Just got home from saying good-bye to my Sheryls at Campus Pollyeyes in BG.
Sheryls, who recently helped me select a new wardrobe.
Sheryls, who hosted my bridal shower / bachelorette party.
Sheryls, who drove me to multiple job interviews at Image Source before I had a car.
Sheryls, who got away with lots of RCC rule violations on my watch. 🙂
*sigh* I’ll miss you! Aaron and I will have to come visit you in Boston sometime.
I woke up this morning and just couldn’t bring myself to go to work. It’s not that I hate my job or anything, because I don’t. (Granted, I don’t particularly enjoy it, either.) But I was exhausted and felt like I’d hit some sort of wall.
So, I took a mental health day.
If anyone asks, though, it was a mental health / catching-up day. Which is true: I worked on my website redesign and helped Aaron with the broken washing machine. And caught up on sleep.
During Amy’s visit and our marathon Grounds For Thought session, we decided that I should look for some graphic design classes to take, and maybe get a certificate or an Associates Degree. That way, I’d feel better about my skills and I’d be more confident when applying for jobs. After looking at my choices, though, I can’t really justify paying hundreds if not thousands of dollars to re-learn what I already know.
I found a web / graphic designer posting in Sunday’s Blade, so I sent my resume and portfolio to the e-mail address they gave. Today I got a reply: “This message is to confirm receipt of your email submission, dated 4/26/05.” This does not imbue me with confidence. Also, the scant research I did on the company confuses me, as their website appears to be currently nonexistent, with the domain name being registered by an individual in Seattle. o.O
Anyway, Aaron agreed that taking classes is a good idea, but that maybe I should go for something I *don’t* already know. Like Computer Science. If I knew .NET, or at least ASP and C++ and stuff like that, I’d be much more marketable. Truth be told, I do enjoy what programming I know, so it’s not like I’d be learning skills to get into a job I would hate. I don’t think.
So, yeah. Now that I have my sights set on the horizon yet again, going back to work at my lame bank job seems… lame. But whatcha gonna do? *shrug*
Update: Thread (formerly ImageSource) still has that job posting that I tried for a few months ago. I feel qualified, but at the same time, I feel like it’s just beyond my grasp. I want to cry. THIS is why I don’t get all in job-hunting mode very often.
Myself and Amy, before heading out to lunch and a movie with Aaron. Two days after my birthday, and it’s snowing like a motherfucker. o.O See, Aaron? I *told* you it could happen, and not just in the snowbelt.
Other highlights of the weekend: opening presents from Christmas and Amy’s birthday; dinner with Amy, Aaron, Mark, and myself at Dolly & Joe’s; Amy’s and my three-hour discussion at Grounds For Thought in BG; and, of course, watching Sin City at Levis Commons.
My mom got married for the first time when I was 12 years old. Tom, my stepdad, was the only real father figure I’d ever had, and I continued to spend time with him after he and Mom separated after just two years. Tom and I had a good relationship through my high school years, barring some weirdness here and there. He was an audiophile and an early adopter of technology—he had a CD player in 1987, and both a VHS and Betamax VCR, and jury-rigged surround-sound stereo. He had a distinctive sense of humor and an infectious, deep laugh.
The semester I was off of school, in Fall 1995, I don’t recall getting to see him much. I spent most of my time either depressed at home or hanging out with my friend Mel. That October, Tom died.
Tonight, I spent some time going through my journal, hoping that (for once) I would have written something relevant. As it turns out, I did:
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When I was little, I would get excited about my birthday, just like all kids do. As I got older, and grew to expect less out of birthdays, I got less enthused about them in advance. After all, what’s the point of getting worked up just to get let down? These days, I go into birthdays expecting a day like any other; then, if something good happens, I’m pleasantly surprised.
Today, I was pleasantly surprised.
I’d already gotten my iPod from Aaron, thanks to my managing to ruin the surprise. I knew something was up with Sheryl, because earlier this week she’d asked where my office was. I also knew that our department was planning a pizza party for lunch, because Holly couldn’t keep it a secret, and had to know what kind of pizza I liked. So, I knew something was up before I even came in this morning.
I’d thought maybe the early arrivers would decorate my cube before I got to work—but no. I arrived to two cards (one from the whole department and one from Scott) and a lucky bamboo plant (also from Scott). That was cool. I put water in my bamboo plant’s little home and prepared to start my workday.
Not long after, I got a hand on my shoulder and a “Boo!” shouted at me (in an indoor voice, of course). I offered the standard reply, “Boo who?” before I turned around—and, holy shit, it’s Sheryl! She brought me two pots of mini daffodils and a gift card to Lane Bryant! *squee* She hung around for a couple minutes before going back out and heading to work (but not before talking to Rob Wozniak, who didn’t recognize her at first).
I coasted on a good mood for the rest of the day, enjoying my springy cubicle and the Twinkie tiramisu Scott made and the pizza for lunch and… yeah. It was a good birthday. At least, as good as having a birthday at work can be. 😛
And now, the documentation:
My shelf is all springy now! Daffodils from Sheryls in back and bamboo from Scott in front.
I put the other daffodils by my computer, so I could look at them all day. I actually took this pot home with me after work, though.
My birthday cards: The one on the left is from my coworkers, and the inside reads: “Smells just like a birthday card, doesn’t it?” or something to that effect. The one on the right is from Scott, and the inside reads: “Forget about that low-carb diet!” Heh. Then there’s the gift card from Sheryl in front there.
OMFG. Twinkie-misu. Twinkies cut in half, soaked in espresso (or strong coffee), layered on the bottom of a 9×13 pan. Coffee ice cream on top, Kahlua (if you’re not at work), Cool Whip, with mocha fudge drizzled and chocolate crumbled on top. To. Die. For. (Assuming you like coffee.)
Good day. Yeah. And Amy’s coming over tomorrow! Yay for birthday weekends!
