Month: December 2008

Moving forward

The last week has been an absolute whirlwind but I’m back and definitely on top of things. It was a pretty rubbish week, to be honest: for the first time in my life I actually started initiating big changes, and it was all a little overwhelming and stressful. Prior to now, my big life changes have been a result of a breakup, bad roommates, being fired (just the once and I swear through no fault other than being honest!!), or my parents hopping over to another continent. But last week I decided I was going to start 2009 as I mean to go on. I’ve had a few bad experiences at my current job and when it came to my toes almost freezing off thanks to my boss and then her yelling at me for it, I just decided to really get things in action. My lovely boyfriend put me in touch with a contact he had at a recruitment agency, and I went in, met with a lovely lady who set me up with an interview on Sunday, and on Monday I found myself hired at the First Glance Aesthetic Clinic. I work for a plastic surgeon!! I’m very nervous but it’s a good solid job that’ll be more exciting (and have actually coworkers! Huzzah for human contact!) that I get to start in the new year. I also filled out all the forms and applied to sublet my apartment at the end of January, which meant getting the wheels moving on actually showing the place to people. So last week was a big step in moving forward. But it was a little stressful, and on top of that, wondering about how I’m going to pay January’s rent solo, worrying about if I’ll do a good job at this new place… I had to give up Chloe.

This was also something that happened far quicker than I imagined. With the job, I’d applied, was interviewed and hired within 4 days. With Chloe, I’d made the decision (thanks to a suggestion from Amber) to find her a decent home where she’d actually be around people and given the attention she needs. I loved her with all my heart and she was the best cat you ever could’ve wished for, but she needed a lot of attention and I was just gone 10 hours out of every day and asleep for another 7 so it didn’t leave very much Chloe time, and she was just distressed and peeing all over my things, so I figured if I found her somewhere she’d be happier, it was better for everyone in the long run… I posted an ad, and didn’t expect a reply within a day. A nice young family with a daughter and two other cats wanted to take her in, and I made sure that she was going to be loved and taken care of. The husband said he loves his cats “like his babies” and she’d be in a good home, which I was welcome to come see if I wanted… and they picked her up the following day. Sweet and I sat there for the half hour leading up to it and I was just crying, and she was cuddled on his lap in silence. It was a horrible feeling. Then I got the phone call – the guy was outside. Through my tears I told him the address, and he said “you’re not happy about this, are you?” I told him how much I loved her but I just wanted her to have the best life she could, and so she went last Friday evening to her new home. She hopped right into the cat-carrier, something she’s never done before – almost like she knew she was going. After she left I sat in the hallway just bawling out loud. I went in and Sweet and I hugged for a good while and spent the rest of the evening being there for each other. She was a wonderful cat and we both loved her to pieces. But I know she’s going to be happier being looked after by a nice family… I still miss her terribly.

I’ve never been great at dealing with stress and so I was not a very fun person to be around last week. But luckily for me I have one very wonderful friend and one very wonderful boyfriend who put up with me and reminded me that this was all the start of a new beginning and how much I had to look forward to… and they were right, and they were there for me, and I love them both to pieces.

The weekend came and I ended up at an amazing power metal concert on Saturday night and the Metric show on Monday night, watched a great X Factor finale and started the week off with spirits high. Yesterday I officially resigned, tomorrow I see my lovely girls (and get to have cheesecake!), and Friday will wrap up a busy 2 weeks with a lovely old fashioned date night with dinner and a movie. Oh, and my roommate is moving out early. Last night I witnessed his bed, desk, and computer being hauled away so he is officially no longer sleeping at the apartment, with a promise to be moved out by this weekend. This makes this a ver good week indeed. 🙂

The day I almost lost my toes

Yesterday I lost all my shoes. It could’ve been worse, I suppose – it could’ve been my toes, but it was still a very distressing horrible day. I don’t usually have a whole lot of bad things to say when I write and I apologise for the upcoming vent.
I got up bright and early at 6:30 so I’d have some time to clean my apartment a bit as I knew I was going to be showing it to potential subletees when I got home from work. I swept and mopped and then made myself a nice cup of tea and some breakfast, and sat down and started watching an episode of Casualty. A while in, I hear some scratching coming from by my front door. Rose Kitten is sitting quietly on the couch, so I get up to see what it is. Any early morning chipperness was quickly replaced by an awful sinking feeling in my stomach. Chloe, my usually well-behaved sweetheart of a cat, was wiping her feet just as she does after going to the litter box… on a pile of all my winter shoes . I quickly shoed her away, but the damage was done. There was cat pee all over every pair of shoes I own.

