I really don't know what to say here, I just need to vent a little bit... or organize.. or drain.
I'm injured. I have been since a car accident over two years ago. It's not completely debilitating, but I am in pain pretty much throughout the day. Last Monday I got a recommendation from my doctor for a pretty serious surgery. It's a lot to think about and I'm trying not to do any thinking about it, until after the holidays.
Fat chance. I think about it everyday.
On top of that- I may be getting a job offer from the designers down the street. Maybe. I have a super secret meeting with them tonight after work. This may cause some problems with Perry, because they are clients and 'friends' of Perry and this showroom. Since the designers have mentioned having this conversation, I have gone through a range of thoughts about the potential job.
Sometimes I feel really bad and I can't imagine telling Perry that I am leaving. I think of how upset and hurt he may be. Not to mention what the ownership's response might be... I think it would come as a shock to them all. I wonder if there is a way I can slyly sneak out by combining it with the days out for surgery? Somehow make it seem like it's not as bad as it sounds.
But then on days like today, when Perry does something ass-hole-ish, I can't wait to leave. I have even thought about making sure he knows every time I'm pissed off at him, so that he may understand part of the reason I am leaving.
I know, that sounds too mean.
Tuesday, December 13, 2011
Monday, December 5, 2011
"Hey, ladies..." - Tucker (updated 12/7/11)
Meet my new addition, Tucker:
I've been wanting a kitten, so what the hell. My life's changing anyway, right? Boyfriend is not exactly thrilled, but he's being a good sport. I'm sure he will love Tucker when he meets him, though. How can you not love a little guy that chews on walls and chases chair legs?
Last night, he thought my eyelid was a toy... because it was moving.
Update 12/7/2011
I've realized after watching Tucker for the last couple days, that he lives his life in a series of 'Versus'. For example:
Tucker VS. Ball
Tucker VS. Shoe
Tucker VS. Tail
Tucker VS. Wall
Tucker VS. Kitty Litter (and subsequently, anything that might be in the litter box)
Tucker VS. Air
(There's also a "Tucker Smash!" that Broomie and I made up yesterday. This refers to when Tucker chases your feet and/or nothing, then either gets kicked, tripped over and/or smashes right into whatever large object was in the way of his projected route)
This might be because he is a kitten and wants to play with everything. But I'm wondering if there's some life lesson in here for me. Like maybe I need to take my life more as a series of 'versus', too. Break things down a little bit, rather than freaking out about everything all at once.
So, right now, it's Pluck VS. Wednesday... and Pluck VS. Step One of Neck Injury Resolution.
Monday, November 21, 2011
Shiny new fork in the road
I never thought that I would be happy about leaving the Delmartment. But I am.
I never thought I would enjoy having all my possessions packed in unmarked boxes and strewn about a new apartment. But I do.
I can't find anything I need, I'm constantly running from one box to the other and my brother often sits in his room and watches me go back and forth in front of his door. One way, empty-handed, then back the other way with a table lamp. Pass by again, then back with my plant. He laughed when I held his old roommates toilet brush with the tips of my fingers as I ran to the trash can.
I like this moment. I can feel that this is the beginning of another chapter in my life. I'll be making a life-changing decision after the holidays and I'm ready for it.
I never thought I would enjoy having all my possessions packed in unmarked boxes and strewn about a new apartment. But I do.
I can't find anything I need, I'm constantly running from one box to the other and my brother often sits in his room and watches me go back and forth in front of his door. One way, empty-handed, then back the other way with a table lamp. Pass by again, then back with my plant. He laughed when I held his old roommates toilet brush with the tips of my fingers as I ran to the trash can.
I like this moment. I can feel that this is the beginning of another chapter in my life. I'll be making a life-changing decision after the holidays and I'm ready for it.
Monday, November 14, 2011
The Elite
There exists an untouchable world, in which everyone who resides is elite. This mystical place is visible to outsiders, yet it fizzles away like a hallucination just as one thinks they are close enough to touch the glittery gates. An average person can see from the outside that the citizens of this other world are magnificent. Fabrics of the finest spun silks, swirl around them like smoke; engulfing their chambers and thrones in smooth fibers. When they walk around us, they seem to float, never lowering their heads even to take a step as the crowds part for them. They are artists, and perfect combinations of colors melt off the pens they hold in their hands, their vision is reality.
Jealousy, envy and awe follow in their path and eager young scholars strive to be like them. Yet hard work and desire alone won't get one entrance into this transcendental universe... you must stumble upon an unmarked path, be blessed with a latent sense of direction and above all; accepted by a resident. Only those who dwell in this world, can bring in another.
Those who dwell here are called interior designers... and I wanted to be one.
I didn't collide with any hidden path. I mapped courses out on a form with a college counselor, then shriveled into the corners of my classes. While I scratched the basics of design onto project boards, my peers performed alchemy on paper. Hot drops of embarrassment and failure ran down my cheeks at presentation time and it wasn't until my final two years that I finally felt proud of my work.
My blind groping continued when I became an intern for a designer, who was short an assistant. Somehow, I held the job longer than both the designer and myself expected. And with the entire planet watching their investments crumble, the designer became frustrated at her own charity and turned my days into hell. She refused to bring me into the design world, and flung me towards the hordes of the unemployed.
I was blessed, not with an innate design sight, but with a job. It was my belief then, that I didn't need to be guided into the design world. I thought I could just walk right in, and I was wrong.
The truth is sharp, yet it has numbed me. I look at a beautiful room, full of inspiration and I feel nothing. I can appreciate the nuances of a well-designed space; the hidden treasures and the bold focal points, yet I'm cold towards it. Nobody tells you that to try and walk through the boundaries of this esoteric world, will leave you beaten.
My choices now are to either take leave and search out another, more accepting, universe or stand up and try again the right way. But having seen design from the bottom, I'm unsure if I even want to be up there anymore.
Jealousy, envy and awe follow in their path and eager young scholars strive to be like them. Yet hard work and desire alone won't get one entrance into this transcendental universe... you must stumble upon an unmarked path, be blessed with a latent sense of direction and above all; accepted by a resident. Only those who dwell in this world, can bring in another.
Those who dwell here are called interior designers... and I wanted to be one.
I didn't collide with any hidden path. I mapped courses out on a form with a college counselor, then shriveled into the corners of my classes. While I scratched the basics of design onto project boards, my peers performed alchemy on paper. Hot drops of embarrassment and failure ran down my cheeks at presentation time and it wasn't until my final two years that I finally felt proud of my work.
My blind groping continued when I became an intern for a designer, who was short an assistant. Somehow, I held the job longer than both the designer and myself expected. And with the entire planet watching their investments crumble, the designer became frustrated at her own charity and turned my days into hell. She refused to bring me into the design world, and flung me towards the hordes of the unemployed.
I was blessed, not with an innate design sight, but with a job. It was my belief then, that I didn't need to be guided into the design world. I thought I could just walk right in, and I was wrong.
The truth is sharp, yet it has numbed me. I look at a beautiful room, full of inspiration and I feel nothing. I can appreciate the nuances of a well-designed space; the hidden treasures and the bold focal points, yet I'm cold towards it. Nobody tells you that to try and walk through the boundaries of this esoteric world, will leave you beaten.
My choices now are to either take leave and search out another, more accepting, universe or stand up and try again the right way. But having seen design from the bottom, I'm unsure if I even want to be up there anymore.
Wednesday, November 9, 2011
Carmen can't breathe
Or is it me that's suffocating?
Last week, I found the perfect job on a Craigslist post. It's a 'Carmen list' job, too: Freelance journalist for an interior design/architecture magazine. The ideal candidate would need to have contacts in the industry and be able to find new and/or interesting projects to do stories about every month. Holy, Up-My-Alley, Batman!
I applied as soon as I could, but I realized that the post had already been deleted from Craigslist. I was only able to send my resume because I had emailed myself the address. I'm not even sure it went through... it's been 3 days and I haven't heard anything yet. I keep checking to see if the position has been re-posted, but it hasn't.
Somebody else has my job.
Oh, and the designer down the street asked if I would intern for him. However, it's an unpaid position and I'm barely getting by as it is, working 40 hrs/week with pay. I think he knew this because of the look he gave me. He followed up with, "You want out of here, huh?"
Where's 'here'?
I don't even know what to say anymore.
Last week, I found the perfect job on a Craigslist post. It's a 'Carmen list' job, too: Freelance journalist for an interior design/architecture magazine. The ideal candidate would need to have contacts in the industry and be able to find new and/or interesting projects to do stories about every month. Holy, Up-My-Alley, Batman!
I applied as soon as I could, but I realized that the post had already been deleted from Craigslist. I was only able to send my resume because I had emailed myself the address. I'm not even sure it went through... it's been 3 days and I haven't heard anything yet. I keep checking to see if the position has been re-posted, but it hasn't.
