I'm kind of lovig my life right now. My job is great so far and I absolutely love my boss. He is just awesome and we pretty much just sit chat all day... yesterday, we sat around after a late lunch, just talking and drinking espresso, and when I finally went back to my desk, it was a quarter to 6! As in, I should have been gone for 45 minutes already. And I wasn't even mad about staying at work late!
It also feels really great to be in an apartment (sorry, Mom)! There's something about having my own space, and taking care of myself that makes me really happy. I've already figured out how to make sure I'm fed all the time; cook in bulk. Well, not a huge amount of food, but just enough so that there are left-overs to eat as another meal. Example: lasagna, Pizza, and.. if you butterfly two chicken breasts- you have four!
So today, I woke up in my comfy, huge bed and walked eight steps to my master bathroom to shower and get ready for work. I drove 10 miles to work, which is half the distance that I used to drive.. and sat there all day with a smile on my face. Then after work, I drove home, went for a run and then I walked to the grocery store with my "Super Independent Meal Plan" in my head. When my purchase was made, I headed back home with my groceries.
I was very pleased with myself at this point, by the way.
But, as I neared the corner, I passed a guy sitting on the sidewalk with a cardboard sign. It read, "Just trying to stay alive". I looked at the grocery bags in my hand and felt almost like I was parading them by him. I reached the corner and pushed the cross walk button, then I peaked back at the man behind me. He was just sitting there, staring at the sidewalk, a whole line of cars in front of him and nobody was paying attention.
I remembered my friend Michelle saying how she would give someone a granola bar or an apple when she passed them (she's a very healthy girl) and how I thought that was so nice. I looked down at my groceries and did a mental inventory. I can't give him my chicken breasts- maybe he has no place to cook it, I doubt he would enjoy an onion, or the mustard. I looked back at him again then back at the cross walk sign, it was still showing a big red hand. Another look at my groceries... then I found it.
I turned and headed back to the man, one hand digging in my bag. As I approached, I held the cup of yogurt out, and he looked up very slowly.. like he had been daydreaming and didn't even notice that someone had passed him by. He looked first into my eyes, and then to my hand. He wasn't very old at all, maybe thirty-something, with thick, coke-bottle glasses and slightly crossed eyes. When he looked at the yogurt... man, you should have seen his face light up. It was all I could do to hold back my tears, as his mouth broke open to a yellow, gapped grin.
I managed to say, "I don't have a spoon for you."
He replied, "It's okay, I have one at my campsite." Then, "Thank you, sweatheart."
I said, "You're welcome." Smiled, then turned away quickly. I knew that if I stayed any longer, I would break down. I hurried back to the corner, the cross walk sign said 'Walk'. I felt every eye on me from the cars that drove by, they had all been waiting at the red light while I handed the man his yogurt. I hoped that some of them might take my example some day, like I took Michelle's.
When I got home, I proceeded to cook my dinner (and ask my Mom some cooking questions)... and the whole time, I debated blogging about this. I thought that it would just come out as bragging, and a good deed, isn't good if it's done for yourself. I'm still not sure why I decided to post about this. All I know, is that for all the things that have made me happy recently, a cup of yogurt could have NEVER made my eyes brighten up as it just did for that man.
... just food for thought.
Tuesday, August 10, 2010
Wednesday, August 4, 2010
That's Fancy...
Tuesday was strange. It was my last day working for Scary Lady, and as I walked in, I couldn’t really tell what my feelings were about it. Part of me was excited to be free of it all, while the other part of me was a little sad to be leaving (and I think this speaks more to the fact that I had spent most of my life there for the past three years, than it does to actually missing the place). I was definitely scared to be joining the ranks of the unemployed, and yet I was still a little excited to have some time off.
Mostly I was just glad that I wouldn’t have to deal with any of this anymore- no more laying across coworker #1’s desk to use the phone, no more damn wicker chair, and no more tiptoeing past my boss thinking that she wouldn’t see me if I was quite, and therefore, wouldn’t scream at me. I was pleased that boss-lady had apologized for being a total psycho towards me for the past few months, and even more pleased that she was super nice to me since she laid me off. Overall, I think the positives about no longer working at this place were outweighing the negative and I actually started to get a little giddy as the day went on. So, I kept mostly to myself so as not to offend my coworkers, or Cruela, with my hyper-cheerfulness.
