work

The Dark Side

There’s been a new girl in town since I first posted about my job situation – and I must confess: I don’t like her one bit.

She’s easily irritated, quick to aggravate, and finds her face hurting at the end of the day after sporting a constant and unbecoming frown. She lashes out and retreats from any form of human affection, instead preferring to curl up, alone, scowling at the world. Her heart thumps harder in true fight-or-flight fashion in a vain effort to beat out of her chest, desperate to get away from the stress of the situation in which its owner is placed. Her cheeks flush and hands tremble in a feeble effort to join it. She stomps down slushy streets unaffected by the mess she’ll make, pretending to talk on a cell phone, led forward by gritty perseverance and furrowed brows, no longer stopping to smile at strangers, or hold open doors. The black of her clothes complements the storm clouds of her demeanour, and the love and compassion of her soul has already escaped, leaving behind an ill-tempered, hostile recluse; an empty cage where her heart used to be.

She knows not where she is going. All control over her situation her been extricated, leaving her reluctantly in a dusty and derelict limbo. Her hands have been pried open; her grip on the future that seemed so solid lost. The world’s endeavours of peace and reassurance evaporate before seeping through into her heart, obstructed by an invisible armour impenetrable to all.

She falls asleep alone, accompanied only by her tears, a downpour of melancholy over the landscape of her bed. Even sleep cannot maintain a hold on her, and retreats elsewhere in the world of dreamers, along with efforts of love and kindness also given the cold shoulder. She spends her nights awake, afraid, entirely unable to let anyone in or see a way out.

This is her opposite – the girl whose life is led contrary to everything she believes and holds dear. Except somehow, in this time of dreadful uncertainty, she’s moved in. Taken over. Destroying everything normal, shaking it up with the hand of ambiguity, removing everything positive… imprisoning reality and unleashing the indefinite nightmare of limbo.

I can’t deal with this. All I need is answers, and nobody is able to give any. I’m asked to participate in an almost farcical scenario in which I act as if I’ll be let go in two weeks, training others and handing off all my duties – but also told not to worry, because I might be kept on.  It’s wrong, and every day is more stressful than the last.  I feel unappreciated and expendable, after I’ve put my heart and soul into this job.  I feel betrayed at being given hope for two months only to be brought suddenly into a harsh reality. But I don’t seem able to switch off. I just want this weight to be lifted, this uncertainty resolved.  I’ve never felt such panic, despair, loss of positivity – my outlook and behaviour this week feels alien. I’m doing everything I try so hard to avoid. I just want to feel normal again.

In limbo, and slightly scared

Some of you know I work in a job a really love.  I started as receptionist and within a few months was promoted to my current position – this place gets major points for always wanting to recognise somebody’s strengths, and put them in a role that allows them to thrive.  Since July, I’ve been in a position where I’ve been responsible for designing all external advertising, writing copy, organising videos and even doing radio voiceovers (shudder, lol) – as well as being moved to a roomy, big-windowed office shared with three other wonderful ladies who’ve become close friends.  We motivate each other, encourage each other to reach our goals, we’ve held lunch hours together doing yoga, or cuddled around a table watching Britain’s The Apprentice sharing sushi.  I love it there, and I’m so blessed to have been given opportunity after opportunity to challenge myself and grow – if I hadn’t, I honestly think I’d still be battling every day with my anxiety.

It’s been wonderful, and I’d like nothing more than to stay there as long as I could.  But we’re a non-profit, funded by the government on an annual basis – each year the proposal goes in with better stats and results than the last year, and we get funding for another year.  It’s been renewed every year since 1996, and this year we wrapped up a huge three-year research study with incredible results – it’s been a record-breaking year in helping people find employment.

The position I’m in right now was always a term position.  A mat leave ending in March, with the plan, at the time, to go back to reception should nothing else open up by April 1st.  In December, my boss and I had a conversation.  About how I had a heck of a lot more to offer and didn’t want to go back.  I wanted to contribute – I wanted to grow, and I wanted to keep helping the organization with the skills I’d developed in the role.  I asked the question: should I be looking for other employment?

