It’s hard to believe my temp job is winding down. I have three more full weeks of work, and during the last week I’ll take Friday off to go to my college reunion. I’ll come back on Monday and release my section (something I do every Monday) and then, who knows? I might stay the whole week and get some small task, or they may tell me to hit the road, Jack. I have two paydays left not including the one I get tomorrow. And not including the one I get after I leave, so I guess I should count that one. But still.
How has it been? It’s been good, in a lot of ways. I’ve worked VERY hard (I stayed two hours late last Friday, and I’m not hourly – well, I am but I’m not. Gah, it’s complicated). I feel a sense of accomplishment. Since I left my job at the yarn barn in 2009, I’ve not had that feeling. Barnes and Noble was a gulag, and the annuity firm was so easy I could have done it in my sleep. We won’t count anything after that! I’m doing hard, detail-oriented work and getting paid WHAT I DESERVE. I work in a building where I am not afraid to sit on the toilet seats. Where there’s a full cafeteria with lovely employees and good, nourishing food. I sit at a desk and listen to my iPod while I work all day.
HOWEVER. There’s no denying a lot of the long-time employees are little whinging babies who bitch and moan about everything, all while doing very little work. Some of these people come in at 10 a.m. and leave at 4 p.m. It must be nice to work bankers’ hours, I wouldn’t know. I have worked places where, frankly, the boss stood at the door with a cell phone clock checking that you didn’t walk out ONE MINUTE early. So you’ll understand that I come in at 8:30 everyday and leave after 5 p.m. It’s just how I am.
And there’s also no denying that what I’m doing is putting together the society pages. When I go to my college reunion and everyone asks what I’ve been doing recently and I say, “Oh, putting together the Palm Beach society pages for the paper,” there will be a hush of shock. Even more so than when they found out about the knitting. I am the last person you would think would be doing this. And if I’m being honest, I have a lot of cynicism and contempt for these people and their checkbook charity. Is it misguided? Is it from my natural distaste with authority and dislike for rich white people? Was I just offended with the cover I had to put together with Paris Hilton sitting next to a kitten? Don’t ask. There were so many pussy jokes I could have told, but I zipped it!
But those are my issues. And there’s also the fact that I’m not “the face” of the section. The two pretty younger girls are. So, while I do all the grunt work….well, you get it. But again, I’m getting paid a very good wage. So, what happens next? Do I get called back in the fall? Do I want to? I think I do, if only because I need that money, and working for seven months I’d make as much as I did in a full year at my last steady job. Seriously. But that’s IF. Stay tuned. I just don’t know.
So, I attempt to make it to October on my savings. Which is not much. I am going to give my car to my husband to use for the summer. His is falling apart and guzzles gas like a 1991 Nissan SUV tends to. If I can have it one day a week, that’s fine – unless I get another temp job…..
Staying at home is what I want to do. I am not antisocial. I am not agoraphobic. But I am a homebody, and an introvert who enjoys being alone. I have a gym here that I can use for free. I have some weight I need to lose that CLEARLY didn’t come off before the reunion in three weeks, so fuck it. I have the whole summer! I have books and books and books to read. I have plenty of movies in the Netflix queue. I have a pussy (much like Paris!) I want to spend the summer with. He is 14 years old this July, and I need to spend time with my sweet Ringo.
I need to figure out how not to sweat the small stuff while not reading How Not to Sweat the Small Stuff. I need to thrift shop, but buy little. I need to decide if I want to vend this fall at Stitch Rock (I do). I need to rethink my vending presentation. I need to sew some more. And organize. And sell some yarn, and yarn books. It’s time to let a lot of it GO, and free myself in the process. I need to design, but only if I feel inspired.
While I haven’t talked about it, I’ve had a shitty few weeks. A car accident I’d rather not go into (maybe later). Neighbors downstairs complaining I do too much laundry on the weekends. Because I guess they’re just so entitled and non-working that it BOTHERS their delicate sensibility.
But I will be okay. I just need May to regroup.
BTW, The World Figure Skating Championships were last weekend, not that you’d know it. Sigh. It’s a sad thing the way they’ve killed my sport. But here’s the picture of the Ice Dance top three. Please to notice Nathalie Pechalat’s face, on the far right. My husband and I got into it a few weeks ago because he claimed “You just can’t fake it, not even for a moment, can you?” We were at a ballpark and there was an entitled old white man I got into it with. As one does. Well, he’s right. I can’t. And neither can poor Nathalie. All those years and she and Fabian have but two world bronze medals. Beaten by the baby Italians in their last event, ever. They should have retired like they said they would after the Olympics. No one needs that much disappointment! Oh, well.
As The Skating Lesson said on Facebook, will we ever see anything this gloriously French again? I don’t think so. It helps if you’ve read The Little Prince. Believe me, this program confuses some people. Ah Fabian, I will miss you and your sexy pants. You are now, and forever, my Michael Fassbender sur le patinage!