Crisp leaves. Changing colors. Cooler temps. These things just don't appeal to me like they do to other people. I remember living in Connecticut and people raving about how great the foliage there was. Sure, there were about two weeks (if it didn't rain too much) of beautiful leaves.You know what happened after that? All the leaves fell off the trees, turned brown, and then it proceeded to be fucking freezing cold for the next six months.
Forgive my wretched mood. The beginning of September brings immense amounts of dread for this girl. It means weeks upon weeks of work travel, which unfailingly causes me to have a breakdown and to get sick. Every. Single. Year. I have done my very best to limit my travel, but there are a lot of trips I just can't avoid. The fall is when shit gets done, and I have to be there if I want to be part of the conversation, even if it's taking place in Colorado or Texas or New Jersey. Why everyone can't just move on down to North Carolina remains a mystery to me.
I fault my upbringing for this mostly. I lived in the same house from age 3 until I left for college. Since then I've practically moved every year, but I've never been good at having my routine interrupted. Also, my family didn't take many trips because we couldn't afford it. A vacation in our world was driving the hour and a half up to Beaufort, SC and staying in the Days Inn to watch my brother play in a soccer tournament. I did love the powdered donuts at the Shoney's breakfast buffet though. That was something at least. I realize that even those getaways were a luxury compared to most other people's lives, but they sure didn't adequately prepare me for a job of jet-setting.
I spent the weekend doing my best to get ready for this stretch of being gone. I did some shopping, stocked up on work essentials, paid my estimated taxes, took donations to Goodwill, and cleared out our junk drawer. I figured the more organized I feel now, the less anxious I will feel being away from home. In some ways, I think it had the opposite effect. I kept saying to myself, "This is the ONLY opportunity you have to do all of this shit!" It was motivating, but also anxiety-building. This morning I woke up with a knot in my stomach.
I know I can do this. I know it will be fine once I get going. The anticipation is always worse than the thing itself, right?
Showing posts with label Work. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Work. Show all posts
The Ghosts of a Job Past
When I first started this blog in the summer of 2009, I was preparing to move to DC and begin a new life. What I never really bothered to mention was what I was leaving, in particular a job that I absolutely despised.
Like most just-out-of-school jobs, mine was crappy for normal reasons: a long-commute, low pay, little creative freedom, and post-academia life confusion. But, on top of that I had the meanest, most manipulative, self-absorbed, deluded psycho of a boss, who seemed to really enjoy making my life miserable. About a month before my departure (and no other job lined up at the time), we had a major blow-up after she mocked something I'd worked hard on. I told her that I absolutely hated coming to work everyday.
Now, a few years later, I realize that it was in part my immaturity that made my job so miserable. But, since leaving that organization, I've seen how my former boss continues to alienate and manipulate her way through her professional life. She and I are on mostly pleasant terms, and she even invites me to participate in some events together. As it turns out, I'm becoming an important player in the field, and I work for a powerful organization. She keeps me in the loop because she needs to. I keep her at a safe, but friendly arm's length if you know what I mean. I feel I'm too early in my career to be burning bridges, even if they're with people I'd rather not cross over to see.
But now, I'm not so sure. I got a truly hysterical email from my old boss, claiming financial ruin and begging for money--and that it was, of course, someone else's fault. As it turns out, the someone else is a dear colleague, and I couldn't believe that this was the whole story. More details have come out since then, and I am finding myself more and more upset that she's throwing this person under the bus. I don't know what is true and what is a lie, but she has stooped to an all-time low to benefit herself.
It's tough to be looped into all of this, and be in the midst of the noise of it all. She's blowing up Twitter, Facebook, the Internet with this stuff, and I just want nothing to do with it. Eventually, I decided to write her a short "I'm sorry" email and let it go. But her requests for money kept coming in, and I started to feel badly for her staff whose jobs are on the line. Finally, I sent her a small donation this morning just to have some peace of mind. It's tax-deductible, and it's money I could afford to give.
I feel a little better now. But most of all, I'm saddened by this implosion in our community. There aren't many people doing what we're doing, and to feel it crumbling apart from the inside is truly a sad thing. I'm just thankful I got out of there, and that for now, I have peace in my job.
Like most just-out-of-school jobs, mine was crappy for normal reasons: a long-commute, low pay, little creative freedom, and post-academia life confusion. But, on top of that I had the meanest, most manipulative, self-absorbed, deluded psycho of a boss, who seemed to really enjoy making my life miserable. About a month before my departure (and no other job lined up at the time), we had a major blow-up after she mocked something I'd worked hard on. I told her that I absolutely hated coming to work everyday.
Now, a few years later, I realize that it was in part my immaturity that made my job so miserable. But, since leaving that organization, I've seen how my former boss continues to alienate and manipulate her way through her professional life. She and I are on mostly pleasant terms, and she even invites me to participate in some events together. As it turns out, I'm becoming an important player in the field, and I work for a powerful organization. She keeps me in the loop because she needs to. I keep her at a safe, but friendly arm's length if you know what I mean. I feel I'm too early in my career to be burning bridges, even if they're with people I'd rather not cross over to see.
But now, I'm not so sure. I got a truly hysterical email from my old boss, claiming financial ruin and begging for money--and that it was, of course, someone else's fault. As it turns out, the someone else is a dear colleague, and I couldn't believe that this was the whole story. More details have come out since then, and I am finding myself more and more upset that she's throwing this person under the bus. I don't know what is true and what is a lie, but she has stooped to an all-time low to benefit herself.
It's tough to be looped into all of this, and be in the midst of the noise of it all. She's blowing up Twitter, Facebook, the Internet with this stuff, and I just want nothing to do with it. Eventually, I decided to write her a short "I'm sorry" email and let it go. But her requests for money kept coming in, and I started to feel badly for her staff whose jobs are on the line. Finally, I sent her a small donation this morning just to have some peace of mind. It's tax-deductible, and it's money I could afford to give.
I feel a little better now. But most of all, I'm saddened by this implosion in our community. There aren't many people doing what we're doing, and to feel it crumbling apart from the inside is truly a sad thing. I'm just thankful I got out of there, and that for now, I have peace in my job.
Remembering the Girl
I don't often talk about my work on this blog, but in all the excitment about my engagement, I've been thinking about how this new stage of my life informs my work advocating for improved maternal health globally. At first glance, they don't seem all that related, but I'm beginning to see the connections more clealy.
I'm 28-years-old. I finished college, graduate school, and have been gainfully employed since graduation. I've been able to travel the country and parts of the world for work and pleasure. I've moved several times. I've been in several long-term relationships that haven't ended in marriage. In general, I've had freedom and opportunity to grow personally and professionally, and to decide when I was ready that I wanted to find a long-term partner to marry. And together we'll decide if and when we want children.
