Climbing

 

We walked down to Liberty Park with sandwiches and beverages.  Sat in the dappled sunlight under the trees, watching dogs and their humans. A young man with a guitar sat a few benches down and noodled pleasantly. A tranquil moment with lovely weather. 

Finally got a photo of the rose bush grown up into a tree, on the walk there. Need to figure out what this lovely blue flower is called. 

I've taken a day off worrying, or tried to.  Got a bit of walking in, finally. 

Had the transom window open on Saturday, so Eleanor got up there. Zeppo fascinated, could not figure out how she'd done that.  A little later, a loud thump and crash, as the cast concrete face sculpture hit the little stool then the floor.  Only lost a small chunk from the back of the face, but the stool leg sheared off. Eleanor had apparently decided to get out of the window that way, and shoved it off. She admits nothing, of course. 

Half

 

The shamrocks reappeared. Admittedly they're looking a bit rough, but they are alive and there is a little white flower blooming. 

The garden alive and flowering generally.

Friends over on Thursday, kindly tolerating my occasional outbreaks of sobbing. Comforting and distracting.

I continue to plod along with my careful, methodical applications. Balancing too much hope with too much despair. Call it a glass half full of hope, not so much that I give up when rejected, not so little I curl into a ball and give up. Space at the top left to fill, and avoid spillage. 

Shade

 

Eleanor likes getting between the window and the shade.  I think there were birds.

The Golden Celebration will be blooming soon. Another day or so. 

Not well last night, my gut was... enthusiastic let us say.  Working on the job thingamabob though. 

Furnace

 

Rain overnight, into morning, and more to come this evening.  Garden happy and blooming.  Cooler, having the furnace going this time of year is galling, but we were getting chilled.  I sprayed (with dilute dishwashing detergent) the pink rosebush for all its aphids, then went out with a glove and squished the bulk of the buggers.  

Plans are laid, so now I let it rest. 

Rewedged

 The goth bearded irises are starting to bloom, gorgeous dark purple, seething with style.

I've written up the first draft of my appeal letter, will send it to my WFS counselor for Monday. Preparing for a focused and thorough job search battle plan.  The day off of guilt and movement yesterday is already proving itself necessary.   Sometimes the wobble just gets too bad, and the clay needs to be cleaned off the wheel, re-wedged, and thrown again. 

Algorithms

She was up on my shoulder, pinning me down.  

Yesterday morning I met with a workforce services counselor, and found out a lot of what I've done wrong, and how to do it right. Must relive it all and write up the full story to appeal the denial of unemployment. Lotta emotions, and once riled up stayed swirling all day.  Got into some very dark corners of my mind.  The self destructive ones, with the gates that say No Entry Because of Promises. And I began to resent the promises and the love that required me to make them, wildly spinning thoughts and the spiral twisted me into a hard knot with the decorative beading of spasmodic sobbing.

Slept poorly, (writing in my head over and over) and not much, from 0200 on.  Crawled back in at 0700 and got a couple of thin hours sleep.  Managed to get the invasive thoughts shaken loose and shrunken  down. Exhausted, taking a guilt free day off to let my mind heal and start to work again. Looking for a job today is not the same as it was the last time I got a job.  Have to start with key words to get past the initial filtering algorithms.  Tailor each resume to the words in the job description. That sort of thing. The scattershot approach failed and wasted my dwindling emotional resources.

I gather my wits, orient, recharge. 

Stuck

 Can't go forward, can't go back, someone using my butt as a towel rack. 

V

 V for Vaccinated.  

Shall we all flash the V?  Make it fashionable.  

I continue to plug away at the jobs, with Dylan doing a lot of the initial sifting, he sends me links, I apply to any that I reasonably qualify for. 

Latibulate

Latibulate;(verb) la-tib-oo-layt. To hide oneself in a corner. 

 "Listen to me, your body is not a temple. Temples can be destroyed and desecrated. Your body is a forest - thick canopies of maple trees and sweet scented wildflowers sprouting in the underwood. You will grow back, over and over, no matter how badly you are devastated."

