Should I Stay or Should I Go?

Last two weeks have been intensely interesting, to say the least.

- I considered myself unemployed, my head about to burst with the effort of pushing through the last two weeks (those drasted two weeks' notice good employees always give).

- Then suddenly I'm not so unemployed anymore. All my worrying about whether I'd be able to study, if I'd be able to hold my job in spite of the fact that I'll be going on an already-paid-for vacation to NYC in July ... worrying simply because I quit without a safety net, and I was plummeting speedily towards the Sea of the Idle and the Impoverished. But then a great friend trusted me so much and had so much faith in what I can do, that she twisted things around the way I thought they couldn't be twisted.

I'm a happy (and very peaceful) camper now.

Other things are happening, though, and my life apparently refuses to be without a bit of drama and uncertainty. It's as if I am a magnet for trouble and ... well, let me not gripe too much about it. Drama and uncertainty is what makes your blood pump quicker. :-) I need all the livelihood I can get.

Little Notes #8: Next Few Weeks and What it Means

#1, next Monday is going to be, in some measure, surreal. Going back to 1995, the expectations, the nervousness.


#2, next two weeks, on the other hand, are going to be more real than I would like to deal with. Most people will not understand my reasons for the decision I've made. Some will come as far as to be annoyed. I even expect the random colleague to come across and demand answers and explanations, and I'm afraid I won't have a generally satisfactory answer.




#3, Mother's Day is drawing near, as well as my sister's birthday, all of it during a moment in life in which money is going to be a precious commodity. I think the best I will be able to do will be to offer them homemade food. My sister has been clamoring for some cheesy potatoes (potatoes au gratin, if you wanna get more gourmand in the description), and my mom has asked in more than one occasion for my pasta carbonara. I think I will oblige (and will probably throw in some homemade dessert for good measure). It's the best I can do.

Self-Reminder

I just need to remind myself that "today" is not my life. That hours are just a fraction of a day, and that not all hours can be as pleasant as I wish they were.

I need to keep in mind that the clothes I wear to work and what I do for a living do not define me as a person. I am not my career, and this too shall pass.


I need to keep my inner peace in check today, because the lack of information and details in the orders given to me is not my fault. I can and will do the best I can do given the circumstances.

And as soon as I get home, I'll be able to sleep.

Tomorrow will be a better day.

The Nose Experience

At the beginning of this week, at some point while I drove, I had the distinct feeling of being back in 1999. How does that happen? Was it the smell? I've been aware for about ten or eleven years now that one of my favorite senses is the sense of smell. Contrary to taste, it hasn't been as deeply crippled by my smoking vice. My eyesight is not the best either (I have a mild case of progressive myopia and astigmatism, a trademark for computer professionals). I think I might have also lost some of my hearing at one point or another, since I can remember having problems with it as far as 11 years ago. And hell, I can't go around touching everything I please! Haha! So ... smell!


Smell is what drives me around my world: with a whiff of fragrance I've been able to recognize someone faster than by a look to their face. I get hungrier by the smell of BBQ'ed steak than by the sight of a juicy meat cut. The fragrance of apple/cinnamon incenses and candles has been irrevocably associated with my stepmother. Same applies for the smell of perfumes like Shalimar, Ciara and Anais Anais (each one represents an era in my mother's life). Some smells have haunted me for years as well, like for example the aroma one of my friends exuded, which I was never able to identify as any cologne, soap or perfume I knew. Others, I will never forget, like the smell of puppy breath.

I can better determine how dirty my house is by the smell that welcomes me in the afternoon. The tiles can look clean as whistles, but if I can smell mop water, I know it's time to clean up a bit.

It's safe to say then that each era in my life has a set of smells inherent to it. Perfumes on the trend are primary examples of how this works, and then there are also the smells of friends and places (years 1995 - 1997 had a high incidence of fun fair smells - musty oil, vomit and cotton candy).

But what happened to me earlier this week, I'm sure it wasn't a smell. Smells are just the perceptible face of the deal. When I felt like I was back in 1999, it wasn't the smell of business office lobby that triggered it. It must have been the feeling of impending doom, of sunlight bouncing off mirrored windows from offices in buildings towering overhead. It must have been the realization (and in a way, coming to terms with) that I am what I feared I'd become. Thankfully, that same morning I decided to take control of what I could to change what I didn't like in my life. I'll start with the small things ... like the smell of my car.

Catching Up after the Switch

I started working at my new place on Monday. I was handed my laptop just yesterday, though. Seems like they weren't exactly 100% ready for me.

The hours are weird, it will take some getting used to. I've been working at offices for about 7 or 8 years now. My punch-in time has always been 8am or earlier. In most places I've been, it has been completely mandatory that I be there on time, down to the last company I worked for, in which 8:01am was one minute too late. In here, we work from 9am to 6pm, and it's almost like a suggestion. I've seen people come in at 10am or even 11am, and it's not a big deal. However, punch-out time is 6pm, and I don't see people leave much earlier than that. That will be the hardest thing to get used to, but it'll be alright.

The office is freakishly small, like a doctor's office. Right now, I'm sitting in the conference room, which also doubles as docking bay for the technicians (since techs don't get their own cubicles ... the office is freakishly small). This office is in a building that was apparently made for doctors' offices and clinics, and the footsteps of the people passing by in the hall make the floor tremble. It thunders through this space like it was made of construction paper. Other than that, the silence is a bit unnerving. These people are so different from one another, yet they all seem to convene on one thing: they like their peace and quiet.

These days have been odd, obviously. Being the new girl, not having the slightest clue of what to do, other than reading and re-reading the manual for the software I will be working with... and then again, sometimes getting the feeling of comfort that these people will most likely consider me family with astounding speed (since not only the office is freakishly small, but the staff is also not very big). I like it here, but I'm trying not to get too comfortable. My job's gonna be on the outside, at the client, and that's usually never a comfort zone. That's the reason I chose this: to get out from behind the desk and do something different... wake my mind up a bit.

So, on Tuesday we'll be on our way to San Diego (plane leaves at 4:52pm!), and after our return it will be work work work! I have a good feeling about this, though. I can do this, it should be good.

Different. But good.

The Slow Goodbye

Today it feels much more official, today is the first day of the last week, today is the beginning of a long good-bye.

It was a nice "romance" while it lasted, and just the same, it's always a bittersweet deal when it's over.

Promises of Eternity

by The Magnetic Fields

What if the show couldn't go on
What if we all got jobs and got to bed before dawn
What if Old Joe had to retire
What if all the stage hands were let go or fired
That's just like what the world would be
If you fell out of love with me

I can't let this happen to you
Don't you let it happen to me
What would our friends and family say
If they could only see
If you let this happen to us
Don't think you'd be setting me free
Wasn't it you and I who made
Promises of eternity

What if the lights didn't go on
What if the velvet curtain had to be taken down
What if the clowns couldn't be clowns
And all those painted smiles gave in to plaintive frowns
What if no show ever happened again
No Seven, no 8 1/2, no Nine, and no "10"
All numbers and no mystery
No promise of eternity...