ahhhh...two days of peace

It's been just about exactly 8 months since I left my job in Huntsville and ventured to the big city.  I have so enjoyed living here that I know it will be very hard to leave whenever I do move back "home" to Alabama.  My enjoyment, however, has been in 2-day per week pieces.  The other 5 days of each week are less than stellar, and put such a damper on the whole experience.

To say I haven't exactly enjoyed my job is somewhat of an understatement.  There have been times in the past 6 months or so that I've actually tried to calculate what it would cost me to leave it.  If I leave the company within a year of relocation, I have to pay back the cost (prorated).  The benefits with Navistar are really good, and beginning 2011 I will have 4 weeks of vacation per year.  4 weeks.  Hard to beat.

There's also my lease on the condo which is locked in through April.  And I love it, and I love living here.  So what to do?  Actually, what I did a couple of months ago was sit down with my boss and tell him straight up how unhappy I was.  He was sympathetic and understanding and willing to do whatever I felt it would take to make things better.  It all boils down to a couple of points:  a) I was never given a job description, and I was never truly interviewed for the position in particular, and b) I am completely and utterly not qualified for the job.  I had no knowledge of the area that my job covers, but felt tremendous pressure to know it and do it and be perfect from day 1.

My predecessor is still with the company, and actually just moved to a different position in the same department, yet, I got no help or guidance from him of what I should be doing and how.  And to top it all off, I was not the only one who was new to the department - my immediate boss came in at the same time from another division, and was learning the ropes, and my counterpart in the department was also new to her position and very young and green and struggling.

After my discussion with the bossman, he learned some things that helped make sense of the situation.  One was that my predecessor did not have any help or knowledge of the job when it was thrust on him, so he had to learn everything the hard way, and thought I should too.  Gee, thanks.  Another was that he really had no idea of my background or what I expected, and assumed that I had been interviewed and chosen for the job based on qualifications.  Wrong.  I even said I didn't want it, but was enticed by the promise of being involved in other areas also and broadening my knowledge.  That had not happened because I also was short one person on my staff.

All of those things jumbled together have made for a tough time, and something I've really not wanted to document or discuss - but it is part of my experience here, and I want to document at least something about the whole of my experience.  Things are better - with time, I've learned more and am feeling more comfortable with the tasks set before me.  I've had support from my boss and from others who know my work and capabilities.  And hopefully I can work toward restoring my reputation and status within the company as a valuable asset, which I feel has been tarnished (unfairly) by my slow start.

At the very least, I now feel I can manage through the remaining time that I'm here, however long that may be.  The coming new year may bring many changes and opportunities, and I just need to take as much advantage of them as I can.  It's hard some days to drum up any level of excitement about going into work, but overall, I can do it.  Besides, they actually pay me pretty well and have given me this chance to step outside my comfort zone and test myself.  Everything about it can be a positive for me going forward...as long as I treat it as the adventure it is and not take it too seriously.

Plus, I have those two wonderful days each week to relax, recharge, and release the frustrations of the previous 5 days.  Weekends are a gift from the gods to combat the demons of work.

okay, i'm not 20 anymore...

If I'm still 20 in my head, why will my body not just give in and go along with it??

Last Saturday was the SEC championship game between Auburn and South Carolina.  Being the Auburn alumni and fan that I am, the game was an exciting time as we try to make the National Championship game for the first time.  Now, ever since forever, it's been my little tradition to jump around and sing the fight song when Auburn scores.  Never have given it a thought.  Seth and Lacy are very familiar with my little dance and have seen it numerous times, even joined in on occasion (but mostly laughed at me).

For some bizarre reason that is beyond me, providence took offense at my dance and choose at that moment to remind me that this is not proper behavior for a grown woman of a certain age.  I heard a loud pop or snap or crack that definitely wasn't Rice Krispies.  At the same time felt as though I'd been shot in the back of my leg.  I've never actually been shot, but I'm pretty darn sure that's how it would feel.