I’ve had cats pee on my stuff before. I’ve had to replace mattresses and duvets in the past because no matter how much you wash it, the smell never goes away. So yesterday morning began with throwing all my shoes into big bin bags, and throwing them all away. I was mortified. Probably about 6-8 pairs in total, including my only pair of running shoes, brand new knee-highs I hadn’t even worn yet, ankle boots, work shoes… and my winter boots I need every day to walk to work in.

Winter boots I’d need in fifteen minutes to walk to work in. I called my dear boyfriend in a panic, realising after he picked up that this wasn’t going to bring my shoes back, but vented anyway. He suggested putting plastic bags over my feet and then putting the boots on – but as much as I love him and as good as his intentions were, I couldn’t bring myself to touch the Cat Pee Shoes let alone walk for 40 minutes in them. So I called my boss, who had a wonderful idea. I still had all my summer shoes – put a pair of those on, and she’d come pick me up on the way in! I’d only be outside for a minute, and could get to work and not arrive smelling of urine. Awesome. I went and grabbed a pair of open-toe sandals from my storage closet and put them over my socks. I still had bags of shoes and rubbish to throw out before my apartment showings, and I was going outside anyway, so I braved the blizzard and ran to the back and threw them out. This took a couple of trips, and then my boss called. She was on my street, but didn’t know exactly whereabouts I lived, so asked me to come wait on the side of the road.

I waited. And waited. Did I mention the blizzard? Finally after what seemed like an eternity of walking pretty much barefoot in snow and ice and minus 25, she called again. “Where are you? I’m at Sobeys”. Blinking back tears from the pain I told her she’d gone too far, and to turn around. “Well come over to the other side of the road so I can see you. I’m at the stop lights, I’ll be a bit. Traffic’s crawling.” I shuffled across Taylor in my sandals and waited on the other side of the road until finally she pulled up. At this point I was crying because my feet hurt so bad.

She figured it was because I had to throw out my shoes, and proceeded to rant about how stupid I was for keeping a cat that had cost me $1000 in the last 6 months and kept peeing all over my stuff. How I needed to put myself first and stop being irrational and that it was just a stupid cat who’s “ruining my life”. I got to work and I knew something was wrong. I went to the bathroom and took off my socks… to find my toes looking like this:
Ouch

I freaked out a little bit. This is why it’d hurt so bad!! I couldn’t walk, and she had a client waiting for her, who kindly offered to drive me to a clinic or to the drugstore to pick something up… but I said I’d be fine and he rescheduled to come in at 4:00 instead. My boss then started yelling at me again. “You can’t work like this, why does something always happen?? If you’re not here, I can’t make any money because I have to reschedule all my appointments and miss out on making money. And if I don’t make any money then I can’t pay you your vacation pay.”

I sat there and listened to her rant, not once acknowledging how much pain I was in. She agreed to let me go home once her husband arrived with some bandages and polysporin, and to sit in her office until he did. She clocked me out at 10:30 “because I can’t pay someone for sitting here and not working.” He arrived at twelve. I wrapped my feet up, hobbled into the truck, and he gave me a lift home.

I spent the day thinking about what she’d said about my cat, and I got ridiculously upset every time I did. It’s true: I have spent over $1000 in the last six months replacing furniture, bed linen, result-less vet bills and now 8 pairs of shoes – and I am trying to get out of debt. As well, she sheds an insane amount and I have people that no longer come over because it’s impossible to get it off my sofas, and it gets all over their clothes. But at the same time when I adopted her I signed something that said I was responsible for her living a safe and healthy and love-filled life. I couldn’t bear to think of giving her back to a shelter – even if it was a no-kill shelter, just thinking of her in a cage like that not knowing where she is, I just about bawled every time I thought of it yesterday. I’d feel like an awful human being because I love her so much. But I don’t know what to do. Do I keep sacrificing in order to make sure my little cat is safe and loved? Or do I “put myself first for once” and not get all my stuff wrecked, but feel like the worst person ever. I don’t know if I could bring myself to do it. I just don’t know what to do.

What I do know though, is that I’m looking for new jobs. I’m meeting with a recruiter tomorrow morning, and I have an interview at Great West Life on the 23rd. I’m in a huge dilemma about my poor cat. But at least I might be getting a new job… and I got to keep my toes.

