Some Kind of Blue

I haven't yet turned on the air conditioner. The cats have responded by alternately napping on low, cool spots and napping on my head while I try to sleep. I think it's a sort of protest... but I can't stand to turn on the A/C before it's really really necessary, just like I can't stand to turn the heat on in the winter until the cats start knitting little hats and boots out of their own discarded fur.

I hate how much money I spend on "essentials" like electricity and water, as it seriously impedes my ability to afford the things I really need: more yarn and books and dinners out with friends.

And my friends are all doing fine-ish... some better than others. We're all so busy with the way things are going that we haven't had a lot of time (or energy) for each other. It happens. That has made me sad, but what is there to do? We communicate in the same way I communicate with my friends who live far, far away: email, texts, Facebook and Twitter. Sometimes life gets in the way and that has to be enough.

I think that is one of the reasons this job change is causing me so much grief. My work friends will never come close to how important my friend friends are, but lately I spend most of my awake time with them. I see them every day. I eat with them and laugh with them and we all go through the same frustrations and craziness during the day. I doubt I will retain my relationships with more than one or two of them, but right now they're filling a void.

I miss my friends.

There is just so much going on. Everyone is busy and every one has something that is occupying a good percentage of her time.

And I'm not really complaining... I am just as occupied and unavailable as everyone else. Maybe this new job will help with some of that. I'll at least be here. That's ten more hours a week that I can be present for them and for my kid. (She is doing very well right now, thanks for asking!)

I'm back in that place I hoped I would grow out of years and years ago. I'm in the transition place. The "where do I fit into the world" place. I look ahead to June 14th and I imagine myself eating lunch alone at my new desk instead of sharing communal lunch with my team. I imagine hours of reading through policy manuals and meeting scores of people whose names will refuse to stick with me for weeks. And from what I've seen there are a lot of fake nails, processed hair and pantsuits in my future. How am I ever going to fit in there?

(I know. I'm going to do my job and do it well and I'm going to find my place there. Just as soon as I convince myself to want to).

Never Say Never

I love my job. I love pretty much everything about it. I love the people I work with, I love my clients, I love the "can do" attitude that even corporate seems to embrace... I even love driving an hour each way. (I just finished listening to The Fountainhead and started The Girl With the Dragon Tattoo).
My department has grown very close and we support each other and have a great deal of fun every day.

But...

The cost of gas is killing me. I drive about 600 miles a week, I get about 17 miles to the gallon and gas is nearly $3 a gallon. I don't do the math on that... it's too depressing to contemplate... and I thought that on my sad little case manager's salary I could make it work.

I can't. Seriously.

So even though I said from the beginning that only the VA could tempt me away from my job, and even though I SWORE I would never again work for The Evil Empire, I have accepted a position with them. I start on June 14th.

The good things are: it's a 5 minute drive, my caseload will be about 2/3 smaller, I know (and like) my supervisor and I can get clinical experience.

The bad things are: it's The Evil Empire and I will miss (miss, miss) the people here. Also? Again, EVIL EMPIRE, people. I'm probably going to get killed when The Rebel Alliance blows up The Death Star. Seriously.

(In an interesting note, I got my official "welcome to The Evil Empire" letter... there were typos. I'm just saying).

Maybe it won't be as terrible as it feels.