Of course, I'm down, wondering what the hell was that, and not believing that something actually tore in my leg.  I've always heard that you can hear when a tendon snaps, so my immediate thought was my Achillies, given that it was at the base of my calf.  Actually, after visiting an Orthopedist on Tuesday, learned that (evidently) I ruptured my calf muscle, basically where the tendon connects to the muscle.  This was the doctor's expert diagnosis, although he took no X-rays, did no MRI, and actually did little but look at my leg which looks like a normal leg.  I'm trusting that, given he is a specialist, he knows whereof he speaks.

So I acquired a contraption that looks like a Stormtrooper boot, and was told to wear it for, oh, 3-4 weeks.  The tear will heal on it's own.  How we know this without some sort of closer examination, I'm not sure, but I have to trust that it will heal and all will be well again in time for the National Championship game, when I will refrain from my traditional dance.  I am in luck, however, that it is my left leg, and I gave up on manual transmissions a couple of years ago, so driving is not a problem.

All-in-all, I'm okay with the injury.  Not much I can do but be okay.  I'm very thankful that it was not worse, as it was enough of a chore to tend to myself living alone and hobbling around the house.  And thank you, Target, for having Bertolli frozen dinners on sale the week before.  Without that "buy 4, get one free" deal, I would have had nothing but mac n cheese and field peas to eat.  I did have to reuse my last coffee filter a couple of times, but at least I had coffee.  That could have been a major disaster!

So, after over-doing it a bit the rest of the week, I'm determined to take care of the leg and listen to my body and not think I'm superwoman.  I can't make it go away, or heal any faster, but I can delay the healing by straining it as I've done a few times.  Beside, I have a couple of good books, ingredients for some taco soup, and the forecast is for rain-turning-to-snow.  I have the city out my window, plenty of on-line Christmas shopping to do, yarn to knit, card games to play, and enough peace of mind to be happy doing any of these things.

I seriously doubt I would be able to manage that kind of contentment at 20, so I guess there's a bonus to being "of a certain age".  It brings an ability to enjoy, even relish, simpler things and having time or occasion to do them.  As long as the 20-year-old in my head doesn't start trying to take over, I'll be fine.

let it snow??

There is no secret as to the trepidation I feel regarding driving on frozen roads.  My idea of how this should be done on I290 at 6:00 p.m. any weekday is to outfit all the vehicles with foam rubber front and back and let everyone join bumpers in a friendly sort of way, each pushing the other along to their respective exits.  This would be so much more civil than moshpit skiing on four wheels.

Regardless, the day is coming soon that I will join the moshpit, hoping to stay on the fringe and not end up in a stage dive into the fray.  That day is not today, though.  Today I woke up to a lovely blanket of white on all of my now-familiar rooftops, water tanks, and deck gardens.  I had imagined snow in nice big fluffy flakes floating freely and framing fresh footprints far below.  Okay, I ran out of f's.

Today's snow is fine flurries (sorry) much like I would see in Alabama but that never amounted to anything more than a tease of snow cream and closed schools.  Here the tiny flurries fall thick and fast and constantly, ever so slowly adding nths of layers to the batting already covering the city.  By day's end, accumulation will be measured in inches, and hopefully by Monday, it will be mostly a memory.

The fine white stuff also is not making for too much of a problem on the streets.  It's not cold enough to cause buildup on the wet roads, at least in the city.  I know, however, that this has to be an anomaly, and that most other snow I see this winter will be be less likely to offer this sense of security and safety.  At the moment, I can just sit here and enjoy the view, in awe of the obvious magnitude of tiny flakes continuously wafting down from the sky and creating a sheer-curtain effect as I look out.  It reminds me of a perfectly clear, cold night in rural Alabama when you look up and suddenly find that the sky is almost completely covered in tiny twinkling lights; so many that you have to wonder where they've all been until then, knowing they've been right there, just not as visible.