I did a pretty good job of this, until Croomie trespassed into my solitude, “A friend of mine says there is a job opening at Fancy Tile showroom. I’m sending you her email so you can forward your resume. She knows the guy who is hiring so she can get it directly to him.” I shrugged, and said sure. When I got the email, I attached my resume and sent it along, saying thanks for the heads up.
A couple hours later I got a phone call along with a voicemail. I stepped outside to listen to the message. His name was Perry, he was from Fancy Tile and he wanted me to call him regarding my resume.
So I called him back.
Perry wanted to know when I could come into the showroom to meet. I told him that I was leaving tomorrow for the weekend, to climb Mt. Whitney, but I would be back next week, and he can tell me which day would work best for him. He said to call him when I got back into town, “and hopefully we haven’t found somebody to fill the position by then.”
Damn! So I asked him what time they opened in the morning.
I went back to work and at about 4:30pm, Craziness said, “We want to take you out for a drink on your last day”. So, I packed up all my stuff and we headed out to happy hour. We all had a pretty nice time and, as we were saying our goodbyes, Crazy gave me a hug… and started crying. It was awkward. She said that she was really going to miss me and all my hard work and that she was sorry, again, for having to let me go.
I had confused thoughts about Crazy-Lady all the way to may parents’ house, but was eventually able to shake them off and get to work on my portfolio. I was up until 1am, and only slept until my alarm went off at 5am- when I promptly got up, and went to Kinko’s to print my portfolio. I sped back to my parents’ house and gathered everything that I needed for the weekend hike and threw it all in my trunk. I was still sort of ‘in between homes’ and had some clothes at my parents’ place and some at the apartment.
I raced back to my apartment to shower, get dressed and pack the rest of my hiking gear. I shoved all my prints into a nicely bound binder, before heading to the interview, and arrived with 5 minutes to spare.
An hour and a half later (after a pretty rock-solid interview) I was flying back to the apartment to throw on some jeans and a T-shirt. I put on the first T-shirt that I found, which happened to be a FCUK shirt, French Connection U.K, and then grabbed all my bags and lugged them down the three flights of stairs to my car. I unlocked the driver’s side door, threw my purse in and then ran back to unlock the trunk and stuff it full of hiking bags. About two seconds after slamming my trunk, I realized that I had no keys in my hand for which to start the car… ugh, trunk! After climbing through the backseat, pointing my ass to traffic, and moving bags around for a good four minutes, I finally retrieved the keys.
When I arrived at Boyfriend’s house, I could tell that he was a little irritated that I was late, and I was irritated that he was irritated, which lead to a slightly dramatic unloading of my trunk. But we were both fine once we hit the road for the 5 ½ hours it takes to get to Lone Pine.
We arrived at our campsite, as did our friends shortly after, and we all started setting up camp. It was when we began unloading the bags that I realized something was missing. “Where’s my green bag?”
Boyfriend replied, “What green bag?”
Great.
When I told him that I couldn’t find the bag that contained ALL my clothes for the whole weekend, he just laughed. Thanks, Boyfriend. I racked my brain trying to figure out where it might be, if it wasn’t here. I remembered dragging it down the stairs, because it was heavy and I thought I was going to pass out on the way… I remember taking it off my shoulder to put in the trunk…
Then I remembered: when I was climbing through my car, like a confused mole rat, to get the keys out of the trunk, I moved the bag out of the way. I told Boyfriend that I must have moved it behind something, that didn’t go with me on the trip, and then didn’t see it when I was unloading.
Boyfriend said, “Aww, haha! I can’t believe you forgot your bag!”
I glared back, “Well, it’s your fault! If you hadn’t been so irritated with me for being a few minutes late, I would have taken my time getting stuff out of my trunk!”