Beau Taplin

Multiplication failure. 

Melanistic

 More applications. Got a couple of calls, for jobs I can't do. One from my first OR, and it was nice to hear that I am remembered kindly, one of my original trainers remembered and recommended me. Unfortunately, it was not the admin-but-not-management position I thought it was. But we chatted for a while.  She even went out of her way to suggest key words she knew from other OR nurses who are transitioning out of that environment.  Haven't found anything yet, but I accepted the lead with gratitude.

Neighbor, who is a resident, was complaining of a surgeon, so of course I asked which one. Not surprisingly, I knew him, and was able to give her some names to drop and invite stories. She was able to put this intel to good use, and had a really good day with him because of it. And she learned a few new off color jokes as well. She then invited me over to meet her friend's new puppy, an all black standard poodle. I have a soft spot for melanistic critters. 

So, some good karma spread around. I'm taking this morning off, to avoid going insane.  I'll finish some applications this afternoon, and do more searches over the weekend. 

Sat out with Eleanor yesterday evening, neighbor's friend was parked in the driveway, with our permission. Eleanor sat by the front tire for a long time, then hopped up on the hood. Well, we knew she'd been a stray at some point - this looks like proof of that. She knew what to do with a car, sit on it. 

Watered the garden this morning. Pulled spiky-seeded-grass and assorted weeds.  

Reading The Constant Rabbit - Jasper Fforde.  It's painfully timely, not just for the UK but here as well, if not more so. A more straightforward story than Fforde usually writes. So far. 

Not

 Did not get the job. Call from recruiter on the other job, no further contact. More applications. 

Feeling lost and dispirited, what if, what if, what if. 

Scared to bits. 

Evening

 If I don't get this job, it's because it would't be a good fit. I can do it, it would be fine, bit of a drive, and I'll have to learn a few newish skills. I was pretty honest, so that if I'm not what they want, they know. We shall see. 

Second call for other job tomorrow morning. This one would be better, I think. More in my wheelhouse, better pay, closer drive. 

For the first time in 30 years, I didn't wake up on Dylan's birthday thinking "It's Dylan's Birthday!" My focus was so much on getthejobgetthejobgetthejob.  When I checked the time and address, I saw the date, and felt awful to have missed this. So, I've made a fuss of him since. And will make up the first hours tomorrow morning. 

We met friends online this evening, which was nice. 

Spent a while with Eleanor in the garden, she explored it more than I've seen her do before. Went all the way over to the Hedge. It's all so green. 

Bearded irises starting to bloom. Not sure how I got this one, first time for it to bloom. 

Hugs

 The sun warm, the wind cool, Eleanor nestled into the grass, and rolled in the catnip, took a melted nap. So green and beautiful, my tiny meadow. 

I have an in person job interview on Monday, and a preliminary phone interview on Tuesday for a different job. Have to dress up, never my strong suit (as it were.) Trying to stay calm and hopeful. The past few weeks, for whatever else they were, were needed.  People need to take a month off now and again. I haven't had this, aside from 6 weeks to recover from my broken wrist which really doesn't count, in my adult life. No wonder I long for retirement, even though it's far too soon. 

Friends we haven't seen in well over a year visited last evening, so much normal and warmth. Eleanor made a fuss of Dave and K, even Zeppo made an appearance, momentarily hopping on the sofa near them (but not touching).  We talked, and talked, and K loved the Persian cucumbers and Dave the spicy pecans. 

The usual Saturday group of friends all back together this evening, meeting over the ether has kept us in touch, but it's just not the same. We are all vaccinated now, and there will be hugs and shared food. We had a few porchnics last summer, but when it got worse, and I was the most likely to get exposed, we opted to take care of each other. 

Really enjoying hugging friends. 

Amoeba

 

Got a good nibble, spoke with recruiter, with an interview to be scheduled early next week. Drug research, have to drive to the office, pay cut, but a good job I can do. Finishing up the application and references. I believe this will be my new job. 

Dylan suggested that the distress I'm feeling is because for so long I had this structure, and I knew what to do when I walked in an OR, brought with me a wealth of experience and knowledge. And that is gone, leaving me vulnerable and adrift. 