Somebody else has my job.
Oh, and the designer down the street asked if I would intern for him. However, it's an unpaid position and I'm barely getting by as it is, working 40 hrs/week with pay. I think he knew this because of the look he gave me. He followed up with, "You want out of here, huh?"
Where's 'here'?
I don't even know what to say anymore.
Tuesday, October 18, 2011
RE: Carmen
I got an email today from a friend that mirrored my own recent career frustrations. He and I wrote breifly about feeling "blah" and "questioning the point of your existence". We both have a feeling that we should be doing more with our lives, than just working to work.
I know I'm not currently leaving a dent in the world. My days are so robotic and I feel as though there is no meaning behind them. I could do, and be, so much more.
I'm not regretting anything, nor am I complaining about being employed at this company. I'm simply questioning where my next step should be. Which direction I should go, and what I am truly meant to be doing on this Earth.
I have been meaning to write a list of everything that moves me, all my passions, and then see what connections I can make between them. I might have to create a career, rather than following a path that was created before me.
I emailed this thought to my friend who told me that he expects a list from me tomorrow, and he will share his own. So, here's my list:
Art: Painting and crafting
Animal rescues and animal charity
Design (though my interest in this has faded a lot recently)
Furniture and furniture refinishing
Antiques
Writing
Reading
Organic farming
Gardening
Cooking
One thing that I have seriously considered (and even kind of started) is painting for charity. Like a certain percentage of the proceeds would go to charities, like breast cancer and animal welfare. The only thing I have done to start this is gathered a couple images and ideas to put onto canvas… I haven’t actually put anything down yet, for lack of time.
I would also love to write a book. I have no idea what I would write about, because I don’t have an interesting story in mind. I think that’s why I started my blog, because I figured that I would be writing about my own journey… but it’s no New York Times Best Seller … yet.
I used to think that I could make a living refinishing furniture and restoring or selling antiques. But the refinishing thing proved to be time-consuming and you kind of have to do it right, in a workshop, in order to get a quality product. Also dealing antiques implies that you have knowledge of old things. All I know is that they smell really weird and they look cool.
Furniture design was one thing I thought I wanted to do, too. I even started sketching, but I’d have to actually build it or find somebody who would build it for me. I don’t have any founds to buy material or machinery to do this.
You know those little flower shops? Not the stands, but the small shops? I think it would be cool to own one of those too. But I am not sure how passionate I am about that.
So, we'll see what I can come up with from this list. Maybe I'll think of something awesome if I keep brain-storming. Oh, and our email thread has a subject line of 'Carmen' because I was inquiring about a specific tile called Carmen, before we branched off into questioning the purpose of life... for some reason, I just think this is interesting.
I know I'm not currently leaving a dent in the world. My days are so robotic and I feel as though there is no meaning behind them. I could do, and be, so much more.
I'm not regretting anything, nor am I complaining about being employed at this company. I'm simply questioning where my next step should be. Which direction I should go, and what I am truly meant to be doing on this Earth.
I have been meaning to write a list of everything that moves me, all my passions, and then see what connections I can make between them. I might have to create a career, rather than following a path that was created before me.
I emailed this thought to my friend who told me that he expects a list from me tomorrow, and he will share his own. So, here's my list:
Art: Painting and crafting
Animal rescues and animal charity
Design (though my interest in this has faded a lot recently)
Furniture and furniture refinishing
Antiques
Writing
Reading
Organic farming
Gardening
Cooking
One thing that I have seriously considered (and even kind of started) is painting for charity. Like a certain percentage of the proceeds would go to charities, like breast cancer and animal welfare. The only thing I have done to start this is gathered a couple images and ideas to put onto canvas… I haven’t actually put anything down yet, for lack of time.
I would also love to write a book. I have no idea what I would write about, because I don’t have an interesting story in mind. I think that’s why I started my blog, because I figured that I would be writing about my own journey… but it’s no New York Times Best Seller … yet.
I used to think that I could make a living refinishing furniture and restoring or selling antiques. But the refinishing thing proved to be time-consuming and you kind of have to do it right, in a workshop, in order to get a quality product. Also dealing antiques implies that you have knowledge of old things. All I know is that they smell really weird and they look cool.
Furniture design was one thing I thought I wanted to do, too. I even started sketching, but I’d have to actually build it or find somebody who would build it for me. I don’t have any founds to buy material or machinery to do this.
You know those little flower shops? Not the stands, but the small shops? I think it would be cool to own one of those too. But I am not sure how passionate I am about that.
So, we'll see what I can come up with from this list. Maybe I'll think of something awesome if I keep brain-storming. Oh, and our email thread has a subject line of 'Carmen' because I was inquiring about a specific tile called Carmen, before we branched off into questioning the purpose of life... for some reason, I just think this is interesting.
Thursday, October 13, 2011
Broomie it is, update to post from 9/27
So, it takes a special person to appreciate my awkward ways... which was going to make finding a new roommate especially difficult. The friend I was hoping to live with hasn't found a job and with my Brother not able to give me a definite answer, I was forced to post the following classified online:
------------------------------
Female roommate needed to share my two bedroom, two bath apartment (I have the master bedroom).
My current roommate is moving out at the end of November to live with her boyfriend.Rent is super inexpensive, $660.00 NOT including cable and electricity.
The apartment is West of the 5, just off the freeway and there's a Vons right across the street.There is a washer and dryer in the unit, but don't be fooled... it doesn't work. But there is on-site laundry! There is one parking spot, which would be yours. The landlord did not provide a remote to get into the parking lot, my current roomie was going to take care of this, but she never did. Obviously, we can get one easily, it's not a big deal, just thought you should know.
I work full time and spend a lot of nights at my boyfriend's house, so you would have a lot of space away from me. Though, I'm pretty cool so you might be sad when I'm gone. I am really clean though, I don't leave messes and I wash my dishes, sweep, dust and all that jazz.
If you have a pet, they are welcome. Unless your cat is an ass and/or unnaturally loud, or your dog craps all over the place. There is a weight limit on the pets in the complex, I think it's like ten or fifteen pounds. So, a Golden Retreiver is probably not a good idea, unless they are super quiet and you make friends with the neighbors... I'm partial to cats, but I don't have one. My boyfriend says that I'm not allowed to get one. I'm rambling.
Let me know if you have any questions.
----------------------------------------------
I wasn't sure if anyone was actually going to respond, but I figured that if anyone did, they would probably be perfect for me.
Within an hour (yes, only an hour) I got an email. She was perfect! I could tell that she had a great sense of humor and an actual personality- sorry Croomie. So after a few email exchanges I was excited to have her come look at the apartment.
I tried to get Croomie's schedule for the next few days, figuring it would be weird to have someone looking at the place while she's there, but she wouldn't give me anything to work with. She was pretty short and annoying about all of it. Obviously she didn't want to move out, and would rather I just get lost- but she gave me the option of staying or going fromt he beginning.
The next morning, I woke to 3 text messages from my Brother:
"I think I need you as a roommate afterall."
"You can have the master bedroom"
"Also, I have a juicer."
The juicer was a plus, but he didn't need that to sell me on the idea; my brother needs me, so Broomie it is. I just had to wait for his 100% confirmation, then break the sad news to "The-Possibly-Perfect-Future-Roomie"...
Bummer. It could have been love.
And now I have to move all my shit out. Damn!
*UPDATE 10/14/11
I am starting to get sad about leaving the Delmartment, so I'm going to make a huge Cons list to make myself feel better:
1. Croomie and Stupid take up the living room all the time. Forcing me to sit in my bedroom with the door closed.
2. Croomie's cat. Not nice.
3. It's always hot in there, and Croomie won't leave the windows open.
4. I think the refrigerator is on the fritz.
5. The landlord really sucks!
6. Sometimes it takes me 3-5 minutes to walk to my car, because I had to park down the street.
7. Loud neighbors that I yell at for singing and/or drinking on the street outside my window.
8. Bees die there.
9. My toilet runs non-stop.
10. The washer and dryer in the unit is a big, fat tease.
------------------------------
Female roommate needed to share my two bedroom, two bath apartment (I have the master bedroom).
My current roommate is moving out at the end of November to live with her boyfriend.Rent is super inexpensive, $660.00 NOT including cable and electricity.
The apartment is West of the 5, just off the freeway and there's a Vons right across the street.There is a washer and dryer in the unit, but don't be fooled... it doesn't work. But there is on-site laundry! There is one parking spot, which would be yours. The landlord did not provide a remote to get into the parking lot, my current roomie was going to take care of this, but she never did. Obviously, we can get one easily, it's not a big deal, just thought you should know.
I work full time and spend a lot of nights at my boyfriend's house, so you would have a lot of space away from me. Though, I'm pretty cool so you might be sad when I'm gone. I am really clean though, I don't leave messes and I wash my dishes, sweep, dust and all that jazz.