Nearly all of this has been possible because of where I was born.
When I talk about improving maternal health globally, I'm talking about women my age--and girls much younger. I'm talking about girls who aren'table to go to school after eighth grade because their families can't afford it. I'm talking about girls who get married before they're eighteen because their families need dowries to survive. They go on to have several children before they turn twenty because they aren't able to negotiate sex, and they don't have access to contraceptives. And 356,000 die every year giving birth.
I remember dancing with the women in Malawi after they'd graduated from tailoring school. Their husbands were so very proud, and their little ones were excitedly running around, proud to don the beautiful dresses and suits their mothers had made. When I asked them if they were excited to find work selling their creations, they told me with sadness that they couldn't afford their own sewing machines. So, they'd worked hard to learn these skills, but had no way to practice them.
All of this because of where they were born.
It's overwhelming, and easy to get caught up in the guilt of privilege and opportunity. But I won't stay there. This afternoon I'll be speaking to a group of fifty eager activitsts who want to learn how they can help. We'll be making maternal health kits and writing letters to Congress. And I'll be making a microloan on Kiva to support small local projects that can make a huge difference in people's lives. I encourage you to do the same. There are more than fifty opportunities to support sewing projects around the world.
I'm 28-years-old. I finished college, graduate school, and have been gainfully employed since graduation. I've been able to travel the country and parts of the world for work and pleasure. I've moved several times. I've been in several long-term relationships that haven't ended in marriage. In general, I've had freedom and opportunity to grow personally and professionally, and to decide when I was ready that I wanted to find a long-term partner to marry. And together we'll decide if and when we want children.
Nearly all of this has been possible because of where I was born.
When I talk about improving maternal health globally, I'm talking about women my age--and girls much younger. I'm talking about girls who aren'table to go to school after eighth grade because their families can't afford it. I'm talking about girls who get married before they're eighteen because their families need dowries to survive. They go on to have several children before they turn twenty because they aren't able to negotiate sex, and they don't have access to contraceptives. And 356,000 die every year giving birth.
I remember dancing with the women in Malawi after they'd graduated from tailoring school. Their husbands were so very proud, and their little ones were excitedly running around, proud to don the beautiful dresses and suits their mothers had made. When I asked them if they were excited to find work selling their creations, they told me with sadness that they couldn't afford their own sewing machines. So, they'd worked hard to learn these skills, but had no way to practice them.
All of this because of where they were born.
It's overwhelming, and easy to get caught up in the guilt of privilege and opportunity. But I won't stay there. This afternoon I'll be speaking to a group of fifty eager activitsts who want to learn how they can help. We'll be making maternal health kits and writing letters to Congress. And I'll be making a microloan on Kiva to support small local projects that can make a huge difference in people's lives. I encourage you to do the same. There are more than fifty opportunities to support sewing projects around the world.
We're Flying First Class
No, I'm not that Fergalicious. But I do fly a crazy amount for work, so much so that I'm now Silver Preferred on US Airways.
It's funny that free checked bags are a perk now. Remember when they were free for everyone? Well, now if I want to check something, I can do it for free. Just like five years ago. Even better, I get to board earlier, which means I won't have to check my bag because I'll get to stow my bag before all of the assholes with their giant-ass bags take up all the room. (I promise, I have a very small carry-on, and if we're on the same flight, I would be happy to assist you in shoving your oversized bag into the bin.)
But best of all? Complimentary upgrades! Just yesterday I got an email saying that I'd gotten upgraded to first class on my flight back from DC. I'm in seat 1A. 1A! The first seat on the plane! Perhaps I'm overly excited by this, but if you fly as much as I do, you'll understand that this is something worth celebrating.
Maybe this will make me hate US Airways a little bit less now for losing my bag every time I fly.
It's funny that free checked bags are a perk now. Remember when they were free for everyone? Well, now if I want to check something, I can do it for free. Just like five years ago. Even better, I get to board earlier, which means I won't have to check my bag because I'll get to stow my bag before all of the assholes with their giant-ass bags take up all the room. (I promise, I have a very small carry-on, and if we're on the same flight, I would be happy to assist you in shoving your oversized bag into the bin.)
But best of all? Complimentary upgrades! Just yesterday I got an email saying that I'd gotten upgraded to first class on my flight back from DC. I'm in seat 1A. 1A! The first seat on the plane! Perhaps I'm overly excited by this, but if you fly as much as I do, you'll understand that this is something worth celebrating.
Maybe this will make me hate US Airways a little bit less now for losing my bag every time I fly.
Living Together Separately
I've got a list of blog topics all prepared in my head, and yet the break-neck speed of the last three weeks has kept me from doing much about it. Yesterday I left NC at 6 am for a day of meetings and catching up with DC blogger amigas Date Me, D.C.! (with whom I'd just spent an awesome weekend), Sassy Marmalade, Bless Your Heart, and A Single Girl before heading back to NC at 10 pm. This morning was basically the same, only this time Carolina Man was the one heading out of town. Bleary-eyed, we did the exact same early morning kiss good-bye we'd done yesterday.
A lot of people have asked me how it's going living here. I've said that it's going really well, which it is. But I also don't feel like I have of time under my belt to say with confidence that it's going as well as I feel like it is. This has been our timeline thus far:
Aug 20--Move Day
Aug 24-28--Work trip to Ohio
Aug 31--CM's dad and brother arrive
Sept 2-4--CM, dad, and brother go to beach
Sept 6--Dad, brother go home; I go to DC
Sept 7-8--CM goes to Philadelphia
In short, we have hardly spent any time together alone at our house. Nothing about my schedule has changed, and he's just as busy as I am. I'd mapped all of this out before I moved and said, "We need to realize that just because NC will my home base doesn't mean we'll be together all the time." It's been especially tough on me when CM is gone because I haven't exactly had much time to make friends, so I end up doing a lot solo, which is tough on an extrovert like me. I know I'll make friends--I always do. But living in a new place is tough, no matter how good the circumstances are. And it's been even tougher to have spent so much of the transition apart.
In making travel plans for work, I'd never really had to consider someone else. I was fine with booking trips back-to-back, running myself into the ground repeatedly, and taking a random day off in the middle of the week to catch up on sleep. But being in a relationship is different. I've got to become more discriminating when it comes to offering up my weekends because when we miss a weekend together, there's no time to be lazy and just enjoy each other's company.
So, I can't wait for this weekend when we'll both be here and can get some quality time together. We need it.
