2003-02-09 - 1:30 a.m.

Transitions?

A few days ago I wrote how nice it is that everyone was in a great mood.  That pretty much wore off as soon as I said it.  The rest of the week was kind of rough at work.  I was tired from lack of sleep and irritable because I didn't want to go.  Traffic was really bad on Monday, Thursday and Friday.  I was late two of those days.  I know my new boss has heard a lot about it from the president of the company who feels we should all be sitting at our desks 15 minutes before our starting time.

You see, the president of the company pretty much keeps his own hours.  He can come and go as he pleases. But I have to sit at my desk and answer the phone when it rings.  I am usually not finished with my workday at 5:30 p.m.  Especially when a call comes in at 5:20 that requires a lot of work.  I never know if I will be at work until 6, 7 or sometimes 8 o'clock at night. So what is the big deal if I show up right at 8:30 in the morning?  Or even five minutes late?

The president has a pet peeve.  He wants us to be in the office at least 10 minutes early.  It does not matter if we have to stay an extra hour.  That makes no difference.  It bugs him because he gets in the office at 7 or 7:30 in the morning and then we come straggling in an hour later.  Of course, he leaves on Fridays at noon.  I would like to leave at noon, but I can't.  Why is that?  Oh, yeah, my job.

I talked to David about what I was going to do there.  David used to be my boss. He is a great guy and always went out of his way for me.  He says I should really push my agenda at work and try to get a promotion or something.  I told him I had considered it, but I think a better move would be to get out of there all together.  I still think I am right.

He brought up the subject of our company being bought out and all of us cashing in with our stock options.  That may or may not happen.  He is the second one to bring it up recently, so I wonder if something is going on.  I hope so.

I got home from work yesterday and just sat around like a zombie. I went to sleep and dreamed all kinds of stuff.  Deep, deep dreams.  I remember seeing Squeaks, the little dog my parents used to have.  She was at a concert I was attending.  I was sitting near the back of the auditorium watching the crowd, not the act on stage. The people in the crowd were getting and joining in on a big mosh circle run.   I looked down at my feet and there was Squeaks, the tiny little black dog.  She lived for 18 years before disappearing.  No one knows what happened to her. But she was blind and deaf and had no teeth.  She made her way around by smelling the ground.  She followed my father everywhere.  She showed up in my dream happy and wagging her tail.  It made me feel better.

I woke up this morning to the sound of the beeper going off.  I am on call this weekend and at 9:30 in the morning the damn thing is chirping.  I was so disoriented I thought I was late for work.  It took me a minute to figure out what was going on, where I was, and who I am.

The anger welled up inside me as I stopped living and started working.  I called the client back and she went on and on and on. I had discussed this with her on Friday.  We had agreed to talk on Sunday.  But she could not help herself and she called me early Saturday morning.

After talking to her I tried to go back to sleep.  But I was awake and that was it.  I took a shower and started cleaning up my bedroom.  I have been living like a slob for the past month and I don't care.  I had been thinking about my friend Dorothy and how I had not heard much from her recently when the phone rang.  It was her.  Her father died.  He had been sick for years and over the past month had just deteriorated to the point of being bed ridden.  She had sent the past few weeks helping him and spending time with him.  She as with him when he died.

Dorothy is 50 and this is the first time in her life someone close to her has died. She has been dreading this for a long time and now she says she is somewhat relieved.  He was so ill and they had all worried about for a long time.  She watched him for a while after he died.  It was hard for her to process what had happened.  Then the men came to take him away to be cremated.  And she never will see him again.

We talked for a while about what it was like, how her family would react and what would happen next.  She told me a few funny stories about him.  In his last few days he was sort of out of it.  He asked Dorothy to get the tape measure and measure the file cabinet and the drawers.  She did.    He family thought she was crazy, but she figured it was 2 in the morning and why not measure the file cabinet if it made her father happy.  In his mind it was important and it calmed him down.  She wrote it all down on a pad for him.

I met her father a few times.  He was a big, friendly guy.  A real salesman.  He came from some wealthy family up north.  You know, nannies and prep schools.  He lost all of the money he inherited, I think.  By the end of his life he and his crazy shrew of a wife were living in a small apartment.

I was hoping Dorothy would come by tonight, but she didn't.  She was probably wiped out after going back over to her mother's house.

After talking to her on the phone I went to the men's store and bought a jacket and pants.  I have been meaning to get a new jacket for a while.  I had a salesman help me.  He looked at me and told me I am a 46 regular.  He was right.  I picked out a blue blazer and gray trousers.  Then I waited for the guy to measure me for alterations. The alteration guy was younger and, although I don't know for sure, it struck me that he was gay.  I guess I assure all guys working in clothing stores are at least a little gay.  When he got down on his knees in front of me to arrange the cuffs of my pants I almost laughed.  I wanted to say, "yeah, bitch!"  But I didn't think he would think that was funny.  He stayed down there for a while.  Longer, it seemed to me, than he did with the other guys he was altering.   And he would not look me in the eye after that.  He seemed a little nervous.  I think he liked me.

I stopped by a thrift store on the way home and bought a really great shirt for $1.98.  I usually don't buy used clothes.  I usually don't find stuff I want to wear.  But this is a Gap shirt that looks like it has never been worn.  It's pretty cool, and for that price, if I didn't like it I could give it to the dog to sleep on.

But I do like it.  I am wearing it now.

I talked to my friend Kay tonight.  She finally has a job, after six months of no job she found a good one. It is part time, but she probably will make as much as I do. She gets to work from home and they are giving her a laptop to use.  It is a contract job doing something for some web site.  She is very happy to have an income again.  She ran out of money last month and had to borrow some from her parents.

I talked to her for about two hours. She kept doing this thing, she would realize she had been talking for a while and I had not said anything and she would bring her monologue to an end and bring the conversation back to me.  So we had a fairly balanced conversation.  She would ask me a question, I would answer it, that would remind her of something and then she would go off for a while. Then she would realize it and ask me another question about my day or what I had been up to.

God bless her, she did try.  I wonder what she has been thinking that she took special care keep asking about me?  I kept it light, though.

So many changes going on right now.  People passing away, new jobs, new attitudes, and new decisions.  I need to stop thinking now and go to sleep.

Jimmy
 

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