If you have a pet, they are welcome. Unless your cat is an ass and/or unnaturally loud, or your dog craps all over the place. There is a weight limit on the pets in the complex, I think it's like ten or fifteen pounds. So, a Golden Retreiver is probably not a good idea, unless they are super quiet and you make friends with the neighbors... I'm partial to cats, but I don't have one. My boyfriend says that I'm not allowed to get one. I'm rambling.
Let me know if you have any questions.
----------------------------------------------
I wasn't sure if anyone was actually going to respond, but I figured that if anyone did, they would probably be perfect for me.
Within an hour (yes, only an hour) I got an email. She was perfect! I could tell that she had a great sense of humor and an actual personality- sorry Croomie. So after a few email exchanges I was excited to have her come look at the apartment.
I tried to get Croomie's schedule for the next few days, figuring it would be weird to have someone looking at the place while she's there, but she wouldn't give me anything to work with. She was pretty short and annoying about all of it. Obviously she didn't want to move out, and would rather I just get lost- but she gave me the option of staying or going fromt he beginning.
The next morning, I woke to 3 text messages from my Brother:
"I think I need you as a roommate afterall."
"You can have the master bedroom"
"Also, I have a juicer."
The juicer was a plus, but he didn't need that to sell me on the idea; my brother needs me, so Broomie it is. I just had to wait for his 100% confirmation, then break the sad news to "The-Possibly-Perfect-Future-Roomie"...
Bummer. It could have been love.
And now I have to move all my shit out. Damn!
*UPDATE 10/14/11
I am starting to get sad about leaving the Delmartment, so I'm going to make a huge Cons list to make myself feel better:
1. Croomie and Stupid take up the living room all the time. Forcing me to sit in my bedroom with the door closed.
2. Croomie's cat. Not nice.
3. It's always hot in there, and Croomie won't leave the windows open.
4. I think the refrigerator is on the fritz.
5. The landlord really sucks!
6. Sometimes it takes me 3-5 minutes to walk to my car, because I had to park down the street.
7. Loud neighbors that I yell at for singing and/or drinking on the street outside my window.
8. Bees die there.
9. My toilet runs non-stop.
10. The washer and dryer in the unit is a big, fat tease.
Thursday, September 29, 2011
Sweetie
Yesterday, Perry and I were both cranky. I'll admit, I think I started it. I'm PMS-ing, slightly, and I think my responses were a bit too short... maybe I didn't smile enough. But Perry's responses to me were rude, angry and repetative. I couldn't wait to get out of here yesterday and I just hoped that today would be better. I was going into work today with a better attitude.
But then this happened:
Just a few minutes ago, I showed Perry an invoice that I wrote for one of our sales guys, and he commented on the fact that the client will be picking the material up. He said that it was never a good idea to send the client to our suppliers directly, this material should just be delivered, that's so stupid... on and on. I finally said, "Okay, Perry. Talk to our sales guy about it, I just wrote what he wanted me to write."
Perry responded with, "Well the invoice can't be changed now, Sweetie."
Oh good lord. He has no idea how close he came to getting the female fury. I calmly said, "Don't call me Sweetie." Then I got up and walked back down to my desk, leaving him alone at the table. Of course, once I got back to my desk I started to feel bad for my reaction. He was joking with the "Sweetie" thing and I got pissed... he was just trying to inform me of the right thing to do with the clients receiving material, and I got irritated. Damn my stupid compassionate side!
Since, I had a fax that needed to be sent, I walked back up there with a smile on my face, hoping to erase our last exchange. When I made it to the fax machine, Perry was walking towards his desk with a piece of stone in his hand. He was complaining about how the company who sent it, didn't mark the back. I mirrored his feelings and agreed that the name of the stone should be written on the back of the sample. Yay, we're agreeing on something.
He took a marker out of his desk drawer and, without a word, handed the marker and sample to me, sat back in his chair with his hands behind his head... and just stared at his computer screen.... You know what I heard in my head?... "Here, Sweetie, go ahead and mark this for me."
For fear of bashing him in the head with the stone, I slowly set the objects down next to the fax machine. I turned and walked softly back to my desk, slipped down in my chair and sat with papers in front of me, hands pressed to the cold granite desk top.
Just seconds later he headed out the door to an appointment. I released my palms, stood and walked back up to the fax machine, took a deep breath, picked up the marker... and chucked it at his empty chair. Then picked it up and threw it again. Damn. Piece of shit. Marker. Chair. DAMMIT!
I took another deep breath and wrote the name on the back of the sample.
I am now wondering how I'm going to get through the rest of the day. It's a good thing he's gone right now, I can only hope that he comes back late and stays out of my way... this would all be much easier if I had some work to do.
But then this happened:
Just a few minutes ago, I showed Perry an invoice that I wrote for one of our sales guys, and he commented on the fact that the client will be picking the material up. He said that it was never a good idea to send the client to our suppliers directly, this material should just be delivered, that's so stupid... on and on. I finally said, "Okay, Perry. Talk to our sales guy about it, I just wrote what he wanted me to write."
Perry responded with, "Well the invoice can't be changed now, Sweetie."
Oh good lord. He has no idea how close he came to getting the female fury. I calmly said, "Don't call me Sweetie." Then I got up and walked back down to my desk, leaving him alone at the table. Of course, once I got back to my desk I started to feel bad for my reaction. He was joking with the "Sweetie" thing and I got pissed... he was just trying to inform me of the right thing to do with the clients receiving material, and I got irritated. Damn my stupid compassionate side!
Since, I had a fax that needed to be sent, I walked back up there with a smile on my face, hoping to erase our last exchange. When I made it to the fax machine, Perry was walking towards his desk with a piece of stone in his hand. He was complaining about how the company who sent it, didn't mark the back. I mirrored his feelings and agreed that the name of the stone should be written on the back of the sample. Yay, we're agreeing on something.
He took a marker out of his desk drawer and, without a word, handed the marker and sample to me, sat back in his chair with his hands behind his head... and just stared at his computer screen.... You know what I heard in my head?... "Here, Sweetie, go ahead and mark this for me."
For fear of bashing him in the head with the stone, I slowly set the objects down next to the fax machine. I turned and walked softly back to my desk, slipped down in my chair and sat with papers in front of me, hands pressed to the cold granite desk top.
Just seconds later he headed out the door to an appointment. I released my palms, stood and walked back up to the fax machine, took a deep breath, picked up the marker... and chucked it at his empty chair. Then picked it up and threw it again. Damn. Piece of shit. Marker. Chair. DAMMIT!
I took another deep breath and wrote the name on the back of the sample.
I am now wondering how I'm going to get through the rest of the day. It's a good thing he's gone right now, I can only hope that he comes back late and stays out of my way... this would all be much easier if I had some work to do.
Tuesday, September 27, 2011
Croomie situation
Croomie told me yesterday that she is going to move in with her boyfriend at the end of November (I like to call her boyfriend, "Stupid"). She will let me keep the apartment, if I would like to, and if not, then Stupid will take over my part of the lease.
As a side note, I have no idea what Croomie sees in her boyfriend... I can hardly stand him and I wondered for a long time if he was actually that dumb. Then I heard from Old Co-worker #1 that Stupid got his "medical" Marijuanna license. So apparently, he's smoked himself retarded.
I wasn't heart-broken. I'm not attached to Croomie at all, in fact, I kind of dread being alone with her at the apartment. We are so different, that it's just awkward. So, it was actually sort of exciting for me to get the news.
My first thought was my brother. His roommate is moving out at the end of October, and as far as I know, he hasn't found anyone to move in with yet. My second thought was my long-time friend that has just moved back to San Diego. She's asked me forever to move in with her, if and when she moves back.
Family is first, so I called my brother last night. He wasn't 100% sold on the idea, as there are a few kinks to work out. But he said he would let me know in the next day or so... I guess he has a lead on a potential roommate.So, I guess I just wait to see who is going to end up as my next roommate....
Will it be Broomie or Froomie ????
Update, 9/29/11: My brother is meeting with his other potential roommate to go over a few things. This doesn't look good for me moving in with my brother... unless this girl is offended by the bachelor pad smell and stained carpets.
As a side note, I have no idea what Croomie sees in her boyfriend... I can hardly stand him and I wondered for a long time if he was actually that dumb. Then I heard from Old Co-worker #1 that Stupid got his "medical" Marijuanna license. So apparently, he's smoked himself retarded.
I wasn't heart-broken. I'm not attached to Croomie at all, in fact, I kind of dread being alone with her at the apartment. We are so different, that it's just awkward. So, it was actually sort of exciting for me to get the news.
My first thought was my brother. His roommate is moving out at the end of October, and as far as I know, he hasn't found anyone to move in with yet. My second thought was my long-time friend that has just moved back to San Diego. She's asked me forever to move in with her, if and when she moves back.
