I didn’t think much of it at the time. “Hey, the Pacific Science Center has an exhibit about the Terracotta Warriors.” “Oh, that sounds neat.”
Some days later: “You need to put in for three days off in early August.” “Why’s that?” “Remember that exhibit I told you about?” “Ah. Neat!”
So last Wednesday morning, we departed by train for Seattle.
I love being an Oregonian. It means that I took care of my civic responsibility over a week ago. If you haven’t yet… please do.
No, today’s fun isn’t about voting. It’s about leaving on a business trip. I’m headed to IT Nation in Orlando FL for the rest of the week. Yay? I haven’t been through the airport/airline/hotel process since the Datto training a couple years back. My anxiety levels are, as you could probably guess, stratospheric.
I’m bringing the same duck as last time, though, so keep an eye on my (rubber duck) Twitter (and maybe Instagram) for some of that, won’t you?
Wish me luck.
As I did last month, this month I took a pair of three-day “staycations” to burn more of that overabundance of time-off hours before they expire. Great idea, right? I’ll get things done, right?
Let’s see.
Last week: The heat arrived. Setup the air conditioner and mostly stayed in front of it for three solid days, accomplishing little else. Of course, once Saturday arrived, the hot weather went away.
This week: I think something I ate on Tuesday disagreed with me. Violently. Quite violently. I have spent most of three days either in bed or in the bathroom, never far from either.
Oh well. If I hadn’t taken these days off for vacation, I’d have ended up using them for sick days. Convenient that I scheduled my illness in advance, isn’t it…?
This week is getting an early start on kicking my ass:
Is it too late to throw my hands up and head back to bed? (Yes. Yes, it is.)
I walked out the door this morning, backpack on my shoulder and trash bag in hand. As I reached the bottom of the stairs I looked to the East to see what kind of sunrise we were getting.
Well.
Yeah, that wasn’t too shabby. Then I turned toward the dumpsters and looked up to see… This.
No, but seriously.
I tell you what: Hillsboro Oregon gives fantastic sky, sometimes.
This week I celebrate the completion of nine solid years at this job.
Of course, being who I am, I immediately realize that nine years is how long I had the last job, which means I start worrying that I’m going to do something stupid and get fired here, too. Not that I’ve done much stupid on the job lately, but that doesn’t stop me from worrying about it. (Is there anything which can stop me from worrying. Doubtful!)
I took this job because I needed a-job-any-job-yes-please-now-now-now. At first it was a stopgap, something to pay the bills while I found my way to a “real” job. Now I have certain responsibilities, I’ve finally seen a couple of raises, and things seem to be going well. Given the ridiculous debt load I’m carrying right now, at this point the best things that can happen are that I stay with this company and that the company remains robust and profitable, for at least the next… eight years or so.
Could be worse. As of a couple months ago I’m living close enough to the office to keep the commute down under an hour each way, and circumstances have aligned such that I can generally afford to pay bills and eat and so on. I’ll take it.