A lot of people have asked me how it's going living here. I've said that it's going really well, which it is. But I also don't feel like I have of time under my belt to say with confidence that it's going as well as I feel like it is. This has been our timeline thus far:
Aug 20--Move Day
Aug 24-28--Work trip to Ohio
Aug 31--CM's dad and brother arrive
Sept 2-4--CM, dad, and brother go to beach
Sept 6--Dad, brother go home; I go to DC
Sept 7-8--CM goes to Philadelphia
In short, we have hardly spent any time together alone at our house. Nothing about my schedule has changed, and he's just as busy as I am. I'd mapped all of this out before I moved and said, "We need to realize that just because NC will my home base doesn't mean we'll be together all the time." It's been especially tough on me when CM is gone because I haven't exactly had much time to make friends, so I end up doing a lot solo, which is tough on an extrovert like me. I know I'll make friends--I always do. But living in a new place is tough, no matter how good the circumstances are. And it's been even tougher to have spent so much of the transition apart.
In making travel plans for work, I'd never really had to consider someone else. I was fine with booking trips back-to-back, running myself into the ground repeatedly, and taking a random day off in the middle of the week to catch up on sleep. But being in a relationship is different. I've got to become more discriminating when it comes to offering up my weekends because when we miss a weekend together, there's no time to be lazy and just enjoy each other's company.
So, I can't wait for this weekend when we'll both be here and can get some quality time together. We need it.
Too Good to Be True?
At 4:45 today I was annoyed to get a call from my project's funder, asking if we could push our last minute meeting (which they had called) back by another half hour. Just last week I'd managed to squeeze in their request, and now they were asking me to change it at the very last moment. I was irritated, to say the least.
That is, until they said they wanted to offer us full funding for another year. And that if we wanted more funding just to ask for it. They have it for us, and they want us to "think big."
What. The. Fuck.
This is unheard of. Funders don't just call you up and say, "Hey, we'd like to give you some money. You don't have to fill out any forms. You aren't competing with anyone else for it. We'd just like to offer you job security for another twelve months."
Seriously. What. The. Fuck.
Granted, I've worked my ass off for the last 18 months, and we've done really excellent work. I'm not surprised that we got additional funding at all. What I am surprised about is we didn't even have to ask.
This is blowing my mind. How is it that all of these good things are happening to me, and I'm not even having to ask for them? They are just happening. Without my help. Without my pleading. Without my die-hard determination to get what I want.
I keep waiting for the shoe to drop. Surely things can't be this good. I'd grown so accustomed to things being shitty that this sudden turnaround seems way too good to be true. After I said this to my boss several times today, she said, "You've got to stop saying that." And I realized, it was just the fear talking.
Maybe things really can be this good, at least for awhile.
The Plot
She won't call it a set up, but that's exactly what it is.
The first time my supervisor L talked to me about her stepson was last September. I had just gone through my second break-up with SCL and had begun dating Dr. Nutrition a few weeks earlier. She described him as the funniest person and the best listener she'd ever met. And he was newly single.
When L threw a surprise retirement party for her husband back in December, she'd been sure that the stepson and I had the opportunity to spend some time together. She was right; he was funny. I couldn't tell about the good listener part as we only spent a few minutes together, but I got a good feeling from him. He lives in North Carolina, and when I mentioned I was thinking about moving there, he told me to let him know if I went through with it, and that he'd be my friend.
I pretty much thought was the end of that. I'd eventually decided to stick it out in DC and try to put a new life together there. It wasn't going to do me any good to fantasize about a life in NC, especially not with a man I didn't really know. But then last week on our way to Malawi, L asked if I wanted to come spend the last weekend in June with them while her husband's son was visiting.
Whenever she talks about him, I get this embarrassed grin on my face. I'm flattered that she thinks we'd made a good match. And I absolutely love the idea of potentially being in their family. Obviously that's not enough to constitute a relationship, but it's certainly not a bad place to start. Already having a loving relationship with potential future-in-laws puts me in a better position than I ever was dating SCL, whose parents treated me incredibly unfairly.
Despite all the potential good things that could come of this, there are a lot of potential not-so-good things, too. First of all, it's sort of mixing romance with work. Second, I'm still raw from what happened last week. I'm not sure I'm in the place to give someone new a chance. But after thinking it over (and L assuring me there was no pressure), I decided that it's not that big of a risk. If nothing else, it'll be a weekend of home-cooked meals and peach mojitos. So, what the hell? I got a ticket and we'll see what happens.
One other interesting thing about this guy: I have dated and/or had a crush on every Gospel writer name...except for one. A few years ago, I decided I'd eventually meet a man with the final name and marry him. And the stepson just happens to have that name.
The first time my supervisor L talked to me about her stepson was last September. I had just gone through my second break-up with SCL and had begun dating Dr. Nutrition a few weeks earlier. She described him as the funniest person and the best listener she'd ever met. And he was newly single.
When L threw a surprise retirement party for her husband back in December, she'd been sure that the stepson and I had the opportunity to spend some time together. She was right; he was funny. I couldn't tell about the good listener part as we only spent a few minutes together, but I got a good feeling from him. He lives in North Carolina, and when I mentioned I was thinking about moving there, he told me to let him know if I went through with it, and that he'd be my friend.
I pretty much thought was the end of that. I'd eventually decided to stick it out in DC and try to put a new life together there. It wasn't going to do me any good to fantasize about a life in NC, especially not with a man I didn't really know. But then last week on our way to Malawi, L asked if I wanted to come spend the last weekend in June with them while her husband's son was visiting.
Whenever she talks about him, I get this embarrassed grin on my face. I'm flattered that she thinks we'd made a good match. And I absolutely love the idea of potentially being in their family. Obviously that's not enough to constitute a relationship, but it's certainly not a bad place to start. Already having a loving relationship with potential future-in-laws puts me in a better position than I ever was dating SCL, whose parents treated me incredibly unfairly.
Despite all the potential good things that could come of this, there are a lot of potential not-so-good things, too. First of all, it's sort of mixing romance with work. Second, I'm still raw from what happened last week. I'm not sure I'm in the place to give someone new a chance. But after thinking it over (and L assuring me there was no pressure), I decided that it's not that big of a risk. If nothing else, it'll be a weekend of home-cooked meals and peach mojitos. So, what the hell? I got a ticket and we'll see what happens.
One other interesting thing about this guy: I have dated and/or had a crush on every Gospel writer name...except for one. A few years ago, I decided I'd eventually meet a man with the final name and marry him. And the stepson just happens to have that name.
Jagged Little Pills
With just three weeks and a few days standing between me and my trip to Malawi, the preparations are in full swing. I spent nearly 2 hours on the phone with my boss this morning, planning our 3-hour seminar on health, healing, and wholeness for the community of Mzuzu. We'll be engaging local health advocates and of course, the attendees will drive the conversation. We're really just going to be there to help facilitate a conversation. But, what an opportunity.