Family is first, so I called my brother last night. He wasn't 100% sold on the idea, as there are a few kinks to work out. But he said he would let me know in the next day or so... I guess he has a lead on a potential roommate.So, I guess I just wait to see who is going to end up as my next roommate....
Will it be Broomie or Froomie ????
Update, 9/29/11: My brother is meeting with his other potential roommate to go over a few things. This doesn't look good for me moving in with my brother... unless this girl is offended by the bachelor pad smell and stained carpets.
Friday, September 23, 2011
Five reasons why I'm keeping myself miserable
I’ve got to be honest with myself. This job is crap. I had my hopes set way too high from the beginning and I’ve been in denial for quite some time. My illusion disappeared along with the clientele. When we were busy, I thought how great it was going to be once I got the hang of our invoice and order system. Because, of course the next step would be to fulfill my destiny of, as my business cards reads; (Queue singing angels) design center consultant!
Wrong. I’m sitting here at work, writing a blog on how I’m going to find my career.
It seems that I’m getting frustrated on a daily basis with all the administrative stuff I am expected to do, and how my boss can sometimes treat me as a naïve little girl. I am tired of being on ‘Perry-Time’ (as I call it). I can’t do anything without his approval, and sometimes I can’t do anything at all. “Can I follow up with this designer?” I say. Then responds with something like, “No, I’ll call them next week.” Which never happens, and God forbid I call them, because I’m just ‘the help’ and Perry is the one who knows what’s going on.
Then it’s, “Don’t you think we should set up an appointment with this person ASAP?” and he says, “No. I need to get XY and Z information first, but right now I’m busy staring at my inbox because it confuses me.” Okay he doesn’t actually say that last part. I just stuck in there, because it seriously takes him twenty minutes to write a one sentence email, in which there and their are switched and the word ‘thought’ is spelled incorrectly. But the point is, that if isn’t his idea, then it’s a bad one. His sloth-like responses and “excusable” neglect have lost us a number of jobs… though he would never admit it. Sometimes he keeps me in the dark about things, and it feels intentional. Like, he doesn’t want me to know because he wants to be the only person with this knowledge, the only person to speak to the designer and the only person whose advice and information holds any value.
So why am I still here? Well, I will tell you. First, I have lots of doctor appointments that make me miss a lot of work. It’s easier to miss time here, than it would be at a highly competitive design firm.
Second, the following two sentences are lies: (1) I am an in-house designer at a tile showroom and I have designed kitchens and bathrooms. (2) I know more than your other prospects about tile and stone because I specialize in it. I am still learning. I don’t think I have the knowledge that a firm would expect me to have from working here. I know that the longer I stay here, the more I will learn and the more chances I will have at doing some design work.
Third, I have no idea where I would go. I have heard one place that is hiring, and I am submitting my resume this weekend. Other than that, all I have heard is that it is still scary and slow out there.
Fourth, there is no competition here. I AM the only designer. If someone needs help, they automatically get sent to me. Yay.
Now the fifth and final reason is probably the biggest. I am constantly given glimmers of hope that this will turn into something that I can be proud of. Just two days ago, Perry said to someone, “Pluck is not a secretary.” Now, he didn’t actually say what I was, if not a secretary, but I think I made my ‘title’ pretty clear after the person replied, “Administrative assistant?” (insert spewing fumes and eyeballs of fire).
Idiot.
Perry also said the same day that he was going to start getting me out on jobsites. This is excellent. Even if I am only there just to see how something was installed, or to learn how to measure square footage, it still looks great on a resume. Who doesn’t want to hire a girl that can take your place on a jobsite if needed? It would also provide more face-time with general contractors and designers. They would then know that I have knowledge of the project and that their questions can be directed to me.
Also, the ownership is finally finishing the website. Finally. AND one of the guys working on the site is totally on my side. He is the only one who tells his clients that I am THE in-house designer, he is writing my consultation fees into contracts and he is specifically putting ‘design services offered’ on our website…. for the whole world to see.
Having gone through all of that, it’s clear that it would be worth-while for me to stick it out for a few more months and see what happens. So, when I get to the point where I don’t have a doctor appointment every other day, I can take another look at my position. If I am still stuck behind the desk with nothing to show for my time here, then I am gone.
P.S. I mentioned submitting my resume to a firm. The post has been up on Craigslist for about a week, I may be too late, but I am going to do it for ‘practice’. If they don’t like what they see, then fine. If they do, then I will go in for an interview (ahem… “Doctor appointment”). If they don’t like me after the interview, then fine… at least I’ve had practice interviewing, and my name is out there. If they offer me the job…. well, then….
Wrong. I’m sitting here at work, writing a blog on how I’m going to find my career.
It seems that I’m getting frustrated on a daily basis with all the administrative stuff I am expected to do, and how my boss can sometimes treat me as a naïve little girl. I am tired of being on ‘Perry-Time’ (as I call it). I can’t do anything without his approval, and sometimes I can’t do anything at all. “Can I follow up with this designer?” I say. Then responds with something like, “No, I’ll call them next week.” Which never happens, and God forbid I call them, because I’m just ‘the help’ and Perry is the one who knows what’s going on.
Then it’s, “Don’t you think we should set up an appointment with this person ASAP?” and he says, “No. I need to get XY and Z information first, but right now I’m busy staring at my inbox because it confuses me.” Okay he doesn’t actually say that last part. I just stuck in there, because it seriously takes him twenty minutes to write a one sentence email, in which there and their are switched and the word ‘thought’ is spelled incorrectly. But the point is, that if isn’t his idea, then it’s a bad one. His sloth-like responses and “excusable” neglect have lost us a number of jobs… though he would never admit it. Sometimes he keeps me in the dark about things, and it feels intentional. Like, he doesn’t want me to know because he wants to be the only person with this knowledge, the only person to speak to the designer and the only person whose advice and information holds any value.
So why am I still here? Well, I will tell you. First, I have lots of doctor appointments that make me miss a lot of work. It’s easier to miss time here, than it would be at a highly competitive design firm.
Second, the following two sentences are lies: (1) I am an in-house designer at a tile showroom and I have designed kitchens and bathrooms. (2) I know more than your other prospects about tile and stone because I specialize in it. I am still learning. I don’t think I have the knowledge that a firm would expect me to have from working here. I know that the longer I stay here, the more I will learn and the more chances I will have at doing some design work.
Third, I have no idea where I would go. I have heard one place that is hiring, and I am submitting my resume this weekend. Other than that, all I have heard is that it is still scary and slow out there.
Fourth, there is no competition here. I AM the only designer. If someone needs help, they automatically get sent to me. Yay.
Now the fifth and final reason is probably the biggest. I am constantly given glimmers of hope that this will turn into something that I can be proud of. Just two days ago, Perry said to someone, “Pluck is not a secretary.” Now, he didn’t actually say what I was, if not a secretary, but I think I made my ‘title’ pretty clear after the person replied, “Administrative assistant?” (insert spewing fumes and eyeballs of fire).
Idiot.
Perry also said the same day that he was going to start getting me out on jobsites. This is excellent. Even if I am only there just to see how something was installed, or to learn how to measure square footage, it still looks great on a resume. Who doesn’t want to hire a girl that can take your place on a jobsite if needed? It would also provide more face-time with general contractors and designers. They would then know that I have knowledge of the project and that their questions can be directed to me.
Also, the ownership is finally finishing the website. Finally. AND one of the guys working on the site is totally on my side. He is the only one who tells his clients that I am THE in-house designer, he is writing my consultation fees into contracts and he is specifically putting ‘design services offered’ on our website…. for the whole world to see.
Having gone through all of that, it’s clear that it would be worth-while for me to stick it out for a few more months and see what happens. So, when I get to the point where I don’t have a doctor appointment every other day, I can take another look at my position. If I am still stuck behind the desk with nothing to show for my time here, then I am gone.
P.S. I mentioned submitting my resume to a firm. The post has been up on Craigslist for about a week, I may be too late, but I am going to do it for ‘practice’. If they don’t like what they see, then fine. If they do, then I will go in for an interview (ahem… “Doctor appointment”). If they don’t like me after the interview, then fine… at least I’ve had practice interviewing, and my name is out there. If they offer me the job…. well, then….
Thursday, July 7, 2011
Oh, Pluck's getting angry!
I have not always been known as a very strong person. Okay, I've never been known as a strong person at all. I'm not weak, I just don't fight every fight that comes my way. I tend to float like a butterfly and... dodge things. Another favorite is to get internally angry, and vent to others, thinking that talking about it will help me figure the situation out. Hence, the blog.
But as I get older, I have started taking more tips from people close to me. Not that I surround myself with fighters, but I do like to be surrounded by strong people. Like my parents, my boyfriend... and now my boss, Perry.