I'll enjoy this first snow, knowing I can do that without trepidation.  The only thing I have to worry about is busting my butt when I go out walking in it.  At least I'll find out just how good my new fuzzy winter boots are.

focus shift

Well, I've not totally abandoned my little diary of city life.  I have, however, shifted focus a little.  In light of family expansion, I finally have started trying to document a little history of my family life with  stories I remember from growing up, and stories of Seth and Lacy in their early years.  I always enjoyed sitting around the table after a holiday dinner, listening to daddy and granddaddy and papa tell the same stories I had heard many times, but that never got old.  Some I only remember the gist of the story but not the names of the characters.  Some were closer to home, involving family members along the way.

My favorites seem to be the ones that had to have been humiliating to the poor soul who was the subject of the joke, but that were just too funny not to enjoy.  Like the guy who thought a mouse had run up his overalls.  He grabbed the wad, took a pocket knife and cut a big hole, only to find he had just cut his chewing tobacco out of his pocket.  Or my cousin who got the "snipe hunting" joke played on him.  You could hear the echo through the woods....clang, clang, clang...."here snipe".

I know everyone has those stories; funny, poignant, history-documenting stories about their heritage.  Some are passed through the generations, but most are probably lost along the way.  I hope that by writing out what I can remember, and maybe enlisting the help of other family members, I can have something to present my children and grandchildren that will provide a sense of where they come from.  Where they come from may be less distinguished or wealthy, and more simple and country, but none-the-less, it's a heritage of strong family values and love, spoken or not.  And I'll guarantee the stories are better.  :)

rain and the city

I've been lax in keeping my little diary up lately.  Work has been a bitch, and it's typically 7:30 or later when I get home.  That makes for a 12+ hour day and I feel like doing very little by the time I pull into the garage.  I didn't even try on the new boots I had ordered online until the weekend - they sat in my living room for 4 whole days.  Seriously, that's a little scary.

The past couple of weekends have been nice and sunny and not even very cool.  Still, I've not been out much; between being tired from the week and stressed from the job in general, motivation is hard to come by.  I've been wishing I had a good excuse to be so lazy, like a rainy day that just forces you to lay around and read or watch old movies, napping in and out.  Well, today I have it, and I don't want to stay in.  I need to get my motivation level in sync with the weather.  I hate when it's off like this.

Despite the rain, I fully intend to hop on the Brown line and rock 'n' roll up to Wrigleyville.  I'm sure it will be a small group at Messner's for the game, but I really want to get out before it's too cold to justify walking even 4 blocks when you don't have to.  Plus, my bud Muddy is in town and I promised I'd be up there in case he survives the Northwestern/Michigan State game.  Hopefully it won't be a monsoon just as I leave the house - but my luck is against that.

It doesn't rain here a lot, so I'm wondering how it can snow so much in the winter.  I'm sure it's just my anxious anticipation that has Chicago continually white (or gray) throughout the winter, when it's probably only a few days altogether.  This winter is supposed to be "average", which according to weather.com means the average low for December and January will be 16, but the average precipitation for both months is about 2".  Which reminds me - I need to look for seat warmers and a new battery.

Rain in the city doesn't seem to slow things down very much.  Road traffic is still constant, although foot traffic not so much.  The city isn't as impressive - the mostly-glass buildings become gray just like the mostly-concrete or steel buildings.  You can't see the top of the tallest, and you can't see as far.  I guess the thing that I miss about rain, though, is I don't hear it on the roof.  I can't open the door and hear it playing on the tree leaves like cymbals, I never, ever see red mud, and it never seems to rain straight down.  Surprise.

So the longer I sit here the less appealing it becomes to get out, so I'd better do before that motivation meter starts sinking toward low.  Besides, it's not going to rain forever - it's sure to be over by the time I head back home.  As long as I don't leave Messner's at half-time.