I had a moral crisis about this trip a few weeks ago. I was standing in line at the Target pharmacy with a prescription for Malarone, a very good anti-malaria pill. My right arm was covered in bandages from injections--tetanus booster, Hepatitis A, and typhoid. The travel clinic didn't take insurance, so I'd put the $300 bill on my AmEx. The Malarone pills cost more than $100 for a 14-day supply. Again, I swiped the AmEx, and made sure to put the receipt in a safe place--not because I'd be filing an insurance claim, hoping I'd get some if back, but because my work would be reimbursing me in full. I'd simply code the injections and pills to my "travel account" on my next check requisition form.
When the pharmacist handed me the bottle of little white pills, it hit me: damn, that's some privilege there. Just a phone call to a doctor's office, a Metro ride, and an AmEx got me a prescription to prevent a disease that kills 2 people every minute. And even though I don't have to pay for it myself, I could if I needed to.
I'm still not quite sure what to do with this guilt. I know that not taking the pills does not do me--or anyone else for that matter--any good--no sense in me acquiring a disease and having to seek medical attention while I'm there. That's why I've been doing all of my routine check-ups and getting in good shape before I leave; I want to be completely and totally there to experience it all at my best. But, it's the fact that I have access to quality care and others do not that's got me in a metaphorical headlock.
So, let's do something. $10 buys a bed net to protect a family from the disease. You can go visit Imagine No Malaria to donate. I'm going there now.
I had a moral crisis about this trip a few weeks ago. I was standing in line at the Target pharmacy with a prescription for Malarone, a very good anti-malaria pill. My right arm was covered in bandages from injections--tetanus booster, Hepatitis A, and typhoid. The travel clinic didn't take insurance, so I'd put the $300 bill on my AmEx. The Malarone pills cost more than $100 for a 14-day supply. Again, I swiped the AmEx, and made sure to put the receipt in a safe place--not because I'd be filing an insurance claim, hoping I'd get some if back, but because my work would be reimbursing me in full. I'd simply code the injections and pills to my "travel account" on my next check requisition form.
When the pharmacist handed me the bottle of little white pills, it hit me: damn, that's some privilege there. Just a phone call to a doctor's office, a Metro ride, and an AmEx got me a prescription to prevent a disease that kills 2 people every minute. And even though I don't have to pay for it myself, I could if I needed to.
I'm still not quite sure what to do with this guilt. I know that not taking the pills does not do me--or anyone else for that matter--any good--no sense in me acquiring a disease and having to seek medical attention while I'm there. That's why I've been doing all of my routine check-ups and getting in good shape before I leave; I want to be completely and totally there to experience it all at my best. But, it's the fact that I have access to quality care and others do not that's got me in a metaphorical headlock.
So, let's do something. $10 buys a bed net to protect a family from the disease. You can go visit Imagine No Malaria to donate. I'm going there now.
Why I Feel REALLY Lucky to Have My Job
I got to sit inside the United Nations General Assembly yesterday for the Opening Ceremonies of the 55th Commission on the Status of Women.
Really, I've got nothing to complain about.
Really, I've got nothing to complain about.
You've Got a Lot of Nerve
So it seems that my job is getting in the way of my blogging. I hate when that happens! I'm off to New York for the week, but before I go, I just had to write about this.
Yesterday I was having a good day. A fantastic day, actually. After a few really rough days of work, I had gotten an invitation to meet with some of the House Foreign Affairs staff. It had gone really well, and I was feeling like maybe I actually have a chance to, I don't know, impact something for real for once. On my walk back to the Metro, I was talking with my colleague when I decided to quickly check my email on my phone.
"What the fuck? Are you fucking kidding me with this shit?" All my lady-likeness and politeness I'd managed to muster up for my Hill meeting had dissipated instantly. Because at the top of my email was this.
"Dr. Nutrition would like to add you to his professional network on LinkedIn."
WHAT. THE. FUCK?!?!?!
Let me refresh your memory. Dr. N and I went out for about two months when he decided just to completely blow me off, even after I'd given him an easy out. It hurt my feelings, pissed me off, but it wasn't the end of the world. Whatever, guys can be dicks about that shit. But then after that, he has the balls to send me a LinkedIn invitation out of nowhere?
Not to hate on LinkedIn, but requests to be added to someone's network are even less personal and more generic than a Facebook friend request. Usually it's something I reserve for people with whom I've worked and with whom I am on good terms. To be clear, Dr. Nutrition and I are not on good terms because he blew me off and hasn't talked to me for 4 months.
So, I respond to his out-of-the-blue request with a one word e-mail. "Seriously?"
I didn't expect him to respond. But within an hour, I got this reply:
"Hi, how have you been? I'm sorry for how things ended between us, but I'd like to maintain a professional relationship...if possible. Since we talked, I became chair of this new organization. I've attached some information and I'd love for you to join. Look it over and let me know if you want to be a member. Have a great weekend! Dr. Nutrition."
ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME WITH THIS BULLSHIT? You blow me off, you don't talk to me for MONTHS, and now you want me to do you a fucking favor? You want me to JOIN your organization?!
There were so many things I wanted to say in response. But, I restrained myself. I simply said, "Best of luck. Sorry, I don't have time for any more commitments. If you want to expand your membership, I recommend contacting this and that person. Best, Me."
Look, Dr. Nutrition. DC is a small fucking town, and you burned a bridge with me--a bridge to fantastic. Had you been decent enough to tell me that things weren't working out, it would've taken me some time, but we could definitely be cordial with one another. But since you didn't have the balls to be honest, I don't owe you a fucking thing.
Yesterday I was having a good day. A fantastic day, actually. After a few really rough days of work, I had gotten an invitation to meet with some of the House Foreign Affairs staff. It had gone really well, and I was feeling like maybe I actually have a chance to, I don't know, impact something for real for once. On my walk back to the Metro, I was talking with my colleague when I decided to quickly check my email on my phone.
"What the fuck? Are you fucking kidding me with this shit?" All my lady-likeness and politeness I'd managed to muster up for my Hill meeting had dissipated instantly. Because at the top of my email was this.
"Dr. Nutrition would like to add you to his professional network on LinkedIn."
WHAT. THE. FUCK?!?!?!
Let me refresh your memory. Dr. N and I went out for about two months when he decided just to completely blow me off, even after I'd given him an easy out. It hurt my feelings, pissed me off, but it wasn't the end of the world. Whatever, guys can be dicks about that shit. But then after that, he has the balls to send me a LinkedIn invitation out of nowhere?
