Getting close to the end. Or the beginning. Depending on how you want to look at it. Both, actually. The end of one life, the beginning of another. Such as life is.
What I notice about these days is how up and down they are. Today was no exception.
It began quietly. My boss sent me my budget, a thing I rarely get these days and have zero input in. Nor does she.
I opened the document and found a distressingly small number. Unsustainably small. Which was so depressing I began to job hunt again. I contacted an old colleague and have made a lunch date. She works for a place that gives money away, something that’s always intrigued me. It’s nice to raise money but, if I can’t be a philanthropist myself, working for a foundation would be the next best thing.
I even found a job I’ll apply for. It’s a bit outside my normal thing but really….I’ve got the skill set. What the hell.
Opportunities make themselves available and I do my best to jump on them.
I need chairs and…..chairs appear! I will lose my current kitchen chairs soon. But new and better ones are on the horizon.
It’s all good.
Then, I had coffee with a mom at the elementary school who is actually doing what I tried and failed at last year: getting rid of the heinous, unethical fund raiser at the school. She is an alum of my employer, a local, but so cool with her piercings and tattoos and sci/fi fandom that it was hard not to hug her. She’s making it happen and I’m there 100% to make sure whatever needs to be done is done. Yes. It makes me happier than you can imagine and takes the edge of the feeling of how marginal I feel at work these days.
I wake up from dreams good and bad to banging in the kitchen. Noise. So much noise. Why does he need to put away the dishes at 6:30am? Why do things need to be washed – so loudly – at such an hour? Why? Why is the drawer with the Qtips always left partially open? Why? Why is the toilet never flushed? These things will all rectify themselves in a few short (long) weeks. But they grate.
And then, after my shower, if there’s not dishwashing noise, I’m expected to say good morning. How long have you known me, I want to ask? Have I ever struck you as a morning person? As a small talk person? I just want my coffee. I just want quiet. I want to make my sandwich, feed the guinea pig (something NO ONE ELSE does), get dressed, put on makeup, pee. Please for just this hour, can there not be quiet? Even the children are relatively quiet at 7:30. One’s brushing her teeth. The other’s drying her hair and putting on mascara. I do not want to talk. You’ve known me for 25 years. Have I ever wanted to have cocktail party conversations? Ever, much less in the dark kitchen of morning?
Go away. Please, go away. Leave me to my personal ups and downs. My bad office shit and my surprise new friends.
Get out of my house.