My boss assured me I’d be fine – they’d put a proposal in for another two positions to open up, both of which I’d be frontrunner for, and “if she should I should be looking, she’d tell me.”  And she didn’t.  I went on Christmas break and recent holiday worry-free, assured that by late January we’d have a good idea if we’d have the budget to keep me (which we probably would) – it was just a matter of getting the proposal approved by the government.  On my first day back this week, I was greeted with hugs, cupcakes – and an email from my boss telling me the advertising budget had been cut.  Not great – but this meant we knew something about the budget!!! I went to her office to talk about the further updates on the likelihood of my staying…. and it wasn’t good.

They still didn’t know.  Budgets in other departments were being cut as well as mine, and we still didn’t know if the two positions I’d be “perfect for” would even be approved.  We’ll know for sure before March 31st – the day my position ends.  If we’re not getting approval…. I kind of feel like I should be using this time to look elsewhere, as much as it breaks my heart to do so – because one day is not realistic to find employment. I was also told that should we get approval, the new positions would have to go through an external approval process and a certain amount of paperwork… which would mean the start date  may not be possible for April 1, it could be May or June.

My boss hammered in the fact that she doesn’t want me to go.  But also her understanding that I had to be realistic.  So right now, folks, I’m in limbo.  Do I hold out hope that everything will work out in the next six weeks, hang tight and not send out any resumes? Do I start applying at places right away, because it could very well take me a month to find something if the worst comes to the worst? Or do I take the opportunity to go back to school – screwing over our wedding budget, and putting all living/wedding expenses solely on Sweet’s (very generous and willing) shoulders? I don’t think I could do it – not even considering the fact that our wedding would be exam week.

I’m torn.  I desperately want to stay – and best case scenario, we get approval, and it’s a couple of months before I can go back and start.  That’s doable – I can go on EI for a month or two to get by, or skimp a bit for a little while – Sweet’s been incredible, and I’m blessed to have someone so willing to support me and help me out – but I’m one of those people who needs a plan.  A concrete plan she can follow along where everything happens just as it should.  I hate being in limbo.  And right now, I have no idea what I should do.

Playing to your Strengths vs. Proving Yourself

I’m really lucky to work in an office with three lovely ladies I get along with so well.  We chat, we vent, we motivate each other with our goals and we get together at lunchtime to watch British TV on our computers.  They’ve become great friends, and yesterday, I was chatting with one of them about the idea of playing to your strengths versus feeling the need to prove yourself. 

Our organization is really great for putting people in roles they’re best suited for; I quickly moved into a position where I’m in charge of creating and booking all advertising and marketing material, as well as doing a fair bit of writing, whether for radio scripts, our website or people’s resumes.  I enjoy all these tasks, and after our “achieve your dreams” –themed retreat last year, I told my boss I wanted to challenge myself and start teaching.  

My wish was granted – the thought absolutely terrified me, but I was on a mission to overcome my anxiety and push myself out of my comfort zone.  I wanted to get my confidence back and stop being afraid.  So I was given one class every week.  These people saw past the fear and doubt and trusted me to develop a curriculum and actually deliver the information to people.  I’ve been doing it for a few months now, and yes, it’s become easier – I no longer get butterflies if I have to speak up in a meeting, and I can go into my little classroom and feel comfortable presenting my information, because I’ve had practice, and I remind myself I’m here to help these people.  I’m leaps and bounds from where I was, and I’m incredibly grateful to have been given the opportunity to grow. 

But yesterday I came to a realisation.  I had to give a presentation to a much larger group – and not just students, but other service providers.  Really Important People from across the province were coming to learn about what we did, and it was my job to represent us well.  I totally freaked out.  There were going to be twice the number of people I was used to, and the information wasn’t something I knew inside and out.  They weren’t coming in wearing jeans and hoodies, they were coming in wearing suits, armed with sophisticated haircuts and business cards.  This wasn’t my own little room, it was a big intimidating boardroom.  I was so far out of my comfort zone I panicked – and ended up asking someone else to do it.  For the first time in months I hit something too difficult.  All I’ve done so far in overcoming my anxiety has been little steps; small victories that have left me feeling that little bit more confident.  But this I couldn’t do.  

My current position is a term one that’s supposed to end in March, and the original plan was for me to go back to reception.  My thoughts: not going to happen.  Not to toot my own horn, but I can do a heck of a lot more than answer phones and make photocopies.  On top of the issue with the ergonomic factors and the back stuff I need to do throughout the day, I can’t do it.  So a few weeks ago, my wonderful boss and I had a little chat about The Future, and she told me, as long as we get funding (we’re a government-funded non-profit), there will most likely be a new position I can go into, involving all the same advertising and marketing stuff I’m doing now, as well as “more facilitation”. 