Not to hate on LinkedIn, but requests to be added to someone's network are even less personal and more generic than a Facebook friend request. Usually it's something I reserve for people with whom I've worked and with whom I am on good terms. To be clear, Dr. Nutrition and I are not on good terms because he blew me off and hasn't talked to me for 4 months.
So, I respond to his out-of-the-blue request with a one word e-mail. "Seriously?"
I didn't expect him to respond. But within an hour, I got this reply:
"Hi, how have you been? I'm sorry for how things ended between us, but I'd like to maintain a professional relationship...if possible. Since we talked, I became chair of this new organization. I've attached some information and I'd love for you to join. Look it over and let me know if you want to be a member. Have a great weekend! Dr. Nutrition."
ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME WITH THIS BULLSHIT? You blow me off, you don't talk to me for MONTHS, and now you want me to do you a fucking favor? You want me to JOIN your organization?!
There were so many things I wanted to say in response. But, I restrained myself. I simply said, "Best of luck. Sorry, I don't have time for any more commitments. If you want to expand your membership, I recommend contacting this and that person. Best, Me."
Look, Dr. Nutrition. DC is a small fucking town, and you burned a bridge with me--a bridge to fantastic. Had you been decent enough to tell me that things weren't working out, it would've taken me some time, but we could definitely be cordial with one another. But since you didn't have the balls to be honest, I don't owe you a fucking thing.
The Fleeting Sting of Rejection
At the beginning of the month, I was contacted by an organization to do some part-time work doing social media strategizing. Flattered and excited, I'd immediately written back that I was definitely interested and got to work putting together a presentation that I was sure would "wow" them. After spending a few late nights at Starbucks, getting to know the organization's website and and perfecting my proposal, I nailed the interview. As far as I could tell, the job was in the bag. Until I got the an email from them. I could tell by the subject line that I didn't get it--it was too generic, neutral, and succinct to be a "Come join our team!" message. Boo.
Now, I'm thankful that I didn't need this job, something I almost feel guilty about. I know there are lots and lots of people desperate for work, and I've already got a job I'm crazy about. I guess part of me was feeling a little greedy (more work= more $$ = new Frye boots!), but it was also about having an opportunity to gain new skills and experience. I had decided 2011 would be the "year of work" and that I was fine with committing myself to a 55+ hour work week.
So, even though it's probably best in the long run that I didn't get this job, the rejection still stung a bit. As soon as I read the email I felt myself getting defensive, telling myself I didn't really want this position anyway. But really what I was feeling was inadequate. What had I done or not done to miss out on this opportunity? I went over my words, my proposal, my resume, trying to think what had been the kicker misstep. Basically, I was trying to find my own screw up.
We can tell ourselves not to take rejection personally--that it has nothing to do with us, but it's the circumstances or the other person or some other thing out of our control. But in the end, we're stuck with our rejection, trying to figure it out. It's perfectly understandable that we might immediately jump into self-criticism because a lot of times we don't get any answers and we're left to our devices to make sense of it all.
At first I wished I hadn't told anyone about the interview. I knew I was going to be asked about it, and I didn't want to admit to anyone that I'd been passed up. I felt embarrassed. So, when I did get asked about it, I pulled the, "Well, it really wasn't a good fit for me anyway" line. I didn't want to say, "My feelings are hurt that I didn't get it." Rejection is hard on its own, but it's even tougher when there's an audience. I feel like I've got to toughen up, get over it.
And in a few days, I did. But I didn't deny myself that bit of time of just feeling bummed out. It's good to get excited over possible opportunities and put our hearts and head into it. I'm glad I felt invested enough to feel the sting of rejection a bit. And I'm thankful for family and friends who remind me that I'm good at what I do, second job or not.
Now, I'm thankful that I didn't need this job, something I almost feel guilty about. I know there are lots and lots of people desperate for work, and I've already got a job I'm crazy about. I guess part of me was feeling a little greedy (more work= more $$ = new Frye boots!), but it was also about having an opportunity to gain new skills and experience. I had decided 2011 would be the "year of work" and that I was fine with committing myself to a 55+ hour work week.
So, even though it's probably best in the long run that I didn't get this job, the rejection still stung a bit. As soon as I read the email I felt myself getting defensive, telling myself I didn't really want this position anyway. But really what I was feeling was inadequate. What had I done or not done to miss out on this opportunity? I went over my words, my proposal, my resume, trying to think what had been the kicker misstep. Basically, I was trying to find my own screw up.
We can tell ourselves not to take rejection personally--that it has nothing to do with us, but it's the circumstances or the other person or some other thing out of our control. But in the end, we're stuck with our rejection, trying to figure it out. It's perfectly understandable that we might immediately jump into self-criticism because a lot of times we don't get any answers and we're left to our devices to make sense of it all.
At first I wished I hadn't told anyone about the interview. I knew I was going to be asked about it, and I didn't want to admit to anyone that I'd been passed up. I felt embarrassed. So, when I did get asked about it, I pulled the, "Well, it really wasn't a good fit for me anyway" line. I didn't want to say, "My feelings are hurt that I didn't get it." Rejection is hard on its own, but it's even tougher when there's an audience. I feel like I've got to toughen up, get over it.
And in a few days, I did. But I didn't deny myself that bit of time of just feeling bummed out. It's good to get excited over possible opportunities and put our hearts and head into it. I'm glad I felt invested enough to feel the sting of rejection a bit. And I'm thankful for family and friends who remind me that I'm good at what I do, second job or not.
Hurry Girl, It's Waiting There For You
Africa, that is. (Points if you got the somewhat altered Toto reference in the title!) Specifically Zimbabwe. Or Mozambique. Or Malawi. Or Kenya. Or some combination of these.
While my work focuses on international women's health, I haven't had the opportunity to travel outside the US since starting the project last January. I wouldn't consider myself that well-traveled anyway. I spent a semester studying in Italy and hit as many European highlights as I could, taking dirty Italian overnight trains to Paris, staying at sketchy hostels in Madrid and Barcelona, and toting a Jansport backpack all the way. I've been to Costa Rica on a legit mission type trip, and the Bahamas and St. Lucia for vacation. So really, Costa Rica is the only place I got any sense of the Global South, and among developing countries, it's pretty stable and relatively economically sound.
Since starting work on international health, I've felt a growing urgency to see more of the world, not as a tourist (although travel for pleasure is awesome) but to connect with grassroots health advocacy. It's not just a way to build some credibility in the work that I do, but also for me to see with my own eyes what the situation is like for folks on the ground, hear the stories, and work together with them as allies. And now, it's really going to happen!
I have two awesome opportunities, and I need to pick one and soon. Like, by the end of the week. Yikes!