For some reason, Perry thinks I am strong and stubborn, and that I always have been. For some reason, I like this. It's actually been getting into my head and is now becoming true...
Here are some examples I have noticed, just in the last week, of my new-fangled strength:
AT WORK:
I may have failed to mention this before; the parent company of Fancy Tile showroom, is a fabrication and installation company, for tile and stone. This is important to mention here, because recently, the parent company 'fired' their receptionist/purchaser. The owner, Karen (her and her husband,Paul, own the businesses together) decided that I could order materials for them, through Fancy Tile. So she will send emails or call me at the showroom to tell me which slabs she needs me to order, from what companies, what day to have them delivered and any other specifics I need to be aware of.
As you may guess, this takes up a lot of my time from my work at Fancy Tile. Karen is demanding, slightly scary and leaves something to be desired in her communication skills. Though she apparently likes me, I still feel intimidated by her and I focus really hard on Parent Company's orders, so as not to mess them up.
After few days of my attention being completely devoted to Parent Company's frustrating and lengthy affairs. I finally had a serious conversation with Perry. I said, "My purpose at this showroom is not to be a purchaser. I don't mind helping out, if it's needed but this type of job description was not why I started here. If it continues in this direction, Karen can go hire somebody who didn't pay a ton of money for college."
Perry agreed and said that he has my back, if this situation gets any more ridiculous...
(sidenote: I haven't been asked to order anything for Karen in the last few days)
AT BOYFRIEND:
Boyfriend will be renovating his house soon; kitchens, floors and bathrooms. We had talked about it a few times, and with each conversation, I had this strange feeling that he wasn't asking me for help.... the other day he brought up his kitchen again, stating that he really needed to start the process. Immediately after, he said that he was going to, "hire a kitchen and bath designer".
OH, no he didn't!!
I said, as calmly as I could, "I can't believe you would say that. You know where I work and what I do! Why would you hire a kitchen designer?! They are going to do the same thing I would do for you, but they will charge you a ridiculous amount to do it! I am immersed in interior design and materials, and I have contacts! You are in development, there's an in-house designer that works for you, and you have contacts! There are no two people more qualified to do this on their own, than you and I are."
He mumbled something about appliances and keeping an eye on the subs and I responded with, "Then look at some damn consumer reports for appliance ratings and hire a freaking contractor to watch the subs!"
I brought samples over to his house the other day so he and I could start the design process.
(sidenote: I am a little scared of taking this project on)
AT RANCH:
The owners of the ranch are out of town this week and the 'interns' are watching the ranch. Last weekend, the owner asked myself and the other volunteers which days we would be available to come up and help. I told her that I would only be able to come up Saturday, as usual, and no more... but I also said, "Don't you trust the 'interns' to take care of things while you are gone? I thought they've been doing everything perfectly?" (Please don't read that sarcastically, it was said in an honest, nice way)
She didn't really have a response... I guess she doesn't trust the 'interns' all that much. I also have decided to not stress so much about the ranch. It is, after all, only volunteer work, and I do have my own life to take care of. I will be working this Saturday, leaving early and I will not be working next Saturday.
(sidenote: there is no sidenote, that's just the way it is going to be from now on)
But as I get older, I have started taking more tips from people close to me. Not that I surround myself with fighters, but I do like to be surrounded by strong people. Like my parents, my boyfriend... and now my boss, Perry.
For some reason, Perry thinks I am strong and stubborn, and that I always have been. For some reason, I like this. It's actually been getting into my head and is now becoming true...
Here are some examples I have noticed, just in the last week, of my new-fangled strength:
AT WORK:
I may have failed to mention this before; the parent company of Fancy Tile showroom, is a fabrication and installation company, for tile and stone. This is important to mention here, because recently, the parent company 'fired' their receptionist/purchaser. The owner, Karen (her and her husband,Paul, own the businesses together) decided that I could order materials for them, through Fancy Tile. So she will send emails or call me at the showroom to tell me which slabs she needs me to order, from what companies, what day to have them delivered and any other specifics I need to be aware of.
As you may guess, this takes up a lot of my time from my work at Fancy Tile. Karen is demanding, slightly scary and leaves something to be desired in her communication skills. Though she apparently likes me, I still feel intimidated by her and I focus really hard on Parent Company's orders, so as not to mess them up.
After few days of my attention being completely devoted to Parent Company's frustrating and lengthy affairs. I finally had a serious conversation with Perry. I said, "My purpose at this showroom is not to be a purchaser. I don't mind helping out, if it's needed but this type of job description was not why I started here. If it continues in this direction, Karen can go hire somebody who didn't pay a ton of money for college."
Perry agreed and said that he has my back, if this situation gets any more ridiculous...
(sidenote: I haven't been asked to order anything for Karen in the last few days)
AT BOYFRIEND:
Boyfriend will be renovating his house soon; kitchens, floors and bathrooms. We had talked about it a few times, and with each conversation, I had this strange feeling that he wasn't asking me for help.... the other day he brought up his kitchen again, stating that he really needed to start the process. Immediately after, he said that he was going to, "hire a kitchen and bath designer".
OH, no he didn't!!
I said, as calmly as I could, "I can't believe you would say that. You know where I work and what I do! Why would you hire a kitchen designer?! They are going to do the same thing I would do for you, but they will charge you a ridiculous amount to do it! I am immersed in interior design and materials, and I have contacts! You are in development, there's an in-house designer that works for you, and you have contacts! There are no two people more qualified to do this on their own, than you and I are."
He mumbled something about appliances and keeping an eye on the subs and I responded with, "Then look at some damn consumer reports for appliance ratings and hire a freaking contractor to watch the subs!"
I brought samples over to his house the other day so he and I could start the design process.
(sidenote: I am a little scared of taking this project on)
AT RANCH:
The owners of the ranch are out of town this week and the 'interns' are watching the ranch. Last weekend, the owner asked myself and the other volunteers which days we would be available to come up and help. I told her that I would only be able to come up Saturday, as usual, and no more... but I also said, "Don't you trust the 'interns' to take care of things while you are gone? I thought they've been doing everything perfectly?" (Please don't read that sarcastically, it was said in an honest, nice way)
She didn't really have a response... I guess she doesn't trust the 'interns' all that much. I also have decided to not stress so much about the ranch. It is, after all, only volunteer work, and I do have my own life to take care of. I will be working this Saturday, leaving early and I will not be working next Saturday.
(sidenote: there is no sidenote, that's just the way it is going to be from now on)
Tuesday, June 7, 2011
Pounding in my heart
I’ve had a few tough days recently. Nothing really about work, though I am praying for a quiet end to a very messy job that’s been on our books for months now. It’s more about a struggle I have with myself, and how I let it be that I don’t ever see my own friends. I have very limited free time and I thought that I had all my priorities straight, but I’ve found that I go months and months without seeing my friends. The biggest part of this equation is the volunteer work that I do at the horse rescue. It is the reason that my weekends are practically non-existent.
The question always lingered in the back of my mind, “How much longer can I actually keep this up?” and I’ve avoided answering it, for so long, because I love the horses. I love the honest work I do there and most of all, I love the appreciation I was receiving. WAS receiving, yes, you read that right. There are new ‘interns’ at the ranch (of which I do not know the meaning in this case, probably just means protégé). They started a few months ago as volunteers, just like the rest of us. However, they are able to come to the ranch more often than any of us are- because they don’t work full time, and they both live at home with their parents. Since it was announced that they were ‘interns’, the owner of the ranch has become biased. All the glory and praise goes to the ‘interns’ and all of us regular ol' volunteers get pooped on. Mind you, the ‘interns’ only started a few months ago.
It was not long after the ‘interns’ became ‘interns’, that I had to clean out two horse stalls myself, while the girl ‘intern’ just stood and watched. She was too scared to go into these two stalls with the animals, even after I told her it would be fine. “I’d rather not,” she said. So I said, “Fine, then hold the wheelbarrow for me” (While I throw poop towards it- LOOKOUT!).
There were many incidents where the owner went on and on about how great her ‘interns’ were, in a way that both offended and angered all of us volunteers. Then last Saturday, as all of us were cleaning every stall on the property, the boy ‘intern’ sat on his computer fixing the website for the ranch. One of the volunteers (who’s been doing this for 3 years now) went into the barn to grab some water. The owner of the ranch was in the barn with the computer nerd, and asked who was out cleaning the stalls. Old volunteer replied, “All of us. Myself and the other 4 girls.” The ranch owner then replied, “So girl ‘intern’ is down there, too? Good, at least there’s somebody to take the lead”. This was moments before girl ‘intern’ was yet again, scared to go into one of the stalls and Old volunteer actually did it for her. Probably wishing she could call the owner down to witness, then make her swallow her words.