Nots

I’m not an extrovert or an introvert. I’m not as outgoing as I was ten years ago… but I’m not as shy as I was two years ago. I’m not comfortable being the centre of attention, but I’m not one to fade into the background either. I’m not a follower of fashion, but I still like to look good. I’m not capable of curling my own hair. I’m not a party animal, but will make every effort to occasionally go to a local indie music night just to be surrounded by the fun and energy of a group of people with a common love of something that’s not part of the mainstream. I’m not as into reading as I am at heart. This is something I’d very much like to change. I’m still not a Canadian citizen and I don’t know if I ever will be – this country has been good to me but I still don’t feel entirely like it’s “home”. I’m not a gossip – if you’re not part of the problem or the solution, then nothing positive is going to come of passing on stories. I’m not going to stop giving to my sponsor child or owning animals even if I am living in my overdraft. Kindness is more important than money. I’m not going to be someone I’m not in order to fit in. Maybe this doesn’t make me the most popular kid on the block, but true relationships are infinitely more fulfilling even if their number is few. I’m not sure where I’m going to be in ten years. Heck, I’m not sure where I’m going to be in five years. I’m not going to settle for a job where I’m taken advantage of and unappreciated for much longer. I’m not a fighter. Sometimes you have to take a breath and look at the big picture before you decide your next move. I’m not however scared to stand up to you if you mistreat someone I love. I’m not sure where I stand spiritually, but it’s something that’s growing and evolving constantly. I’m not sure what that means. I’m not a driver. In the past walking Winnipeg winters has been something to complain about, but there’s better things in life to focus my energy on than things I cannot change. I’m not afraid to tell you the truth: if I say something you might not want to hear, it’s probably because I care about you more than you realise and I honestly think it’s for your own good. I’m not who I used to be: I’ve had a few bad experiences but I’m not one to self-pity; I’ve learned from my mistakes and become a better person because of them, with the help of a few very good hearted people. I’m not afraid to tell you about the past, because I know the people that don’t care or judge me for it will still be in my future. I’m not going to hold back on telling you how thankful I am you’re in my life. If I care about you, you mean a lot, and I’m going to tell you that – even if it is weird. I’m not as into video games as I used to be – I find myself feeling guilty if I spend 3 hours in a virtual world of make believe, but will happily spend the same time in a literary one. I’m not a neat freak but I refuse to live in a dirty or messy apartment. A bit of clutter is a sign of a creative mind. I’m not ever going to find anyone more amazing than the love I have right now, and I’m not going to go a single day without stopping to be thankful for that.

Thanks to Kyla Bea for passing along the idea for this post. You’re right, it was harder than it looks!!

“I can’t come to work today, the customers smell too bad”

I don’t mind my job. My boss can be a little trying at times, but on the whole I get to work pretty much solo, listen to BBC radio all day long, make friends with the old people, be creative and design cool things, and even the occasional photography field trip. I don’t call in sick – I’ve finished my shift having thrown up on the job, I’ve dragged myself in with man flu and even showed up with a broken arm before being sent to the hospital. But there’s been an issue recently that’s made it pretty much – no, absolutely – unbearable to work.

The Lady That Smells Bad.

This isn’t a regular case of B.O. we’re talking about here. She looks like a homeless person, and comes in off the streets with numerous bags housing goodness only knows what (open cans of 6-month-old tuna is what I’ve settled on). She’s dressed in a tilly hat covered in poppies pinned on from the last fifty years, an oversized man’s coat, a pair of glasses that look like they belong to Trevor Horn, and accompanied by the worst smell I’ve ever had the misfortune of encountering. I can’t even describe it. I seriously doubt she’s had a bath in the last twenty years, and her clothes are stuffy and musty and just outright dirty. My boss’s husband stands by me on this and last time he was in, he opened the back door, despite it being minus 20 degrees outside.

She sits in here for hours at a time, cutting and pasting together little posters for church events that happened 2 months ago so she can make photocopies and put them up again. She was in here yesterday for two and a half hours – the latter half hour of which I could no longer stand, and after coughing and involuntarily gagging several times, I begged my boss if I could work in her office until she left. This morning she and I had a talk about how we’re going to deal with this. I looked up on a few sites as to whether or not you can actually ban someone from your store for smelling bad. Concensus was that if it’s your store, and you’re not discriminating based on age, race, religion or whatever, and it’s actually disruptive to your workplace – you can kick them out.

But the boss told me it’s my job to do it.

She came in again this morning. I was in the middle of helping someone and so I asked my boss if she could help her. Seeing who it was, she said to her “Emily will have to help you, she’ll just be a minute.” Thanks boss. Thankfully she was in and out today in 5 minutes so I didn’t have to bring it up. But who knows the next time she’s going to spend the afternoon here? Sweet suggested writing a note and handing it to her so I don’t embarrass her out loud, which I thought was a pretty good idea. I’ve also had suggestions of blatantly spraying air freshener when she comes in, or even bringing my own gas mask to work. Seriously though – how do I politely and tactfully tell someone they can’t be here because they smell so bad I can’t work? It’s pretty much the rudest thing you could say to somebody. And I have absolutely no idea how to do it.