The first is a 3-week trip to Zimbabwe, working on a mission team and doing some construction at a hospital. It's a little on the long side, and while I think it'd be personally enriching, I'm not sure it's the best fit for my work. I really want to talk with people one-on-one, and I think I'd be more in the background. On the flip side, it's in August which is a great time to travel since Congress is out of session.
The second would be a shorter, possibly two-country trip to Malawi and Mozambique. In Malawi, I'd get to visit some AIDS projects and in Mozambique, I'd be attending a multi-country conference on domestic violence. And, it would be right before some big trips I have in the US, which isn't great timing but it would also build my credibility before I go stand in front of groups, telling them why they should support international health efforts.
I've got a lot to think about. But whichever I choose, it's going to be an amazing experience!
While my work focuses on international women's health, I haven't had the opportunity to travel outside the US since starting the project last January. I wouldn't consider myself that well-traveled anyway. I spent a semester studying in Italy and hit as many European highlights as I could, taking dirty Italian overnight trains to Paris, staying at sketchy hostels in Madrid and Barcelona, and toting a Jansport backpack all the way. I've been to Costa Rica on a legit mission type trip, and the Bahamas and St. Lucia for vacation. So really, Costa Rica is the only place I got any sense of the Global South, and among developing countries, it's pretty stable and relatively economically sound.
Since starting work on international health, I've felt a growing urgency to see more of the world, not as a tourist (although travel for pleasure is awesome) but to connect with grassroots health advocacy. It's not just a way to build some credibility in the work that I do, but also for me to see with my own eyes what the situation is like for folks on the ground, hear the stories, and work together with them as allies. And now, it's really going to happen!
I have two awesome opportunities, and I need to pick one and soon. Like, by the end of the week. Yikes!
The first is a 3-week trip to Zimbabwe, working on a mission team and doing some construction at a hospital. It's a little on the long side, and while I think it'd be personally enriching, I'm not sure it's the best fit for my work. I really want to talk with people one-on-one, and I think I'd be more in the background. On the flip side, it's in August which is a great time to travel since Congress is out of session.
The second would be a shorter, possibly two-country trip to Malawi and Mozambique. In Malawi, I'd get to visit some AIDS projects and in Mozambique, I'd be attending a multi-country conference on domestic violence. And, it would be right before some big trips I have in the US, which isn't great timing but it would also build my credibility before I go stand in front of groups, telling them why they should support international health efforts.
I've got a lot to think about. But whichever I choose, it's going to be an amazing experience!
Finals Time
I pride myself on being The Non-Student (if I have anything to do it I will maintain that status until the day I die--mark my word!), but I can't help but feel like I'm in finals mode right now. Probably because the second I landed in DC Monday night, I said to myself, "Three weeks, girlfriend. Three weeks and then you get to go back home."
It's pretty much the same attitude I had in college and grad school: quick, get over that Thanksgiving turkey coma and kick some paper/exam/studying ass! Since my project runs on the calendar year, I really am scrambling like a stressed-out student to get all the loose ends tied. The big thing I've got to do is write a report for our funder, which seems kind of pointless now because they've already cut us another check for 2011. Yay employment!
I see the next two-ish weeks as a to-do list. Buy this gift. Go to this party. Finish up this project. Two weeks seems doable. But living life as a to-do list is a pretty shitty way of going about life. It's just all I seem to be able to manage here lately. At least it's the holidays and I can crank Mariah Carey
and buy stocking stuffers and burn candles that smell like pumpkin and candy canes to counteract the dark and cold because hello, apparently it is winter now. When did this happen?
If you're a non-student like me, do you still kind of feel like you're on an academic calendar? Are you just counting down until you (hopefully) get to eat lots of delicious food and wear pajamas all day and catch up on all of the seasons of The Real Housewives?
P.S. Enter my giveaway! That'll put you in the holiday spirit.
It's pretty much the same attitude I had in college and grad school: quick, get over that Thanksgiving turkey coma and kick some paper/exam/studying ass! Since my project runs on the calendar year, I really am scrambling like a stressed-out student to get all the loose ends tied. The big thing I've got to do is write a report for our funder, which seems kind of pointless now because they've already cut us another check for 2011. Yay employment!
and buy stocking stuffers and burn candles that smell like pumpkin and candy canes to counteract the dark and cold because hello, apparently it is winter now. When did this happen?If you're a non-student like me, do you still kind of feel like you're on an academic calendar? Are you just counting down until you (hopefully) get to eat lots of delicious food and wear pajamas all day and catch up on all of the seasons of The Real Housewives?
P.S. Enter my giveaway! That'll put you in the holiday spirit.
Give Me the Green Light
If it wasn't obvious in my last post, I have been considering the possibility of moving back to Charlotte, North Carolina. Considering the possibility. Ok, that and indulging in fantasies about what it would be like to be able to afford a real grown-up apartment on my own.
In thinking about a potential move, the only real hang-up I could foresee was my job. Other than travel stories, I haven't shared much about my work on the blog (hello, relative anonymity). I'm a contractor for a non-profit. I telecommute (i.e. work from home) about 95% of the time and essentially I can do my job anywhere there's Internet and a good airport. But, since I do advocacy work, it is helpful for me to be in DC--to go to meetings, briefings, and the occasional visit with a member of Congress. So, while not essential and not part of my contract, being in DC, at least some of the time, is a good thing for me professionally, both for right now and for future work opportunities. (Although I'm really wondering if I want to stay in this rat race for the long-run anyway.)
You can imagine my relief, then, when I brought this up with my supervisor and she said, "As a contractor, I can't tell you where you can do your work. It's illegal! That and the most important part of your job is not the work you do on the Hill but the grassroots work you're doing in the field." Shew, ok! Not a barrier.Plus DC is just an hour's flight from Charlotte. Then she said, "Forgive me, I'm taking off my professional hat now and putting on the friend hat, but I do worry that you may be trying to run away from problems that are rooted in the internal, not the external."
Let me say that my supervisor/boss is like another mother to me. She's someone I've known for years, and I feel incredibly thankful to work with her now. She's wise, grounded, and an incredible listener. She knows all about my life, SCL, and my general feelings of unhappiness. And if there's anyone in DC whose perspective I would want, it's hers.
"I agree with you," I admitted. I know that I have a shit-ton of work to do on myself. Happiness and satisfaction come from within, and if I want to experience them, I will have to do that hard work no matter where I end up living. But my feeling is that changing some of the external things and improving my quality of life that way may actually facilitate doing that internal work. Right now I feel like my attempts to do the internal work are actually being hindered by the external things in my life here.
What I truly want in this situation is to feel like I have a choice in the matter.If I decide to stay in DC, it will be because I chose to. And if I decide to move, it will be a decision I am making for myself. Knowing I have a choice is incredibly liberating. Now I've got a lot of discerning, thinking, and journaling to do. But I believe in time I'll have my answer.