He laughed harder, “Wait. It’s my fault now? Hang on, I gotta get this documented!” He pulled out his camera and pointed it at me, “Okay, it’s rolling… so, repeat that last thing you just said about who’s fault it is that your bag got left in your trunk!”
So I did.
Aside from having to wear my FCUK shirt around everywhere, and getting stared at, the rest of the week went pretty well. I was able to borrow enough clothes and make a few small purchases, to get all necessary hiking gear. And let me just say, anyone who is healthy and fit enough to hike Mt. Whitney better do it. It is the most incredible experience I’ve ever had. The mountain is just gorgeous and there’s something sort of magical when you realize that you’ve accomplished something that very few people can. For once in a LONG time, I was able to forget my work-related dramas.
The ‘high’ lasted all the way home, and all the next day. When Monday rolled around, I called Perry from Fancy Tile, as he requested. I don’t remember everything that was said in that conversation, nor do I remember the one right after- but the one part that stuck out to me was, “When can you start?”
Yeeahhh, bitches!
I am now the newest employee of Fancy Tile Showroom. And although my first day (today) wasn’t too exciting or eventful, I am confident that it will be one day. Things always start slow as you’re learning, and there is a lot to learn, but they hired me for my design background. They want someone who can potentially help a client with every aspect of their home, because they want to explore different avenues- like lighting, wood flooring, cabinetry. I may not be designing anything right away, but the potential is there.
Plus, I already feel a million times more important than I did with Psycho-Pants. Perry needs me there, and eventually, expects me to be able to take care of things on my own. Design on my own, if the client wants… recommend an area rug if that’s something they need.
Look, first and foremost, I will be a sales-person for Fancy Tile and Perry’s right hand. I don’t know if this will work for me in the long-run, or if I will even like it… but it seems promising, they need me, I’m no longer a ‘design assistant’ like I was before (that position just left a bad taste in my mouth) and….. I GET A MOTHER-F*CKING DESK!
Mostly I was just glad that I wouldn’t have to deal with any of this anymore- no more laying across coworker #1’s desk to use the phone, no more damn wicker chair, and no more tiptoeing past my boss thinking that she wouldn’t see me if I was quite, and therefore, wouldn’t scream at me. I was pleased that boss-lady had apologized for being a total psycho towards me for the past few months, and even more pleased that she was super nice to me since she laid me off. Overall, I think the positives about no longer working at this place were outweighing the negative and I actually started to get a little giddy as the day went on. So, I kept mostly to myself so as not to offend my coworkers, or Cruela, with my hyper-cheerfulness.
I did a pretty good job of this, until Croomie trespassed into my solitude, “A friend of mine says there is a job opening at Fancy Tile showroom. I’m sending you her email so you can forward your resume. She knows the guy who is hiring so she can get it directly to him.” I shrugged, and said sure. When I got the email, I attached my resume and sent it along, saying thanks for the heads up.
A couple hours later I got a phone call along with a voicemail. I stepped outside to listen to the message. His name was Perry, he was from Fancy Tile and he wanted me to call him regarding my resume.
So I called him back.
Perry wanted to know when I could come into the showroom to meet. I told him that I was leaving tomorrow for the weekend, to climb Mt. Whitney, but I would be back next week, and he can tell me which day would work best for him. He said to call him when I got back into town, “and hopefully we haven’t found somebody to fill the position by then.”
Damn! So I asked him what time they opened in the morning.
I went back to work and at about 4:30pm, Craziness said, “We want to take you out for a drink on your last day”. So, I packed up all my stuff and we headed out to happy hour. We all had a pretty nice time and, as we were saying our goodbyes, Crazy gave me a hug… and started crying. It was awkward. She said that she was really going to miss me and all my hard work and that she was sorry, again, for having to let me go.
I had confused thoughts about Crazy-Lady all the way to may parents’ house, but was eventually able to shake them off and get to work on my portfolio. I was up until 1am, and only slept until my alarm went off at 5am- when I promptly got up, and went to Kinko’s to print my portfolio. I sped back to my parents’ house and gathered everything that I needed for the weekend hike and threw it all in my trunk. I was still sort of ‘in between homes’ and had some clothes at my parents’ place and some at the apartment.