While this was going on, I was cleaning the wild Zebra stall out with another volunteer. It was fantastic to be in the stall with the wild herd, ears and eyes alert, just watching us. We were one on one (or two on six) with one of the coolest animals in the animal kingdom. We picked up all the manure and then filled their water buckets to the brim, it was a hot day and the other volunteer and I took turns drinking out of the hose, while the buckets filled up. When we were done, we walked back towards the door and the zebras darted to the opposite side of their stall, as their hooves pounded the earth you could feel it in your heart. We all sat outside that zebra stall in the shade of a tree, all 5 volunteers and the ‘intern’. I watched as the zebras lined up at their water buckets to drink, just as school kids would line up in front of the drinking fountain. I smiled and pointed it out to the volunteer who had helped me clean, she felt the same way I did- the zebras were thankful for the fresh, cold water we had given them.
Tears are coming to my eyes as I am relating this story. I hate to think that I may have to leave this kind of happiness behind permanently and prematurely because of the way things have changed. I can’t believe that the owner could be so blind as to think that her precious ‘interns’ are suddenly worth so much more than her volunteers that have been coming for years now.
Even if there weren’t sourness at the ranch, my time there would still have to end eventually. I can’t sustain my schedule and friendships the way that they are now. Overtime, the volunteer work became an obligation to be there every weekend I had free. It didn’t bother me too much at first, but it began to wear on me as friends slipped away and my to-do list became the stuff I scrambled through on workdays, always leaving one or two uncompleted items. The decision would be easy, if I could just go every-other weekend. But now I fear that it would not be enough for the owner, and my importance would slip, way below the point it has fallen to already. I wish I could go back to the way things were when the owner was always so happy with all of us. I always loved my time at the ranch- and would love it still, if I could make it work.
Already this month, I have missed two weeks in a row, and had to leave early last weekend because I had other plans. This Saturday I have a friend’s baby shower at noon, so I wouldn’t be able to make it at all. Maybe this is the test to see if I can continue volunteering, or if my more infrequent visits would create problems with the owner.
Needless to say, I have been going around in my head about this for weeks. It’s a tough thing to think about and I wish the answer were clear and easy.
The question always lingered in the back of my mind, “How much longer can I actually keep this up?” and I’ve avoided answering it, for so long, because I love the horses. I love the honest work I do there and most of all, I love the appreciation I was receiving. WAS receiving, yes, you read that right. There are new ‘interns’ at the ranch (of which I do not know the meaning in this case, probably just means protégé). They started a few months ago as volunteers, just like the rest of us. However, they are able to come to the ranch more often than any of us are- because they don’t work full time, and they both live at home with their parents. Since it was announced that they were ‘interns’, the owner of the ranch has become biased. All the glory and praise goes to the ‘interns’ and all of us regular ol' volunteers get pooped on. Mind you, the ‘interns’ only started a few months ago.
It was not long after the ‘interns’ became ‘interns’, that I had to clean out two horse stalls myself, while the girl ‘intern’ just stood and watched. She was too scared to go into these two stalls with the animals, even after I told her it would be fine. “I’d rather not,” she said. So I said, “Fine, then hold the wheelbarrow for me” (While I throw poop towards it- LOOKOUT!).
There were many incidents where the owner went on and on about how great her ‘interns’ were, in a way that both offended and angered all of us volunteers. Then last Saturday, as all of us were cleaning every stall on the property, the boy ‘intern’ sat on his computer fixing the website for the ranch. One of the volunteers (who’s been doing this for 3 years now) went into the barn to grab some water. The owner of the ranch was in the barn with the computer nerd, and asked who was out cleaning the stalls. Old volunteer replied, “All of us. Myself and the other 4 girls.” The ranch owner then replied, “So girl ‘intern’ is down there, too? Good, at least there’s somebody to take the lead”. This was moments before girl ‘intern’ was yet again, scared to go into one of the stalls and Old volunteer actually did it for her. Probably wishing she could call the owner down to witness, then make her swallow her words.
While this was going on, I was cleaning the wild Zebra stall out with another volunteer. It was fantastic to be in the stall with the wild herd, ears and eyes alert, just watching us. We were one on one (or two on six) with one of the coolest animals in the animal kingdom. We picked up all the manure and then filled their water buckets to the brim, it was a hot day and the other volunteer and I took turns drinking out of the hose, while the buckets filled up. When we were done, we walked back towards the door and the zebras darted to the opposite side of their stall, as their hooves pounded the earth you could feel it in your heart. We all sat outside that zebra stall in the shade of a tree, all 5 volunteers and the ‘intern’. I watched as the zebras lined up at their water buckets to drink, just as school kids would line up in front of the drinking fountain. I smiled and pointed it out to the volunteer who had helped me clean, she felt the same way I did- the zebras were thankful for the fresh, cold water we had given them.
Tears are coming to my eyes as I am relating this story. I hate to think that I may have to leave this kind of happiness behind permanently and prematurely because of the way things have changed. I can’t believe that the owner could be so blind as to think that her precious ‘interns’ are suddenly worth so much more than her volunteers that have been coming for years now.
Even if there weren’t sourness at the ranch, my time there would still have to end eventually. I can’t sustain my schedule and friendships the way that they are now. Overtime, the volunteer work became an obligation to be there every weekend I had free. It didn’t bother me too much at first, but it began to wear on me as friends slipped away and my to-do list became the stuff I scrambled through on workdays, always leaving one or two uncompleted items. The decision would be easy, if I could just go every-other weekend. But now I fear that it would not be enough for the owner, and my importance would slip, way below the point it has fallen to already. I wish I could go back to the way things were when the owner was always so happy with all of us. I always loved my time at the ranch- and would love it still, if I could make it work.
Already this month, I have missed two weeks in a row, and had to leave early last weekend because I had other plans. This Saturday I have a friend’s baby shower at noon, so I wouldn’t be able to make it at all. Maybe this is the test to see if I can continue volunteering, or if my more infrequent visits would create problems with the owner.
Needless to say, I have been going around in my head about this for weeks. It’s a tough thing to think about and I wish the answer were clear and easy.
Wednesday, May 25, 2011
Yay, this may or may not be exciting news!
I may (or may not) have my very first client!
Last week, our fancy tile showroom did a vender's table top event. While it was very slow all day, I did appreciate my boss and my coworker (our parent company's salesperson) handing out my card to everyone and telling them that I was the in-house designer.
Though that's what I have been telling people all along, I hadn't heard it from my boss before then. So, you can imagine how great that made me feel. Especially when it was told to people who actually said they needed design help. I still didn't really think anything would come of it.
Until two days ago.
This young guy walked in, who I remember meeting at the event. He said he was coming in to talk about his bathroom. Unfortunately, my brain was completely over-loaded with paperwork and orders and such that I just could not wrap my head around the design he was trying to achieve. The poor guy was asking me questions and I just couldn't seem to come up with any good solid answers.
He took a couple samples home and I made sure to tell him that he would have to bring them back. That way, I would be sure to see him again, and hopefully look a little bit more like I knew what I was talking about.
I have since, been sketching the crap out of "his bathroom", trying to come up with some design options. His house is in La Jolla (a very high end town) and eventually it is going to be a whole house re-model.
I want him as a client so bad. And I am so frustrated that I was unable to process anything when he was in here! I literally had paperwork all over my desk and miles of emails I was going through. I could not make my brain switch from an un-creative task to a completely design-related one. SO I called him. Just now. I told him that I was sorry about not giving him my full attention when he walked in, but wanted to let him know that I had done some research and that I will be prepared with pictures and sketches when he has time to come back in.
He said he would probably be in the beginning of next week.
Yikes.
In other exciting, possibly-means-something news, my boss mentioned something the other day that he has said a few times before. He said, "Well, soon we will be headed to the point where you will have an assistant and I will be gone. You will run the showroom and I will be out on the road as more of an outside sales rep."
Hmmmm.... interesting.
Last week, our fancy tile showroom did a vender's table top event. While it was very slow all day, I did appreciate my boss and my coworker (our parent company's salesperson) handing out my card to everyone and telling them that I was the in-house designer.
Though that's what I have been telling people all along, I hadn't heard it from my boss before then. So, you can imagine how great that made me feel. Especially when it was told to people who actually said they needed design help. I still didn't really think anything would come of it.
Until two days ago.
This young guy walked in, who I remember meeting at the event. He said he was coming in to talk about his bathroom. Unfortunately, my brain was completely over-loaded with paperwork and orders and such that I just could not wrap my head around the design he was trying to achieve. The poor guy was asking me questions and I just couldn't seem to come up with any good solid answers.
He took a couple samples home and I made sure to tell him that he would have to bring them back. That way, I would be sure to see him again, and hopefully look a little bit more like I knew what I was talking about.
I have since, been sketching the crap out of "his bathroom", trying to come up with some design options. His house is in La Jolla (a very high end town) and eventually it is going to be a whole house re-model.