I have lost my clay. I am formless, floating. 

Flames died. Sound died. Light died. 

ANGHAMMARAD. 

Anghammarad looked at his hands. There was nothing there except heat, furnace heat, blasting heat that nevertheless made the shapes of fingers. 

ANGHAMMARAD, a hollow voice repeated. 

“I Have Lost My Clay,” said the golem. 

YES, said Death, THAT IS STANDARD. YOU ARE DEAD. SMASHED. EXPLODED INTO A MILLION PIECES. 

“Then Who Is This Doing The Listening?” 

EVERYTHING THERE WAS ABOUT YOU THAT ISN'T CLAY. 

“Do You Have A Command For Me?” said the remains of Anghammarad, standing up. 

NOT NOW. YOU HAVE REACHED THE PLACE WHERE THERE ARE NO MORE ORDERS. 

“What Shall I Do?” 

I BELIEVE YOU HAVE FAILED TO UNDERSTAND MY LAST COMMENT. 

 T. Pratchett, Going Postal

Onward

Starting to find intermittent solid ground. Re-wrote my resume, and immediately thought of something else to add. 

I have often known the obvious, but not stated it, because it was obvious. In this case, specifically, that I have played my role in numerous clinical studies, as they come through the OR.  I have been a subject in a number of studies, out of personal interest and a sense of duty to my patients and community including Utah Hero Project.  I am a citizen scientist for Your Wild Life, and for iNaturalist.  I've kept up on the ethics of how studies are run. 

Onward, forward. 
 

Tepid

Tsunami of grief,

Exposes raw naked floor

Then overwhelms me. 

The one aspect of all this, though, is that I know my decision to call it was correct. Out of the frying pan, floating in the hot air currents, waiting to see if I land in the fire, or can glide out to safety.  I could not stay in the pan, no matter what. 

Mostly I'm numb, with intermittent sobbing. 

And our hot water heater is a tepid water heater, which is about what we needed. 

-no more R, the misognist, yrumpist, rep who treated me like crap.

-no more fauxnewz in the lunchroom.

-no more performative cleaning instead of actually doing necessary work.

-no more of the 4 meangrlls (one of whom is male) to avoid.

-no more sore back from 10 hours on hard floors.

-no more re-doing work I'd already done, undone by turnover staff

-no more anti-vaxxer staff, but we were not allowed to ask who

-no more being the only person who makes sure on the second to last thing, that that thing gets restocked

-no more residents who can't introduce themselves and get their own gloves. 

-no more being the only person that can take a ring off in preop

-no more stopping untrained staff from thinking they are anesthesia techs

-no more pushing my wrists until they spasm

-no more grimly ignoring the anesthesia guy who should also retire

Note, none of this is about patients, or even surgeons or scrubs. 
 

Found this, though. 

Anesthesia machine repurposed into a drinks cabinet/bar.  I sent it to my friend who scrubbed so long until her shoulder gave out, and they hired her as an anesthesia tech there. She was amused. I expect she'll share it where appropriate.

Scattering

Cleaned the front porch of first layer of accumulated winter debris and dust. It's a good place to sit when it's 78˚F with a bit of cloud and a light breeze. 

Allowing my zippingponging mind to settle is difficult, especially since it require not-doing. 

I did reach out to friend-co-workers yesterday, which helped. I don't want to pester them, but it seems they welcome the contact as well. And I want to know the fallout. One high school teacher told us to find out what we liked to do, and figure out a way to get paid to do it. I am nosey, not a tale-carrier, but I love to hear all the awful details. I really did find my niche.  It soothes my injured self worth. 

I know I'm a fairly difficult person, not that I try to be. So I try to make up for it by working hard, living honestly, helping wherever I can - and as quietly as possible. I just try, all the time, not to be liked for it - but to be given a bit of benefit of the doubt. A little credit for doing my research, working out a good solution, making life a bit easier. 

We are having a couple of friends over this evening, for the first time in a year. More than a year. It feels weird and good.