I raced back to my apartment to shower, get dressed and pack the rest of my hiking gear. I shoved all my prints into a nicely bound binder, before heading to the interview, and arrived with 5 minutes to spare.
An hour and a half later (after a pretty rock-solid interview) I was flying back to the apartment to throw on some jeans and a T-shirt. I put on the first T-shirt that I found, which happened to be a FCUK shirt, French Connection U.K, and then grabbed all my bags and lugged them down the three flights of stairs to my car. I unlocked the driver’s side door, threw my purse in and then ran back to unlock the trunk and stuff it full of hiking bags. About two seconds after slamming my trunk, I realized that I had no keys in my hand for which to start the car… ugh, trunk! After climbing through the backseat, pointing my ass to traffic, and moving bags around for a good four minutes, I finally retrieved the keys.
When I arrived at Boyfriend’s house, I could tell that he was a little irritated that I was late, and I was irritated that he was irritated, which lead to a slightly dramatic unloading of my trunk. But we were both fine once we hit the road for the 5 ½ hours it takes to get to Lone Pine.
We arrived at our campsite, as did our friends shortly after, and we all started setting up camp. It was when we began unloading the bags that I realized something was missing. “Where’s my green bag?”
Boyfriend replied, “What green bag?”
Great.
When I told him that I couldn’t find the bag that contained ALL my clothes for the whole weekend, he just laughed. Thanks, Boyfriend. I racked my brain trying to figure out where it might be, if it wasn’t here. I remembered dragging it down the stairs, because it was heavy and I thought I was going to pass out on the way… I remember taking it off my shoulder to put in the trunk…
Then I remembered: when I was climbing through my car, like a confused mole rat, to get the keys out of the trunk, I moved the bag out of the way. I told Boyfriend that I must have moved it behind something, that didn’t go with me on the trip, and then didn’t see it when I was unloading.
Boyfriend said, “Aww, haha! I can’t believe you forgot your bag!”
I glared back, “Well, it’s your fault! If you hadn’t been so irritated with me for being a few minutes late, I would have taken my time getting stuff out of my trunk!”
He laughed harder, “Wait. It’s my fault now? Hang on, I gotta get this documented!” He pulled out his camera and pointed it at me, “Okay, it’s rolling… so, repeat that last thing you just said about who’s fault it is that your bag got left in your trunk!”
So I did.
Aside from having to wear my FCUK shirt around everywhere, and getting stared at, the rest of the week went pretty well. I was able to borrow enough clothes and make a few small purchases, to get all necessary hiking gear. And let me just say, anyone who is healthy and fit enough to hike Mt. Whitney better do it. It is the most incredible experience I’ve ever had. The mountain is just gorgeous and there’s something sort of magical when you realize that you’ve accomplished something that very few people can. For once in a LONG time, I was able to forget my work-related dramas.
The ‘high’ lasted all the way home, and all the next day. When Monday rolled around, I called Perry from Fancy Tile, as he requested. I don’t remember everything that was said in that conversation, nor do I remember the one right after- but the one part that stuck out to me was, “When can you start?”
Yeeahhh, bitches!
I am now the newest employee of Fancy Tile Showroom. And although my first day (today) wasn’t too exciting or eventful, I am confident that it will be one day. Things always start slow as you’re learning, and there is a lot to learn, but they hired me for my design background. They want someone who can potentially help a client with every aspect of their home, because they want to explore different avenues- like lighting, wood flooring, cabinetry. I may not be designing anything right away, but the potential is there.
Plus, I already feel a million times more important than I did with Psycho-Pants. Perry needs me there, and eventually, expects me to be able to take care of things on my own. Design on my own, if the client wants… recommend an area rug if that’s something they need.
Look, first and foremost, I will be a sales-person for Fancy Tile and Perry’s right hand. I don’t know if this will work for me in the long-run, or if I will even like it… but it seems promising, they need me, I’m no longer a ‘design assistant’ like I was before (that position just left a bad taste in my mouth) and….. I GET A MOTHER-F*CKING DESK!
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