I want him as a client so bad. And I am so frustrated that I was unable to process anything when he was in here! I literally had paperwork all over my desk and miles of emails I was going through. I could not make my brain switch from an un-creative task to a completely design-related one. SO I called him. Just now. I told him that I was sorry about not giving him my full attention when he walked in, but wanted to let him know that I had done some research and that I will be prepared with pictures and sketches when he has time to come back in.
He said he would probably be in the beginning of next week.
Yikes.
In other exciting, possibly-means-something news, my boss mentioned something the other day that he has said a few times before. He said, "Well, soon we will be headed to the point where you will have an assistant and I will be gone. You will run the showroom and I will be out on the road as more of an outside sales rep."
Hmmmm.... interesting.
Wednesday, April 6, 2011
Troubled, But Not Unbroken
Have you ever been completely knocked off your feet by some small thing that completely changes how you view your seemingly perfect life? Maybe your life isn’t actually perfect, maybe it’s just very pleasant and you are totally content with how everything is unfolding around you. Then an honest answer to a simple question, or a returned email, makes you question a choice you made, or decided not to make, everything unravels and you wonder what your life would be like if you had done ‘this’ or ‘that’ instead.
You start picturing how your life would be different if you had made that move, had made that phone call, that trip, that choice. Would you be able to tell someone that perfect, successful thing that you can’t tell him or her right now? Would that honest answer be the same? Would there even be a question to answer? You go back a year, two years, three, and then back to just yesterday. Should I have? Could I have? I would have been happy. I would have been successful, on top of the world. Then this bad thing wouldn’t have happened, this bridge wouldn’t be burned or even a little rickety. I wouldn’t have had to suffer through this pain or that stress. This bump in the road would have been smaller, or completely avoided.
So why didn’t I choose the other path? What did I see in the road that made me walk the other way? If it was so simple to pick this life, why was it too hard to choose the other? Or was it hard to choose the other? It shouldn’t have been. It wasn’t. I missed out. I turned the wrong way. How can I go back, where do I fix this? The answer isn’t really clear. There’s another decision, another choice. Stay or go? Go, but how? What would I be missing? Who would I be missing?
Then things start to disappear from your picture. If you had done ‘this’ or ‘that’ instead, you would have never had that one experience, which lead to that realization. You wouldn’t have grown in this way. Laughed at that moment, cried with this one, then learned from them both. Yes, something else would have made you smile and think. A different lesson learned, different trouble, different pain. Maybe you would be better, maybe you would be worse. You definitely wouldn’t have this life, this knowledge, this person and this love. Could you live without it and without them? Now, after you’ve held it in your hand, could you live without it? Can you guarantee that you would actually be happier, more successful, on top of the world?
You realize that you can’t guarantee anything. Not then and not now. You can change something and try to get back to where you think you would have been, but it wouldn’t be easy. It would be hard, and you might be giving something up. But instead of knowing you did make the right decision, you just hope you did. You have to believe that you did, even if there is a small part of you that wonders, and will always wonder. It would be terrible to give some of this up. Now that you have this life, how could you live without it?
There’s still something in that returned email that aches. Something totally correct in that honest answer, and so very valid in the question you asked. It makes your eyes go fuzzy while you drift away and think, “Maybe…” But there is no time machine. You will have to live with the questions, keep it small, keep it back. Some of it is not worth anymore thoughts. It will always be there, but just as a fragment of the life you may or may not have had, that may or may not have been better than this one.
You just have to use the rest of it, the changeable aspects of your current situation, to push you forward and to be the reason why you get up in the morning. It IS the thing that makes you come back to the desk everyday and work. Reminds you to bite your tongue and smile when the She-Devil parades her accomplishments in front of you. IT was why you asked that question, because you KNOW there is more to do. To get to the place you want to be, to be successful without loosing anything, something needs to be done. You just don't know exactly what it is yet.
You start picturing how your life would be different if you had made that move, had made that phone call, that trip, that choice. Would you be able to tell someone that perfect, successful thing that you can’t tell him or her right now? Would that honest answer be the same? Would there even be a question to answer? You go back a year, two years, three, and then back to just yesterday. Should I have? Could I have? I would have been happy. I would have been successful, on top of the world. Then this bad thing wouldn’t have happened, this bridge wouldn’t be burned or even a little rickety. I wouldn’t have had to suffer through this pain or that stress. This bump in the road would have been smaller, or completely avoided.
So why didn’t I choose the other path? What did I see in the road that made me walk the other way? If it was so simple to pick this life, why was it too hard to choose the other? Or was it hard to choose the other? It shouldn’t have been. It wasn’t. I missed out. I turned the wrong way. How can I go back, where do I fix this? The answer isn’t really clear. There’s another decision, another choice. Stay or go? Go, but how? What would I be missing? Who would I be missing?
Then things start to disappear from your picture. If you had done ‘this’ or ‘that’ instead, you would have never had that one experience, which lead to that realization. You wouldn’t have grown in this way. Laughed at that moment, cried with this one, then learned from them both. Yes, something else would have made you smile and think. A different lesson learned, different trouble, different pain. Maybe you would be better, maybe you would be worse. You definitely wouldn’t have this life, this knowledge, this person and this love. Could you live without it and without them? Now, after you’ve held it in your hand, could you live without it? Can you guarantee that you would actually be happier, more successful, on top of the world?
You realize that you can’t guarantee anything. Not then and not now. You can change something and try to get back to where you think you would have been, but it wouldn’t be easy. It would be hard, and you might be giving something up. But instead of knowing you did make the right decision, you just hope you did. You have to believe that you did, even if there is a small part of you that wonders, and will always wonder. It would be terrible to give some of this up. Now that you have this life, how could you live without it?
There’s still something in that returned email that aches. Something totally correct in that honest answer, and so very valid in the question you asked. It makes your eyes go fuzzy while you drift away and think, “Maybe…” But there is no time machine. You will have to live with the questions, keep it small, keep it back. Some of it is not worth anymore thoughts. It will always be there, but just as a fragment of the life you may or may not have had, that may or may not have been better than this one.
You just have to use the rest of it, the changeable aspects of your current situation, to push you forward and to be the reason why you get up in the morning. It IS the thing that makes you come back to the desk everyday and work. Reminds you to bite your tongue and smile when the She-Devil parades her accomplishments in front of you. IT was why you asked that question, because you KNOW there is more to do. To get to the place you want to be, to be successful without loosing anything, something needs to be done. You just don't know exactly what it is yet.
Friday, April 1, 2011
22/minute
I had a very interesting doctor appointment the other day. It was for my whiplash injury from a car accident nearly two years ago, which is still giving me problems. So, I found myself sitting in a room, hooked up to a computer that monitored my breathing, heart rate and temperature. As I watched the colorful lines and balls on the screen in front of me go up and down, the Doc told to me all about the sympathetic nervous system, and how it triggers the “fight or flight” reaction in the body. While it was all very interesting, I was wondering when she would get to the point about why that had anything to do with the fact that my neck is still in pain.
Then she pointed at the blue ball going up and down rapidly on the screen, “That’s your breathing rate. When the ball goes up, you’re inhaling, when it goes down, you’re exhaling.”
Okay, I thought, simple enough.
Then she said, “Normal breathing rate is between 6 and 10 breaths per minute”, she pointed to a number at the bottom of the screen, which was flipping around somewhere between 19 and 22, “Those are your breaths per minute”.
She went on to explain that by breathing fast, I am keeping my body in the “fight or flight” mode, telling it constantly to be ready for something. This is keeping the trigger points in my muscles on hyper drive. So, every time I put my head/neck in an uncomfortable position, or move it just a little bit too quick, they trigger the muscles to tense up, causing pain.
She looked back at the computer and said, “Usually when I tell people they are breathing fast, they slow down… You’re not.”
I laughed and the little blue ball jerked around on the screen.
The next bit of information was about breathing with the diaphragm, or “belly breathing”. Which I don’t do. She explained how the muscle works to bring air into the lungs, which all sounded very elementary, yet when she told me to take a breath, my belly stayed still and my chest rose.
Wrong!
More explaining, and ‘watch me’ and then, “Well, your diaphragm is weak from never using it, so we will have to work on that, it will take some practice.”
So we started the practice. I was told to watch the yellow ball on the screen and inhale as it went up, exhale as it went down. It paced up and down the screen very smoothly... and so effing slow! I tried to follow it with my breaths and the red heart rate ball started flipping out all over the place. She had to speed up the yellow ball for me because she could tell I was about to pass out. Even the quicker one was kicking my butt. Apparently, I am hyperventilating all the time.
After a few more minutes of struggling, I was sent home with some homework. I read through the information about hyperventilation and found that it causes stress, anxiety, forgetfulness, exhaustion, contributes to PMS and muscular pain.
The answer to all my problems.