Yesterday, this got to me.  I’m incredibly grateful for everything they’ve done for me here, and I feel like since I asked for the opportunity to facilitate in the first place, I couldn’t really say I couldn’t do it.  They’re making a whole new position for me!  What sort of ungrateful cow would I be if I said I couldn’t do it?!  But I got thinking about the idea of putting people in roles that play to their strengths.  I’ve tried teaching, and though I’ve got a little bit better, it’s definitely not a strength.  I don’t think I’ll ever develop a love for being in the spotlight in front of people, and I don’t want to go to a job stressing out and being afraid to step into a classroom every day.  The experience has helped me immensely in terms of becoming more confident and less afraid, but it’s not a strength.  My strengths are in behind-the-scenes stuff.  I’m quietly opinionated and creative.  I love to write, and I love to design.  I could type for England.  I thrive in the sort of role I have now.  But I had to decide what was more important to me – proving to myself and the company that I was fully capable of being a facilitator (and forever being uncomfortable), or playing to my strengths?  

They say if you put someone in a position that doesn’t involve an inherent strength, they can learn – but they’ll never do as well as somebody who’s naturally good at it.  But if you put that person in a position that plays to their natural talents, they’ll excel.  A few months ago I heard this, and started questioning why I wanted to facilitate in the first place.  I think it was to put myself out of my comfort zone, and prove to myself I could do something I wanted to be able to so badly.  But it hasn’t developed into something I’m good at, and yesterday, my coworker and I were chatting about the importance of playing to your strengths versus proving yourself.

I started to worry, and had to email my boss asking what was meant by “more” facilitation.  What if it meant more people? Bigger classes, bigger chances to fail??  Maybe it meant “more often”.  I could deal with that – small groups, a few more times in the week would be okay.  I went home worrying about what I’d got myself into, and arrived back at the office in the morning to find an email from my boss. 

“Facilitation would be a small part of the position – and it would just be more small groups similar to what you’re doing now.  Don’t even THINK about work on your vacation!!!!”

So it looks like I’m going to get to keep the majority of my position – and the scary part doesn’t seem quite so scary after all.  If anything, it’s another small step in moving forward.  And it’s just the relief I needed before heading off next week.

A little perspective

Today is my second day doing the 30 Hour Famine. It’s my second time doing it; I did it years and years ago in high school and we all camped out at the school and had plenty to keep us from thinking about how hungry we were. This time I decided to do it by myself, and unfortunately it coincided with Sweet’s trip to Minneapolis, so I’ve spent the entire time home alone and it’s been slightly harder. But I decided to use the time wisely, and in addition to cleaning my house and picking up some new contacts, I educated myself a little bit more about the cause I’m doing this for.

I found out a tonne of statistics and watched a bunch of documentaries that just moved me to tears.

• Number of people in the world who suffer from chronic malnutrition: 923 million
• Percentage of children living in poverty in the world: almost 50
• Estimated number of daily child deaths linked to extreme poverty: nearly 30,000
• Number of people worldwide who do not have access to safe water: 1.1 billion
• Number of people who die each year of water-related diseases: 5 million
• Number of children forced to flee their homes and live as refugees: 9 million
• Number child soldiers worldwide: 300,000
• Number of people under 25 who become HIV-positive every minute: Four
• Number of people who die each day due to AIDS: 5,753
• 1 in 8,000 women in the UK die during childbirth; in Africa, the figure is 1 in 8
• Malaria kills a million children in Africa each year, and the worst thing is it’s an entirely preventable disease, and a malaria net only costs $10.

I watched a documentary on a group of people climbing Mount Kilimanjaro, which was SO inspirational. 1 in 3 people who try and climb it don’t make it, and they went through months of training and fundraising to try and raise a million for malaria nets. Over 7 days they struggled through exhaustion and altitude sickness but they made it, and ended up raising THREE million, which was just incredible. I have a copy of the documentary – if anyone’s interested, I’d be more than happy to share. I think you can also find it here in clips on YouTube. Just seeing the footage of people whose children have started off so promising, doing well in school, and then being affected by the disease and wasting away, and eventually dying after a grandmother has carried them for miles to try and find the nearest clinic. It’s heartbreaking. I can’t even imagine. We are so lucky to be living in this country, and people complain about our health service and about the costs of things but we have no right to. I wish people would just take a second to imagine what life would be like if they’d been born in a country like Uganda, had no access to hospitals or medicine, safe water, or even a malaria net. We have so much to be thankful for, and right now I am thankful to everyone who donated to this 30 Hour Famine. If you have a second, you can send a net, and save a life.