In thinking about a potential move, the only real hang-up I could foresee was my job. Other than travel stories, I haven't shared much about my work on the blog (hello, relative anonymity). I'm a contractor for a non-profit. I telecommute (i.e. work from home) about 95% of the time and essentially I can do my job anywhere there's Internet and a good airport. But, since I do advocacy work, it is helpful for me to be in DC--to go to meetings, briefings, and the occasional visit with a member of Congress. So, while not essential and not part of my contract, being in DC, at least some of the time, is a good thing for me professionally, both for right now and for future work opportunities. (Although I'm really wondering if I want to stay in this rat race for the long-run anyway.)
You can imagine my relief, then, when I brought this up with my supervisor and she said, "As a contractor, I can't tell you where you can do your work. It's illegal! That and the most important part of your job is not the work you do on the Hill but the grassroots work you're doing in the field." Shew, ok! Not a barrier.Plus DC is just an hour's flight from Charlotte. Then she said, "Forgive me, I'm taking off my professional hat now and putting on the friend hat, but I do worry that you may be trying to run away from problems that are rooted in the internal, not the external."
Let me say that my supervisor/boss is like another mother to me. She's someone I've known for years, and I feel incredibly thankful to work with her now. She's wise, grounded, and an incredible listener. She knows all about my life, SCL, and my general feelings of unhappiness. And if there's anyone in DC whose perspective I would want, it's hers.
"I agree with you," I admitted. I know that I have a shit-ton of work to do on myself. Happiness and satisfaction come from within, and if I want to experience them, I will have to do that hard work no matter where I end up living. But my feeling is that changing some of the external things and improving my quality of life that way may actually facilitate doing that internal work. Right now I feel like my attempts to do the internal work are actually being hindered by the external things in my life here.
If you'll indulge me, here are a few of the external things Charlotte would offer.
- Lower cost of living
- Slower pace of life
- Better weather (NC springs are the best)
- Within driving distance of my entire immediate family
- Within driving distance of my best friend
- Hub for other alums from my college
- Familiarity
- Distance from SCL (I mean, c'mon. It's tough living 3 blocks away from each other sometimes.)
- Good friends and mentors in the area
What I truly want in this situation is to feel like I have a choice in the matter.If I decide to stay in DC, it will be because I chose to. And if I decide to move, it will be a decision I am making for myself. Knowing I have a choice is incredibly liberating. Now I've got a lot of discerning, thinking, and journaling to do. But I believe in time I'll have my answer.
We're Halfway There
My cross-country adventure is about half-way done--well, half-way to being back to DC for 48 hours before leaving again. But, the thought of two nights in my own bed is intoxicating. This is the most fun one I've slept in since leaving DC at the Hotel Monaco in downtown Denver.
I got great news yesterday that our funder for the project I direct has given us an additional year of funding, so I will be gainfully employed at least through December 2011!
In between speaking engagements, I've been spending a lot of time responding to matches online. I'm realizing that I can't put all of my hope in Dr. Nutrition who has continued to be quite silent since I left. I've decided that I won't worry about it until I get back to DC and things are "normal" again. We have a tentative date planned for next Tuesday, but I'm not counting on it.
I'll check in again soon!
It's a Beautiful Morning
Hi dearies! Writing from Sheridan, Wyoming--not exactly a place I ever thought I'd visit, but it's so beautiful here. The weather is perfect, the leaves are turning, and the people could not be more lovely. Here's the view from my hotel room.
And this beautiful park we found off of Main Street....
And my new lovely Kenyan friend is the best travel companion a girl could ask for, despite all the weirdness that is the US of A. I'm seeing the country through completely new eyes.
The best part? I'm almost completely occupied with work and hosting my friend that I have very, very little time to act like a crazy person about Dr. Nutrition. We touched base Thursday night, but I've been super busy since then. I've even regained a new sense of enthusiasm for online dating and may have a few dates lined up for the week when I return.
Needless to say, this trip has been exactly what I've needed. Tomorrow we are off to Denver. More pics to come!
And this beautiful park we found off of Main Street....
And my new lovely Kenyan friend is the best travel companion a girl could ask for, despite all the weirdness that is the US of A. I'm seeing the country through completely new eyes.
The best part? I'm almost completely occupied with work and hosting my friend that I have very, very little time to act like a crazy person about Dr. Nutrition. We touched base Thursday night, but I've been super busy since then. I've even regained a new sense of enthusiasm for online dating and may have a few dates lined up for the week when I return.
Needless to say, this trip has been exactly what I've needed. Tomorrow we are off to Denver. More pics to come!
Another Hotel, Another Continental Breakfast, Another Phone Call Fail
For any of you thinking how great it is to travel for work, think again. So far in the 48 hours I've been in Philly, I have seen nothing but the inside of a dim, freezing hotel in the middle of nowhere. Our hotel is not anywhere near the awesomeness of downtown and my favorite Mexican restaurant--El Vez. My one bit of excitement was last night's dinner at Outback Steakhouse. I wish I was kidding.
Oh, and yesterday's trauma: I made myself go to the gym, and was horrified to find that Fox News was the only thing on the TVs and I was subjected to Glenn Beck as I ran. I don't care what party you come from--that guy is an idiotic douche.
Anyway, the traveling is a strain on me personally (difficult to sleep, eating restaurant food, and long, overly-caffeinated days), and it certainly doesn't help the communication issues that SCL and I have. Neither of us likes talking on the phone, and when we do talk, it's kind of awkward. We both know that we hate the phone, but there aren't that many alternatives--Gchat, email, and Skype are other ones I can think of. It didn't help last night that I was pretty much falling asleep when I called him.
I think one of my problems is I don't want to just have a five minute conversation and then hang up. I want to stay on the damn phone because I want to feel connected to him. So we end up sitting there in silence, our phones up to our ears with nothing to say. And then of course I think there's something wrong because we have nothing to discuss (even though he's been working and I've been trapped in a hotel conference room all day). Back when we were just dating, we used to use Skype and video chat which was pretty fun. I enjoy seeing his face--and it felt like he was just in the other room!
Maybe it would be helpful to see the time apart as a time to recharge--and know that we'll reconnect when I return. But when I know I'm going to be gone for basically two weeks, that seems like it's not quite as sustainable. Luckily he'll be joining me tomorrow for my friend's wedding weekend.
Do any of you travel on a regular basis? How do you stay connected to the ones you love?
Oh, and yesterday's trauma: I made myself go to the gym, and was horrified to find that Fox News was the only thing on the TVs and I was subjected to Glenn Beck as I ran. I don't care what party you come from--that guy is an idiotic douche.