War Eagle - every week gets more intense when you're undefeated.  Especially when it's 2 undefeated teams playing each other.  Especially when you never expected to make it this far with a 0 in the loss column.  And especially when you've been here before and walked away with nothing (see 1957, 1993, and 2004).  Still, it's fun to have something to be excited about every Saturday for 3 months. :)

thugs in the night

Heard on the news this morning that there have been a rash (a rash?  exactly what is a rash?  what number of a thing do you have to get to before it can officially be a rash?) of muggings or beatings or robberies - I guess they're all muggings - in this normally safe part of town.  These attacks didn't happen in dark alleyways or unlit street corners.  They happened out in the open, albeit at night, in heavy-traffic areas.  One in particular that caught my attention was the robbery of a doctor at the corner of Michigan Ave and Superior.  That is a corner I know well, and in fact, walked through just this weekend with Lacy and friends.

One thing that I love about my neighborhood among the highscrapers is that I have always felt safe.  I can't say that I'd go strolling at 2a.m. but generally, in the daytime, and even early evening, I feel perfectly safe.  There is a lot of traffic at all times, there are very few unseemly characters lurking about, and there are always people walking within shouting distance.

It's a part of town that is in town without actually being in the concrete jungle itself, so to speak.  Four blocks to the south is the river, and on the other side of that is the real commercial district; where executives execute during the weekday, where the buildings are less residential and more financial, where there's a Starbucks literally on every corner rather than every third corner.  It's a part of town that is full of condos and apartments and restaurants and hotels and tourists.  And it's the part that is probably the safest area of the "downtown" area.

I hate that recent events have taken some of that away, and I pray that it's a fluke, a coincidence that a "rash" of these events happened within a few days of each other.  I hope that it does not signal the end of one of the few safe havens in this town.  Still, for now, I guess I have to be more careful about going out after dark, and more cautious even in the daylight.  I do love this city, and still feel it's one of the cleanest and safest I've ever been in.  I still have faith that it will stay that way.

Maybe they'll put more of those cute Segway cops patrolling around here.

i've learned

If you're going to drive in Chicago on a Monday night when the Bears are playing at home, there's no sense in being in a hurry.
When the sky is clear and the sun has just set, the orange and peach and cream and blue is the same here as in Alabama.
Sharing a few days in my world with people I love and am familiar with leaves a lingering level of comfort that keeps me warm and safe.
It's not so much that I'm more adaptable than I expected, it's that anyone comfortable with themselves can adapt more easily.
The antenna lights on the Sears/Willis tower (or just "the tower") can cause support for most anything just by changing color.
You need good brakes and a horn to drive around here.
It's hard to be homesick for a place when you no longer have a home there.
It's easy to be homesick for people and events regardless of where you are.
Lacy makes a mean chocolate martini.
312 is an area code, not a number.
ZoCAlo is pronounced ZOcalo.
People over 30 are more friendly than people in their 20's.  At least to older people.
You can always find something you can't live without at Marshall's.
Joy can come from the most unexpected places at the most unexpected times.
There is such a thing as a "benign tremor".  Yes, tremor.
The smell of the chocolate factory across the river is exactly like the chocolate gravy my mother used to make.
When they say it's the first day of Autumn, in some parts of the world, it actually feels like it.

And, that....it's an effect of growing up in a small town that when you walk outdoors in the afternoon and the air has a certain coolness, freshness, and the shadows are long, you feel like you're supposed to be headed to a football game.  I will forever be ingrained with that feeling.  It takes me back to the excitement of putting on the band or cheerleader uniform and heading to the high school field where the fans are pouring in and the popcorn is popping in the concession stand and you know the hot chocolate is so hot it will slosh and burn your hand and the majorettes sparkle and the shoulder pads smash together with that familiar clack and for a couple of hours, you're in a different world.  I can't walk outside on those certain clear Autumn afternoons without being transported to that world.