Work: Getting It, Cont'd

I think I got exactly what I wanted, and surprisingly, it doesn't offer a long-term conclusion.  During this time, I have to continue to follow my gut.

Working under a temporary contract has been a surprisingly good experience.  I have appreciated the (mostly) flexible scheduling and the opportunity to get paid while I learn.  I have appreciated the chance to work in multiple departments of the same company.

What surprised me was that when there was talk of putting me on salary and hooking up my email to the outside world, I felt panicked and a little queasy.  There have been some red flags.  After my managers indicated to me verbally (in a rushed, last-twenty-minutes-of-the-work-week-closed-door conversation) that they were hoping to make me a full-time I offer, I had questions about the position, the expectations, the compensation package, and the company.  They wanted me to write them down, so they could respond with more time and thought.  Then they never responded.

August : Pickles, Pickled

Work: Getting It

I have lived in Calgary sixteen months now.  Since I moved, I have been trying to get into one of the two major companies in town that develops apparel.  The other company specializes in athletic wear, which I know little to nothing about, so I have so far steered clear of that one.

After a lucky chance meeting with a member of one of the product development teams during my first visit to Calgary, I did a two-month unpaid internship in fall 2010.  A painful round of retail management with Anthropologie and a long trip home (see Work: Retail, Absence and Hearts and 34 Year Old Intern posts) interrupted my relationship with them, but then I got back in touch with my internship manager, to find out if I could be useful.  Turns out that they could use me. Sometimes, and only when they felt like it. But for some money this time. (See Job post)

Work: Learning It

In the fall of 2009, I had an uncommon opportunity: I was able to return to school, as an adult, in order to learn a new skill.  While I was not able to attend a hand-picked dream school, or even to attend as many classes as I had hoped, I was able to try something completely new about which I had wondered for years.  In the end, this unassuming one-year diploma from the affordable, accessible, no-frills community college turned out to be my favorite academic experience, more practical than my Big Ten undergrad adventure and just as rigorous as my small, private-school Master's of Teaching degree.

Long Haul

My husband and I drove back and forth between the New Orleans area and Minneapolis/St. Paul during our few years of him working in Louisiana.  Those were the hardest road trips of my life.  Twenty hours total drive time and driving conditions that were less than ideal during the seven or eight hours closest to Louisiana.  My first clue that driving through Mississippi would be a test was when I saw a sign for a rest area which read "Security Provided."  The gas stations were no better; I learned to roll up the cuffs of my pants to avoid the filthy floors.  That was also the era where I started traveling with hand sanitizer, a precaution I'd always found silly in past travels.  We found ourselves avoiding water and coffee until we were almost through the state, but it was impossible to clear the state completely without stopping for fuel.

We did that drive maybe two or three times a year during that period, and it wore me out.  So when we were transferred to Canada, at first I refused to drive home.  We were one 3.5 hour flight from home, why would we drive?

Lake Melissa: August 14, 2011

The Village That Raised Me

I'm getting ready for bed, up at the lake.  In the new house, the one that Dad says I should no longer call the cabin, a door opens from my bedroom out to the lakeside patio.  Music is floating across the water, from the bar a few miles away where I used to waitress during the summers of the college years.  Bottle rockets are being launched from near our neighbors' waning bonfire.  A little part of me wants to be at the bar; there is a good chance that at one or two aunts and uncles are there, along with family friends, and perhaps even a few cousins and friends closer to my age.

Fall From Grace

Apostrophe abuse, even in my beloved Minnesota...

Six One Two

Lake Days and Horse Thieves

My husband and I are on a whirlwind trip to Minnesota.  We are out and about together, at home, and home feels amazing.  It makes me a little nervous to be here, because I just started feeling happy in Canada, and I'm worried about this upsetting the balance.  I wavered today, but a trip to the neighborhood bookstore helped.  Regardless, while I can't say that we are on vacation, because my husband has been working most of the time, I can say that I am on vacation and he has been stealing relaxing moments as often as possible.

Inspired By...