After five years in the same job, at the end of the month I will be transitioning to a new position within the county system. I don’t hate my job - although as with any job, there are frustrations. But it’s not a need to get away that’s driving the change. Rather it’s a question of what’s next? I’m looking forward to the change in focus. While I will still get to use the skills and knowledge that I’ve accumulated throughout the year, I’ll be focusing on different issues that I’ve previously had some experience with but nothing full time. What I am not looking forward to is the transition and all the attention that that brings.
In a Jerry Seinfeld show about a decade ago, during the Q&A, a woman in the audience yelled out that it was her birthday. Seinfeld wished her a happy birthday and asked how old she was. The woman did not reply. So he quipped, “so you like attention just not too much attention.” That has stuck with me because that’s me.
I like attention on my own terms when I’m in the mood. I’m not always in the mood. So all this having to announce that I’m switching jobs and having folks react to it, it’s a lot. And because it’s not exactly a promotion people are asking why I’m leaving the current position. Telling folks who have been doing the same job for a decade (or more) that I don’t hate the job and I just need something different - well, I might as well be telling them I don’t like bacon, brownies or pie. They all seem to elicit the same “I don’t understand what you’re saying” reaction.
So I’m ready to just move on but still have two more weeks to go. Meh.
Posted on 3/10/2022 in Dailies | comments
As the title states, I used to love my birthday.
I don’t anymore.
And no, it isn’t because I’m 13 months away from turning 50. Although, as with anyone that is close to turning fifty, I do find myself wondering, “Well. How did that happen?” Because, yes, inside I feel at most like I’m in my early 20s. Hell, somedays I might bump that down to about 15 and can’t understand why I have so many bills to pay.
But no. The reason for not loving birthdays anymore was the cancer. Admitting that fills me with such a sense of guilt. The fact that I had cancer and was cured of cancer should make me love life, right? Should make me want to celebrate my birthday even more, right?
Before 2015 and the cancer diagnosis, I would count down for weeks until my birthday. I looked forward to the day. Even when most years the actual celebration was me maybe just taking the day off and going to the movies alone. It wasn’t about parties (because I’ve only had a handful of birthday parties in my lifetime) and it wasn’t about the presents - though obviously those are fun to get.
It was just an uncomplicated joy about having a day where I could be happy about it being about me - even if I was the only one who was aware of the day.
While I can pinpoint the change in attitude to the year I was diagnosed with cancer it’s definitely a mystery as to why the change happened. I don’t know the why of it all. I just know that that particular joy is gone. It makes me sad that what used to be a happy (if silly) time of the year has been replaced by a bit of apathy and a lot of guilt. I tell myself it’s okay. After all, there are plenty of people out in the world who don’t care one bit about their birthdays. It certainly isn’t anything to worry about. I’m not depressed. I don’t dislike my life. Maybe not caring about getting older is just what happens when one is closer to the end than the beginning. I could be completely wrong about it being a result of the cancer diagnosis and it this change in attitude might have happened regardless.
There’s no real way to know.
What I know is that I miss that old excitement. And in 7 years, I haven’t quite figured out how to get it back.
Posted on 2/17/2022 in Dailies | comments
While the kiddo was finishing up her dinner I decided to clear off the very cluttered kitchen counters. At one point she asked (in english), “what doing, mami?” Her English is coming along. She still has a broader vocabulary in Spanish but I’m noticing more and more English cropping in and I’m conflicted. On the one hand, great. Obviously. Whatever builds her communication skills is good.
On the other hand, I know from personal experience and from observation that the time will come when she decides English is just easier to use and that pains me. So when she speaks to me in English I respond with the appropriate Spanish phrase and then I continue in Spanish. Usually she switches over fine and we move on.
But she’s digging in on “look”. No matter how many times I say “mire, mami” she will not add it to her vocabulary. I’m fascinated by that. Usually when I do that she listens to the word or phrase, repeats and will start using it w slight prompting. But “look, mami!” seems to be here to stay for the moment.
I don’t know if this is the best way to make her bilingual but it’s the only way I know how so we’re just going to keep stumbling along. My goal is that she learns Spanish so well she starts correcting me at some point. Lord knows I could definitely use the guidance. See this entire post written in English as proof of that.
Posted on 2/6/2022 in Parenting | comments
Earlier in the year I wrote that this would be the year that I finally finished reading The Brothers Karamazov. At the time I felt certain it could be done. “If I read 3-4 pages every day I’ll be done before the year is over!” Well, best laid plans and all that. I keep saying I like the story and that is true but given my atrocious reading habits for the past, well, decade and the fact that we are still living through a pandemic, even just 3 pages of a Russian novel a day has proven to be too ambitious.
Which doesn’t mean I haven’t been reading. As the image shows, I’ve actually surpassed my Goodreads reaching goal for the year. That hasn’t happened since 2015. So reading isn’t the issue. It’s reading something that actually requires the brain to really think that’s the problem. At the end of the day, when I discover that I’ve watched everything there is to watch on Netflix or Hulu, I turn to reading books that flow, that entertain but don’t tax the already overly taxed brain.
The Brothers Karamazov shall have to wait. Maybe next year. See, this is the good thing about books. You can literally shelve them and they never get upset, they don’t complain that you’re neglecting them. They don’t vague tweet or Facebook post about how you’ve ghosted them because you’re a mean mean person. And they smell good. So really there is no downside to books. You heard that here first. I’m sure.
Posted on 10/17/2021 in Books | comments