S is for Selfish...

Yes,alive, well and kicking. So a hearty THANK YOU for not giving up on me.

I've given myself some time and space this past month to just see what life has in store for me. Here's what I've discovered....

1. I'm really good at laundry
2. I'm a kick ass cookie baker
3. I'm really glad that if I was going to have a week-long debilitating head cold, I wasn't two weeks in to a new job.
4. If I don't sweep EVERY DAY it looks like there is a molting grizzly bear playing hide and seek in our house.
5. 14 is the magic number

After 14 job applications to any job that remotely interested me, I finally had a call last week for a job interview. The posting is very similar to the last job I had in Not For Profit, so it was a relatively easy chat.

Following a five minute conversation which felt like a lovefest of ME ME ME, I waited to see if I qualified for a face to face interview. I did, and yesterday I made the hour-long drive, 70 km return trip, for the hour and a half meeting. Each mile down the road, I'm thinking about how long this drive seems. How much driving time is going to eat out of my day. How the plan to keep my truck indefinitely will have to be revised since I will be driving the crap out of it.

The office is in an impressive building. I felt like Melanie Griffith in Working Girl. This was the vision I'd have for myself for a long time. Beautiful lobby, elevator, office. Just what a career-oriented person would shoot for - and I'm not going to lie - it felt right.

I feel I did well. Probably because I went in with about as much expectation in getting the job as I did about winning the last seat on the final shuttle mission. So I let it all hang out. No nerves, no stress and no hope in Hell. Could I do the job? Absolutely. Do I want it?

Tap, tap...hellooo? This thing on?
Perhaps it's my previous experience with charitable organizations, but for me the question is the pay. Show me the money. I'm at an age where I won't undervalue myself. I know what my skill set is - I know what I'm capable of. I know what the next step in my career should be.

But I've also had six weeks of home life where I've had a bit of a revelation.

I'm a disappointment. A traitor to the Women's Movement. I like being at home. I find myself keeping very busy around the house. Not just with traditional house work, but with the activities I have long yearned to do and simply not had the time to do. Unpacking and settling the house. Reading. WRITING! I feel more creative than I have in years. Probably because other than being off for the maternity leaves for my two boys, I've never been off work in more than 20 years. By MYSELF.

I have days that I can plan for myself. I have been freelancing like crazy for the local paper and truly enjoy it. I'm spending less on groceries because I'm planning, not reacting to meal time. I actually have "down" time where I can watch a movie without guilt, because I have all my work done. My stress level is barely registering.

It was a long drive home from the interview. Pondering and consider the impact of various options. Calculating my mileage, the in-freaking-sane gas prices and the time away from home. What I will give up if I'm offered the job and accept it. What I will give up if I don't.

I don't know that it will be worth it. And I'm trying not to dwell on it and let the pieces fall where they may. I think part of my warped psyche said if I didn't go to the interview, I would jinx myself from ever getting another one.

Fortunately, The Big Guy is totally supportive. I explained that I want to find a job that excites me. Something that can challenge me and give me the financial reward that will justify my skills and dedication. He gets it. Likely because he finally has that kind of job and understands the satisfaction it brings. And I've seen the postings - the jobs that as I read the description gives me shivers. Yup, I get tingly over job postings. You would too if you'd been on poggie for three weeks.

For now, I suppose I'm putting the price on my head - which means I'm worth more at home right now than I am an hour away.

Gloria Steinem is pulling my Woman Card...

When I Grow Up I Want to Be......

The search for the perfect job has been far from idylic.

But then, being laid off during one of the biggest "economic downturns" in recent memory...and during the winter at that, probably isn't helping the situation. Neither is the fact that I'm so used to being busy that having any kind of down time is rather unnerving. Oh, and add to that the daily updats that I'm asked for. People are genuinely interested and concerned, but one does tend to go against the odds when they are looking for employment in a rural area with a Communications background.

There is always another school of thought...