Anyway, the traveling is a strain on me personally (difficult to sleep, eating restaurant food, and long, overly-caffeinated days), and it certainly doesn't help the communication issues that SCL and I have. Neither of us likes talking on the phone, and when we do talk, it's kind of awkward. We both know that we hate the phone, but there aren't that many alternatives--Gchat, email, and Skype are other ones I can think of. It didn't help last night that I was pretty much falling asleep when I called him.
I think one of my problems is I don't want to just have a five minute conversation and then hang up. I want to stay on the damn phone because I want to feel connected to him. So we end up sitting there in silence, our phones up to our ears with nothing to say. And then of course I think there's something wrong because we have nothing to discuss (even though he's been working and I've been trapped in a hotel conference room all day). Back when we were just dating, we used to use Skype and video chat which was pretty fun. I enjoy seeing his face--and it felt like he was just in the other room!
Maybe it would be helpful to see the time apart as a time to recharge--and know that we'll reconnect when I return. But when I know I'm going to be gone for basically two weeks, that seems like it's not quite as sustainable. Luckily he'll be joining me tomorrow for my friend's wedding weekend.
Do any of you travel on a regular basis? How do you stay connected to the ones you love?
On the Homestretch
After spending most of the week in Texas, Missouri, and Kansas, I'm finally back in the eastern time zone and ready to rock the last leg of my trip. So far I've addressed more than 1350 people, which has been exhilarating and exhausting at the same time. Mostly, though, it's been the traveling to and from the airport, staying in hotels, eating restaurant food, and flying constantly that's got me feeling sluggish. But despite that, I've had a fantastic time so far.
Because I've been so busy, SCL and I have only had a few minutes here and there to catch up, but when we have, it's been great. We usually suck at talking on the phone, but because so much has been going on with me and he's been doing some fun things in DC, we've had a lot of good things to share with each other. It should be obvious to me, but when we're both happy doing our own things, we make a happier couple when we come back together. This is what so many of you have been telling me all along, but until I could start seeing it for myself, I wasn't quite sure.
I'm glad I don't travel like this all the time, but I am glad that I have a job that is fulfilling, exciting, and always changing. When I first moved to DC, I had a job I hated, and it really took a toll on me and my relationship with SCL. I was fortunate to find another one that I love because it's satisfying. I know not everyone can have her dream job, but I do hope we all can find ways of having that excitement, passion, and satisfaction on our own rather than seeking it all in our relationships.
I have another busy two days ahead of me, but I look forward to being back with all of you when I'm home. Hope you're all having great weeks!
Because I've been so busy, SCL and I have only had a few minutes here and there to catch up, but when we have, it's been great. We usually suck at talking on the phone, but because so much has been going on with me and he's been doing some fun things in DC, we've had a lot of good things to share with each other. It should be obvious to me, but when we're both happy doing our own things, we make a happier couple when we come back together. This is what so many of you have been telling me all along, but until I could start seeing it for myself, I wasn't quite sure.
I'm glad I don't travel like this all the time, but I am glad that I have a job that is fulfilling, exciting, and always changing. When I first moved to DC, I had a job I hated, and it really took a toll on me and my relationship with SCL. I was fortunate to find another one that I love because it's satisfying. I know not everyone can have her dream job, but I do hope we all can find ways of having that excitement, passion, and satisfaction on our own rather than seeking it all in our relationships.
I have another busy two days ahead of me, but I look forward to being back with all of you when I'm home. Hope you're all having great weeks!
Who was I kidding?
For real, there is nothing good enough in the world--not even an invitation to the White House--that can ease the pain of a new break-up. That is what I'm finding to be the absolute worst part of this whole process thus far: it's the times when I think I'm going to be distracted from the pain and I find I'm not. It catches me off guard, in a public place where I need to appear like I'm paying attention to what is actually happening, where I can't cry, where I must keep my composure. THIS IS THE WORST.
So far this has happened three times I can distinctly recall:
- During my first meeting as member of the Board of Directors for a national organization yesterday, we were in the middle of conversations about funding sources, and I all I could think about was SCL. So, I pretended to "take notes" and journaled continuously for the next hour. Once the meeting adjourned, I proceeded to continue journaling for another hour, resulting in over 10 pages of legal-sized paper of my feelings, thoughts, and woes. I put them in an envelope, sealed it, and vowed not to open it until March 25, 2011 when hopefully I can look back and see how far I've come. That is the hope anyway.
- At a happy hour with friends and colleagues, conversations arose about aforementioned organization, how it's up shit's creek, and how bad the management is. I proceeded to mentally check out, nurse my cosmopolitan, and think of yelling in the middle of Union Station "I DON'T GIVE A FLYING FUCK ABOUT THIS ORGANIZATION RIGHT NOW! I JUST WENT THROUGH A BREAK-UP WITH THE MAN I WAS SUPPOSED TO MARRY!" Somehow I managed to restrain myself and simply had another cosmo.
- While the White House meeting was fine (and way too jam-packed to think of anything but how cool it all was and how difficult it was to get a word in edgewise with all the personalities in the room), the conversation I had with friends afterward was not. Let me be clear: I don't give a shit about politics. I mean, I do because it's a necessity, but honestly after this debacle over health care, do we all REALLY believe the government alone will solve the looming problems of the world? I just found myself getting pissed, quiet, and resentful that no one was observing how sad I was. Hello, I just went through a break up! Aren't you all supposed to be caring for me? Let's just say I'm not in a place to talk politics when all I want to talk about is how shitty I feel.
And now I'm home, had myself a good cry for about five minutes, blogging to you, contemplating if I'm going to drinks with a friend who right now I find completely irritating, insensitive, and overwhelming. Do I put myself back together, head out the door, and hope for the best? I don't know. I just don't know.
I hate being a type-A, emotional overachiever. I love processes, being mature, taking things well, and generally being above-average when it comes to dealing with hard shit. But right now I'm just pissed and want to throw things and beg SCL to please come back and do all of the stuff that I'm not "supposed" to do. Well, I don't care right now. I want to be ME, in the moment, feeling what feeling. And right now I'm having a pity party.
Fabulous Friday
So, yes, I'm bummed. I'm heartbroken. Blah blah. That is not all that's going on with me. Remember I have a kick ass job? A kick ass job that gets me really cool opportunities? Check this out. In just a few minutes I'll be leaving to go to a meeting in the (wait for it)---WHITE HOUSE. That's right! I got an invitation for a young women's outreach meeting hosted by the Office of Public Engagement and Office on Women and Girls. I've never been in the White House, not even for a tour, so this is super, super cool news. By far the coolest DC thing I've been invited to yet.
So, go me! Wahoo! It's really wonderful to have fun things to look forward to and do in the middle of all this crappy stuff.
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