Christmas with the Cops

This weekend went by way too quickly and I don’t even know where to begin! I guess a good place would probably be on Saturday morning… which I spent in the company of two of the Winnipeg Police Force. You guys all know about my roommate situation: he’s stolen from me, is a walking health hazard, and is generally a complete prat, and this last week I came home to find myself unable to get into my own bedroom. Recently, I’d had a lock fitted on the door to prevent further things being stolen (and to prevent him entering and stealing usage of the new Internet account I’d had to set up after all the money I’d been funnelling to him for ours went straight into his bank account… and got us disconnected). This had worked pretty well until last Wednesday, when I got home to find that my key no longer fit. After several failed attempts with hair pins and credit cards (I knew I should’ve stayed in burglary school), two of my favourite people in the world helped me cut off my insect screen from the bedroom window, and after climbing up through thoroughly negative winter temperatures and a copious amount of snow, I hopped in. A total ninja moment which I thoroughly enjoyed. My dad proceeded to remove the lock and doorknob and replace it with another, and took the jammed one home for further inspection. The next evening I got a voicemail. He’d taken it apart to find the end of a broken key, jammed in the lock. My flatmate had actually tried to break in.

I was infuriated!! It was about 11:30 at night and I’d spent an hour trying to curl up with cats who wanted to do otherwise, so I got up, made some warm milk (closet grandma, I tell you) and checked my messages. I found myself with a ridiculously strong urge to find him at work and punch him in the face. There’s not a lot of things that’ll get me angry, but this was definitely one of them. I spent the next hour talking to a good friend who calmed me down, and the next couple of days seeking advice from friends on what I should do. I talked to the landlord, who couldn’t legally do anything because he was still paying rent and still on the lease. So we came to the conclusion that the police now had to be notified as it was now officially attempted breaking and entering. I called them, and that’s how my weekend began.

Two cops showed up at my place on Saturday morning. I told them what had been going on, they asked if he was home, and, it being 11:00 on a weekend morning, naturally my flatmate was still in his bedroom, passed out and more than likely hungover. The best part of this day was seeing the police hammering on his bedroom door shouting “OPEN UP, IT’S THE POLICE” and dragging him out of bed through a frightfully embarrassing bedroom full of dirty plates and cigarette butts. Actually, make that the best part of the last six months of living with him. They spent a little while in his room and came out to tell me the bad news: they couldn’t do anything. Couldn’t get a protection order against him because we weren’t in a relationship and were just roommates and there hadn’t been any actual violence or threats. Couldn’t get him evicted because both our names are on the lease and they couldn’t break a lease. And the best part, couldn’t do anything about the breaking in because he “didn’t do it to break in… just to piss me off because I’d been nagging him to clean up after himself.” Is it just me, or is that the most ridiculous thing you’ve ever heard? A friend said he’s found a new line of crime: throwing bricks through my flatmate’s window “not to break it or anything, just to piss him off.” Ri-diculous.

The rest of the day was pretty good though. Finally finished up my Christmas shopping, and boy am I glad I did it before December struck. This does mean I am officially a hardcore poor person for the next two weeks but it also means I don’t have to endure Christmas Shoppers. It was bad enough on Saturday. People with trolleys and bags and prams just barging in front of you just so they get their hands on that video game before it sells out. Good cheer and respect for fellow human beings is thrown out the window, replaced by a goal to buy, buy, and buy some more. I went to St. Ignatius last night and the pastor was talking about this. What comes over people in December to make them behave in ways they wouldn’t normally dream of? There was a story in the paper this weekend too, about a Wal-Mart employee who got trampled to death by Christmas shoppers, who didn’t stop to help. A life was lost as a result of this seasonal insanity, and a pregnant woman pushed over and injured. I’m very glad to be done my Christmas shopping, and most of it online, too. But if you still have gifts to buy, please keep your basic human decency intact!

Went to a wonderful concert in the evening; Steve Bell was playing with the Winnipeg Symphony Orchestra. It was totally sold out, and it was just a wonderful evening with wonderful music, a good message (he was giving away free booklets and DVDs on “Fast for Change”, after a trip to Ethiopia, after really realizing how much we overconsume in Canada) and Christmas spirit. We wrapped up the evening with some friends at Luxalune for a quick drink and then proceeded to spend the next three hours just talking. It’s crazy how sometimes time can fly so quickly. 🙂

Yesterday we put up the tree and I am officially ready for Christmas. This month has so much to look forward to. Tonight I get to spend with a wonderful friend in amazing seats at Lord of the Dance, I have the theatre and the Cannes Lions, an annual tradition that I always enjoy thoroughly. Later in the month I have two concerts, then there’s going to be probably the best Christmas I’ve had in years. And then I get to see one of my favourite people in the world, live on a boat somewhere close to the Hollywood Hills, and then spend New Year’s with a group of people very dear to my heart. Flatmate incidents aside, I think this month might just be the best one yet. At least I have a good story… 🙂