"What did you want to be when you grew up?" asks First Born Son.

The laughter that comes from me takes him back - and in that split moment the hurt and confusion that crosses his stabs at my heart. At what point to we stop believing in what we could be? When does the reality of mortgages, bills and responsibility cloud over the sunny possibilities?

I don't believe in regret. There is nothing in my life I would do over differently - even this time I'm in now. I'm heading toward something, I just have to wait until the timing clicks and I set sail again in a new direction.

So I'm not wallowing in self pity, or despair that I should have done something different with my life. But FBS's question has brought to life a new consideration - I want to love what I do.

If you look at the School Days archive my parents maintained for me, you would have seen a young girl who dreamed of being a cowgirl, a vet and eventually a stewardess. This echoed my interests at the time, animals and travel.

While I have been fortunate enough to travel without having to incorporate handing out snack-sized peanuts, my extent of being around animals has been limited to have a dog - and I look forward to someday having the time and resources to have a horse once again.

What I have now is a young family and I love the time I have right now to do all the cliche house-mommy tasks I've struggled to cram in while balancing a job - baking, cleaning, getting jobs done while the kids are at school so I can enjoy my time with them when they are home. Was it what I planned when I was seven? No, but at the time I didn't realize what all of my options were.

So as far as what I wanted to be when I grew up...perhaps I still have some growing to do!

SH!# They Don't Tell You About Moving

The move may be over, the fallout is still everso evident.

With the priority being to set up the boys rooms, I can honestly say, I haven't been in their rooms, other than to drop off laundry, for two weeks.

Has it really been two weeks????

Sadly yes, and I actually have figured out where the squeak is in the hallway and how to avoid stepping on it early in the morning when head to the bathroom.

No more boxes have been emptied the boys bedrooms because they need their shelves screwed to the walls to display the neverending assortment of trophies, medals and other "essential" display items.

Every trip to the garage is a return route with another box. How did we get so many freakin' BOOKS?

With each box marked KITCHEN I feel like a kid at Christmas. Will THIS be the box that has the dish drying rack???? NO, APPARENTLY NOT.

I also cannot find the HD Box for the fibre hook up. So I have a kick-ass TV which has poorer quality than a computer monitor. Niiiiice. I have actually taken the time to sit on the new sofa, if for no other reason than to make sure it's as comfy as I remember it being in the show room. The Big Guy has fallen asleep on it already - so it's officially been christened.

If terrorists burst into my home and took an appliance hostage - it had better be the microwave, because when my new dishwasher comes in the door, it will become the most prized posession (ahead of some of the individuals for that matter) because hand washing dishes is just about killing me. Aside from the time it takes, my hands have suffered enough with the brutal weather chapping them. My dreams of being a hand model have been dashed. That being said, it would be CONSIDERABLY easier if SOMEONE WOULD FIND THE FREAKN' DISH DRYING RACK!!! HAVE YOU EVEN LOOKED????

I love the concept of finding a place for something, then someone else (you can guess who) comes along and doesn't think it's a logical place for that item, and then relocates it - without sharing with the original individual where it has been relocated to. There are also the random calls at work or on the cell to ask where such-in-such is now being stored. Good Times.

Sparky the Wonder Dog is actually starting to relax - THANKS BE TO GOD. For days he would go out the front door, do his "business" 10 feet from the door and high-tail it back to the stoop and whimper to be let back in. Pretty lame for a big strapping mutt, not to mention the front lawn was giving an unusual aroma to the front entrance when the wind hit certain angles.

We even tried to get him out to the back lawn to explore the 2.5 acres we bought for this very purpose. Within seconds of hitting the deck, he was instantly around to the front entrance again, fearful that we might have forgotten he was out there.

This weekend marks the first official event at Casa on the Hill. Second Born Son's birthday is coming up and we'll celebrate with family this weekend. Here's hoping we don't have to use boxes to seat everyone around the table!