Anyway, onto the rest of the week. We’re still buried in snow and it’s still making me want to move away every single day, but things are looking brighter for next week and I’m ever looking forward to summer. I had my first Reiki session on Wednesday, which was slightly bizarre, I spent an hour lying down while the therapist waved her arms around my body and then told me afterwards things that were frighteningly accurate in terms of issues I’d had, things I was dealing with, and I’d never mentioned a word of them to her. Very interesting evening!! I also had my first proper April Fool’s Day at work, which was TONNES of fun; I arrived to my desk and all my photos had been replaced with pictures of a very pregnant co-worker from the 90s; I had someone return a call from “Mr Lyon” and listed the number of the Winnipeg Zoo, there was Vaseline on earpieces, nametags set in jelly and keyboards’ keys all switched around… all in all a very fun day. 🙂 I got some freelance work this week too, which came at a REALLY good time (although I did turn into a bit of a hermit as a result), so I think next week is just going to be a lot of catching up with friends, and making up for lost time with the boy. Oh, and as of six hours from now, eating a great big cinnamon bun 🙂

Clubby McGee, re-inspired

Since Thursday I’ve been affectionately addressed by my boy as Clubby, after I fell down my exciting shiny new stairs (whose novelty has since very much worn off) and broke my wrist. It’s been a few days since I’ve got used to my uber-cast and felt okay enough to write, but I’m off today and figured I’d spend it with a combination of blogging, watching a girly movie, and with my current love, The Time Traveller’s Wife.

Tomorrow, at work, is the end of my 30-day probationary period. I believe this comes with some kind of Employee Review. I’m hoping my boss looks more at me showing up with a broken arm, sick, offering to redesign the corporate image and getting referrals from my old work rather than missing 2 out of my first 30 days and going home because my throat hurt so bad nobody could understand what I was saying. I’m not hugely worried – I’ve had lots of positive feedback and I get on well with everyone, I’ve just had a bit of bad luck… right?

Other than work, I’m happy to say I’ve reconnected with a couple of very dear friends who both recently took (separate) extended trips away; one to Germany, Amsterdam and Rome and the other to Egypt and Morocco. Both these people arrived back in Winnipeg in the middle of a bitterly cold winter after experiencing new cultures, new people, and entirely new ways of life that are all happening all over the globe this very second while we sit here in a city so cold nobody wants to leave their bed for 6 months of the year. It reminded me of when I got back from England and Ireland last summer – I’d gone to a place I feel at home, I’d seen historic sites, spent a day in a wonderful city full of life and colour, visited a university I spent the next few months researching in a desperate attempt to find a way to attend and live in, and saw manuscripts over a thousand years old that moved me to tears. Seeing my friends again who’d taken trips come back into the Winnipeg Blues brought it all back; I heard stories of camping out under the stars in the Sahara desert, taking trips down the Nile, standing next to enormous pyramids that defy historical engineering, and how their way of and thinking had changed entirely after seeing the value of food, of water, and of people in places so far away from the life we lead here on a daily basis. Me and the boy had a Big Talk soon after, about how badly I wanted to go somewhere and experience something like that again, and how desperately I wanted to share it with him. I admire his way of thinking and finding positivity in everywhere he goes in this little city, but I so badly want to explore and learn and just take him with me. We talked about taking a trip, maybe in a year or two, but then we talked about maybe doing a World Vision trip.

I get the e-mails every year. $1,000 – $1,500 and you can take a “Destination Life Change” trip. You join a group travelling to either El Salvador, South Africa, Ecuador, Indonesia or Rwanda. You get to see child sponsorship first-hand and really experience what it’s like out there. I think I want to go. I’ve been sponsoring a little boy in Ghana for the last few years and in just over a month I’m doing a 30 Hour Famine to try and raise money for the charity. Right now I’m sitting at $35 in donations. A lot of people are giving me their apologies, which is fine – but all I’m asking for is a few bucks. If everyone chipped in the cost of a Starbucks it would go a REALLY long way, and I just really want to not only spread awareness, but try and make a little bit of a difference too. So I’m doing that on the 3rd of April. But I’m definitely thinking about looking into one of these trips. How life changing would that be?

