Also, if I'm assigning two writing assignments and a final paper, then I will have to
read and
grade about 300 pages of student writing.
I also underestimated how hard it is to cull the subject matter. When I first started planning the class, I stared at the 10-week outline and wondered how I'd fill up each class. Now I can't decide what to leave out. I have sections on the challenges/"choices" facing working mothers, the glass ceiling, situational/transformational leadership, negotiation, networking/coaching, and communication (using emails and memos effectively, speaking clearly and without "mallspeak").
Below is the current state of affairs; not accounting for the other three books or another few chapters I haven't photocopied yet:
Planning the class has reminded me of how clueless I was when I started my career and it occurs to me that many of you might have some advice for my students.
So I put out the following question. What do you wish you had known when you were fresh-faced, newly out of college, and starting your professional life? I will pass on your comments in the course.
Posted by Dori at 8:05 AM
UpDATE #501,211
Things with Banter Boy have progressed nicely. We email multiple times a day. He knows about my history of seizures, my blog (which he's decided not to read), and my irrational fear of driving. I know comparable things about him. And despite his really aggressive love for his cats, he accepts my dislike of cat hair and has made efforts to limit my exposure to it.
Banter Boy is also exceptionally attentive and takes pride in his knowledge of our city's restaurant scene. (Sigh.) When I mentioned my love of macaroni and cheese, he took me to the area's premier supplier. When I mentioned my love of lemons and asparagus, he scoured online menus until he found one that featured both. Last weekend's meal incorporated both an
asparagus timbale and a lemon custard souffle, and is definitely among the best ever.
We have already flexed our communication muscles and discussed (at length) the extent of his Relationship Readiness (he relatively recently broke up with a girlfriend of nine years). I maintain that his heart is in smithereens, he has assured me it is not. We have also discussed (also at length) our ability to bond and transcend banter. Our interaction thus far has been completely open and lacking coyness, hard-to-get-ness, and emotional restraint.
It is only because of my sick, twisted psychosis that I've been careful and cagey about any references to any possible glimmer of a shared future. Until last week I insisted that we both continue to see other people, and I refused to tell anyone about our blossoming romance. I continue to preface everything with IWFIL (If We Fall In Love). Example: IWFIL, I'll come with you to Maine this summer. IWFIL, we'll work out a way to reconcile your love of A/C with my love of warmth and fresh air. IWFIL, we'll shave your cats so they stop shedding. (Well, maybe not the last part.)
Despite all his kindness and unmistakable affection for me, I cannot relax into the fact that this is all spectacularly lovely. I keep thinking back upon Mr. O, who showered me with attention,
gave me an iPod, and then retracted everything about a week later because he realized he wasn't over his ex (I kept the iPod, of course). That experience has made me gun shy, but this is not just about him.
This is about me and my relentlessly pessimistic psyche. She hovers around and dangles her slingback sandals, waiting to drop the second shoe.
Posted by Dori at 3:32 PM
UpDATE #501,210
I had no idea that it's been so long since my last post. Time has been flying by. In large part because I'm finally owning that I'm really into Banter Boy. After a meh second date with Mr. Psych (who asked me virtually no questions this time), I gave into my desire to do what I've wanted to do all along, which is date BB exclusively.
Basically, we met through a beloved mutual friend, and we engaged in several weeks of astonishingly clever e-banter before meeting in person.
It's very, very early, but I already have a pet name. When we first met, we discussed an episode in my life using a lion-gazelle metaphor. Soon after, BB introduced me to the springbok. This is a super cute African gazelle that I apparently resemble. Because: "springboks often go into bouts of repeated high leaps into the air in a practice known as 'pronking' ... While pronking, the springbok leaps back into the air as soon as it comes down, with its back bowed and the white fan lifted. While the exact cause of this behaviour is unknown, springboks exhibit this activity when they are nervous or otherwise excited."
Posted by Dori at 9:19 PM
UpDATE #501,209
So. Mr. PH did
not follow up. No further contact, despite the fact that he looked me straight in the eye when we parted and said "let's do this again. I know everybody says this, but I really mean it". I am not the least bit heartbroken, but I am a little surprised.
I'm concerned that he may have been put off by our peeing-inspired dialogue. Mr.PH confessed to having a small bladder (and excused himself twice during our 2-hr date). I then described how one of my co-workers pees like 80 times a day and it's so awful because we share a tiny office and one can hear the peeing, which embarrasses me to the extent that I put off my own bathroom breaks until I'm alone in the office or can't stand it anymore. Once I even walked to the public library restroom because I felt so self-conscious.
I'm seeing Mr. Psych tomorrow night. I'm most excited about Mr. Biotech, but he's on vacation this week.
Posted by Dori at 2:32 PM