I’ve been trying to slow down my breathing and use my diaphragm at night and even a bit in the morning before I wake up. Yesterday at work, I installed the other piece of ‘homework’ on my computer. It’s a breathing exercise that you can set to pop up at different intervals throughout the day. Instead of a yellow ball, it looks like a tube filling with color. When the color goes up, I inhale, down I exhale. I have it set to pop up every 45 minutes, for a two-minute exercise. I like it so far, it makes me stop, breathe, and relax.
I’m not so sure how much I believe it will heal my neck, but I’m hoping that it will at least help me to be a more calm person. I wonder what that's like?
I just hope it kicks in before Old Coworker #1's wedding tomorrow. My banshee of an old boss will be seated at the same table as Croomie and I! At least I will have boyfriend with me to shield some of the rude side comments that occasionally spew out of her. I just hope that I can come up with some cool work related stuff to tell her. Even though she'll just nod with raised eyebrows in her, 'I really don't care, but I'm going to look like that's impressive anyway, so they'll think I'm impressed even though I'm about to say something snotty in 3,2,1 -' way.
Damn, where is that breathing-tracker?
Then she pointed at the blue ball going up and down rapidly on the screen, “That’s your breathing rate. When the ball goes up, you’re inhaling, when it goes down, you’re exhaling.”
Okay, I thought, simple enough.
Then she said, “Normal breathing rate is between 6 and 10 breaths per minute”, she pointed to a number at the bottom of the screen, which was flipping around somewhere between 19 and 22, “Those are your breaths per minute”.
She went on to explain that by breathing fast, I am keeping my body in the “fight or flight” mode, telling it constantly to be ready for something. This is keeping the trigger points in my muscles on hyper drive. So, every time I put my head/neck in an uncomfortable position, or move it just a little bit too quick, they trigger the muscles to tense up, causing pain.
She looked back at the computer and said, “Usually when I tell people they are breathing fast, they slow down… You’re not.”
I laughed and the little blue ball jerked around on the screen.
The next bit of information was about breathing with the diaphragm, or “belly breathing”. Which I don’t do. She explained how the muscle works to bring air into the lungs, which all sounded very elementary, yet when she told me to take a breath, my belly stayed still and my chest rose.
Wrong!
More explaining, and ‘watch me’ and then, “Well, your diaphragm is weak from never using it, so we will have to work on that, it will take some practice.”
So we started the practice. I was told to watch the yellow ball on the screen and inhale as it went up, exhale as it went down. It paced up and down the screen very smoothly... and so effing slow! I tried to follow it with my breaths and the red heart rate ball started flipping out all over the place. She had to speed up the yellow ball for me because she could tell I was about to pass out. Even the quicker one was kicking my butt. Apparently, I am hyperventilating all the time.
After a few more minutes of struggling, I was sent home with some homework. I read through the information about hyperventilation and found that it causes stress, anxiety, forgetfulness, exhaustion, contributes to PMS and muscular pain.
The answer to all my problems.
I’ve been trying to slow down my breathing and use my diaphragm at night and even a bit in the morning before I wake up. Yesterday at work, I installed the other piece of ‘homework’ on my computer. It’s a breathing exercise that you can set to pop up at different intervals throughout the day. Instead of a yellow ball, it looks like a tube filling with color. When the color goes up, I inhale, down I exhale. I have it set to pop up every 45 minutes, for a two-minute exercise. I like it so far, it makes me stop, breathe, and relax.
I’m not so sure how much I believe it will heal my neck, but I’m hoping that it will at least help me to be a more calm person. I wonder what that's like?
I just hope it kicks in before Old Coworker #1's wedding tomorrow. My banshee of an old boss will be seated at the same table as Croomie and I! At least I will have boyfriend with me to shield some of the rude side comments that occasionally spew out of her. I just hope that I can come up with some cool work related stuff to tell her. Even though she'll just nod with raised eyebrows in her, 'I really don't care, but I'm going to look like that's impressive anyway, so they'll think I'm impressed even though I'm about to say something snotty in 3,2,1 -' way.
Damn, where is that breathing-tracker?
Tuesday, February 1, 2011
Oh, Sunday. What a day you were...
Old Coworker #1 had invited me to her bridal shower. Croomie was also invited but was unable to attend because she would be on a cruise, lucky biotch. And of course, since both of us were invited, that meant that Psycho Old Employer was also going to be there (yay for me). I actually hadn't thought of it until Croomie mentioned it on Thursday night. She knowingly said that Psycho and I would probably be sitting together, since we didn't know any of Old Coworker #1's friends or family.
For the next 2 days, I tried not to dwell on the fact that I would have to endure hours with that crazy woman. But I did wonder what I would tell her about my job. I wanted to say so many things:
"They actually like me, and treat me like a person."
"The owners of the company recognize the fact that I have talent. And feelings. "
"Unlike some people I've worked for in the past, my current employer is not a complete ass."
There were a couple good things I knew I would be able to say. One thing I could say is that I really like my job a lot, and the other is that my boss and I are active in the interior design community. I would be able to tell her that we go to ASID events and San Diego Home and Garden Magazine parties. I could hope that she may be jealous of the fact that I might know more 'powerful' people than she, when it comes to our industry.
Boyfriend also gave me a good nugget for conversation, by taking me to a Building Industry Association dinner Saturday night. I was so excited to be going (and so were the owners of my company and my boss) that I bought a new cocktail dress, got my hair cut and stuffed a ton of business cards into my purse. I have to admit, I was a little out of my element at the BIA dinner, and spent most of the night watching and observing how the conversations and networking unfolded (I did hand out a couple cards, but I think that when the next event comes around, I will be much better at talking about my company and making connections).
While Boyfriend talked shop to an industry partner after the dinner, I checked my phone for messages. I was shocked to see that I had a text message from Psycho-woman:
"Hi Pluck! I meant to get in touch with you sooner, but I was wondering if you wanted to carpool to Coworker #1's shower tomorrow. I've volunteered to do the flower arrangements and will need help setting them up."
I honestly wasn't sure if I wanted to carpool or not. I didn't want to be with her much longer than necessary and I didn't want to be on her schedule, but I was interested in saving gas and I knew it would be hard for her to berate me too much between my Del Martment and the hotel.... so I stalled. I told her that I was out with Boyfriend and we had breakfast plans in the AM. If she could tell me what time she wanted to leave, I would let her know if I could make it in time.
She responded, "10:30. Thanks!"
And I did. When I arrived, the ballroom of the hotel was filled with nine bridesmaides and a ton of mothers... did I really have to be there? But then I spotted Coworker #1 and smiled to myself. I really did want her to have a great shower and she looked so flustered already, so I put my purse in the corner and went in pursuit of Mrs. Kevorkian.
I found her in a back room rudely shoving flowers into tiny vases... oh, how she treats living, breathing things. When I said Hi, she turned around and smiled, said hello and asked how I was. Sounds nice enough, but I saw her look my outfit up and down as she reached over for a weak, one-armed hug (it's true, I was a little underdressed but I knew that I still looked nice). When she pulled away she immediately gave me a couple orders and I went off to follow them. It was strange how easy it was to fall back into that relationship of, "Do as I say". When I completed the small tasks she gave me, I decided to separate myself from her by helping arrange the gifts on the gift tables.
Soon enough, though, it was time to sit down, and yup, she was sitting right next to me. We started some small chit-chat and she was being very nice... even though she was saying some insensitive things to the girl she abruptly laid off just a few months ago. Things like, "Oh we are SO busy right now!" and, "We have some very high-end clients now, it's a great opportunity for Coworker #1 and Croomie and their interior design futures." Oh, and there was also a mention of a mistake I had made on a contract right before I left. I don't know how she happened to slip that in there, sneaky little brat.
I told her all I could about how wonderful my new job was. I told her about all the events, even the one the night before with Boyfriend (of course her response was that she used to go to those things years ago when they were much bigger and more important. Bitch). But I just didn't feel like anything I said really impressed her. I wished I had something more, I dunno, successful to tell her, but I digress.
Overall, the day wasn't that bad. It was much easier for my feelings to dodge her hurtful words. She just didn't affect me the way it used to. I still felt slightly less that equal to her, by the way she spoke to me and the things she said, but I bounced back fairly quickly when I left there. In a strange way, I was actually happier because I knew I didn't have to go to work for that woman on Monday. So I was doing alright...
Then I got her text:
"It was so nice seeing you today, Pluck. You are as beautiful as always but an inner beauty and radiance has started to shine through."
Um, what? "But an inner beauty and radiance has started to shine through?!" So, I never had any inner beauty before, and now she can see there's a little bit poking out of there.... ? Thanks, Cruela. You're the master of those insulting compliments.
But I won't let that bother me. It's obvious that, A: She never really knew me before- or took the time to, B: I was so miserable working for her that I just seemed like a dull and boring person and, C: My happiness is much more obvious now.
Subscribe to:
Comments (Atom)