Back in the zone

So, er, where was I?

Oh, that’s right, struggling to pick up the pieces after Flatmate From Hell, packing my life into (I swear) at least a hundred boxes, unemployed, and very much stressing at said state of unemployment.

But that was 2 weeks ago.

Now, I have a new job. I have a new house. I have officially said a final goodbye to a long string of flatmate disasters, started working somewhere that exists to help people, just like I wanted, and I’ve moved not only into a new place, but an entire two-storey house with beautiful hardwoods, new paint jobs, my own back garden, two huge bedrooms and a storage shed so I can pretend I don’t own a whole bunch of crap. And I only have a handful of boxes left to unpack! I can’t believe the change that’s come about in the last few weeks. After a couple of weeks without a job, I somehow got multiple offers all on the same day, and I was so excited I took a quick lunch with the boy and called back the one I’d really wanted to work at. They’re called Opportunities For Employment and they’re a non-profit organisation that helps people who might be without computer skills, older, disabled, or on welfare etc. gain the skills they need to be able to present themselves to the workforce and get employed. It’s very interesting and is also part of a research study involving the different psychological levels of wanting to gain meaningful employment too, and tailoring different programs to different stages to hopefully be more effective. I get to be the first person people see when they come in, at my own desk, surrounded by a team of lovely people. I get three weeks holiday and over an hour in breaks every day. It’s very awesome indeed.

Me and the boy also took a big step recently. Probably bigger for him than for me, since it was his first move away from home, but just over a week has passed and we ended the last one with an incredible weekend. The first weekend we exhausted ourselves with packing, moving, lifting and unpacking, and all week we’ve both been working two jobs leaving the only time we have to see each other 6am to 7:15am Monday-Saturday. Saturday night we went out dancing for a friend’s birthday, grabbed some midnight greasy wings and chicken fingers while dressed to the nines at Smitty’s, and spent our full non-working Sunday with a big breakfast, pyjamas, and countless back episodes of Heroes. It was pretty much the best thing ever. Adjusting to only seeing someone five or six waking hours a week is tough, I’m not going to lie. But being able to wake up with them every morning in our first house together, cherishing those Sundays we do have, and knowing this is the beginning of the rest of our lives… makes it all worth it.

Also recently I was part of MillerFest – my first annual Master Playwright Festival. I was one of seven bloggers who got to go see a bunch of plays and write about them, the productions, Arthur Miller and theatre in general. It was tonnes of fun and I learned lots about a very, very interesting man. I only wish it hadn’t been right in the middle of moving, or I would’ve been able to see lots more. Still, I’ve had a good creative fix, and it’s definitely shortened the wait to Fringe. Only 5 more months!

Now I’ve settled down I think I’m going to be back online writing a whole lot more than I have been in the last month. It’s been a whirlwind, but from where I’m sitting now, I very much like the direction things are going. 🙂

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.

“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.

New beginnings

So on Tuesday I quit Best Buy and got my soul back. Huzzah! The bitchy manager who was giving me shit in the first place just took my resignation letter and smiled and said “okay! thanks!” Unfortunately the general manager was in Calgary so I didn’t get to give it to him in person. I gave no two weeks (so no vacation pay :() but this place wanted me to start right away, and I wanted to leave Best Buy right away, so that worked out nicely. I did myself a favour and took 2 days off in between and I had my first day today at the new place.

Okay. This is brilliant.

1. NO STUPID UNIFORM. On my way home dressed in my heels and black trousers and glasses I felt so much more respectable than before, trying to hide my stupid ugly flat black shoes, beige ankle-swingers and bright blue best buy shirt. So that’s good.

2. I work across from a Tim Horton’s. AND I’M ALLOWED TO TAKE WALKS.

3. I get my own desk, my own business card, and I’m taking over for the OFFICE MANAGER. Holy crap.

4. My boss said I won’t need to spend $10,000 at Red River because I’m going to BECOME a graphic designer there and get all the experience I need.

5. I didn’t wake up at five this morning!