So I’m doing Nano Poblano because I suck at blogging lately and if an adorable chili pepper isn’t the motivation I need to suck less at blogging then I don’t know what is.
On the bright side, I’m really good at procrastinating, which is why you won’t see me on the official roster yet because I only decided I was doing this shit today.
I’m in a kind of weird head space at the moment so if this just turns out to be 30 days of raw, unfiltered verbal diarrhea please accept my apology in advance. Although to be fair, if you’re still reading this blog after all the piffle I’ve posted over the years, then you kind of knew what you were signing up for.
When we last met, I was waxing doomsical about the more flammable qualities of this beautiful province I live in while choking on the cremated remains of its forests. And sure enough, 2018 now officially holds the record for worst fire season in BC…at least until 2019 inevitably swoops in with an even worse one. Isn’t it nice to have something to look forward to?
But for the moment, despite an uncharacteristically sunny and pleasant October, Vancouver is back to the way it should be: underwater.
Okay, so I may have overdone the rain dancing just a smidge.
Puddles, potholes, flooding, buses splashing innocent bystanders with tidal waves of garbagey gutter water, less innocent bystanders trying to poke my eyes out with errant umbrella spokes – ah, now this is the city I know and love.
In other news, my workplace is currently about to undergo a change of ownership and everything I do here is going to be under scrutiny while the new management decides whether I’m useful enough to keep on and I might be unemployed by Christmas but everything’s cool because I also started volunteering at the local SPCA a few months ago and WHO CARES IF MY LIVELIHOOD IS AT STAKE WHEN I CAN PET ALL THE CUTE KITTENS, RIGHT? RIGHT?!?
And okay, hear me out, is it kind of bad if I’m just a little bit hoping they will decide I’m expendable? It’s been three years I wondered aloud why I continued to stay in my stagnant office-cube-person mold when I longed for something more fulfilling, and only in the past several months have I even begun to try and formulate an exit strategy. And only then because the Boss Lady in her infinite kindness and acuity took me aside and said, “You’re not happy here. Figure out where you will be happy, and I’ll do what I can to help you make it happen.”
She rocks. I love her.
But the truth remains that I have a terrible history of remaining in toxic working situations when I should be running toward the emergency exits screaming, because
1) I’m bad at running, 2) I convince myself no other workplace in the known universe is desperate or gullible enough to hire me, and 3) what if I give it all up for something that just turns out to be worse? Better the crap hole you know, and all that.
So I stay in these dead end jobs until opportunity doesn’t just knock, but breaks down the door, hog-ties me and forcibly carries me off to greener pastures. In the rare event that I do try and actively improve things myself, the effort is tepid at best and I just end up tripping over my own feet trying not to screw up what I have until I’ve crawled within reach of what I want.
So maybe what I really need is for someone to just rip the whole choice out of my hands and say, “Time’s up. You don’t work here anymore. SEEYA.”
Also I’ve never been fired before. Should that be on my bucket list?
(FYI I do have a game plan either way. It’s just that a sudden state of joblessness would light a bit more of a fire under my ass to quit dicking around and get on with it already.)
I just realized I haven’t said the word “fuck” once in this post so far. Fuck, I really am off my blogging game, aren’t I.
That’s all for now. See you fuckers tomorrow.