Yes. I'm in.
The signature came through (not without a few hassles of course). I will be teaching not one, but two college courses beginning next week. Suddenly I have to put two syllabi together, plan 15 weeks of class meetings for both classes, fill out a stack of paperwork for HR*, get my fingerprints taken and a TB test done and buy a parking permit. All before Tuesday. Today is Friday.
This is an emergency hire situation. I believe that everyone involved understands that some things won't be done before Tuesday. The four books for one class are ordered and three of them are already in the bookstore. The three books for the second class are ordered and will be in the bookstore next week. Oh, I forgot to mention that one class is on the Santa Rosa campus where I currently run the writing center. The other is in the evening in Petaluma where I live. Yeah, I'll be a very busy little bee until mid-December. I am not complaining. But for a couple of days I wasn't sleeping well at all. My brain would not turn off.
I am very excited. This week I was able to sit down and work with a few students in the writing center, which is simply my favorite part of the job. It felt so good to interact with them and their writing. Staying where I am feels like the right place to be. That may change. When or if it does the change will be okay and I'll move on.
For now, it is so very nice to feel good about being where I am.
*The stack of HR paperwork says that it must all be completed and returned no later than 5 days before I begin work. The paperwork came to me yesterday, so according to the directions I should have had it back to them yesterday afternoon. Yeah right.
Lake Mendocino
Friday, August 29, 2008
Sunday, August 24, 2008
Anticipation
Waiting.
I feel like I have spent a great deal of my life waiting.
I'm not talking about waiting in line, I don't often have the patience for that, I'm talking about waiting for things in life to happen.
I spent way too many years waiting for my parents to come get me. And chunks of time waiting for boys to call. And years waiting for my hubby to stop napping and help take care of things around the house.
There are sometimes when waiting is easy because I turn off my brain and space out. This skill is reminiscent of childhood and sleeping during long car rides to make the time go by faster. I go into a self imposed waking sleep mode when waiting for doctor's appointments or for time in a day to pass before a special date.
I feel like I've been waiting for my professional life to start since I finished graduate school. Initially there were very legitimate obstacles in my way, like dying parents and grief. And in all honesty, things have been moving, albeit very slowly, in the right direction.
This weekend I am waiting for one more signature on one piece of paper that will allow my department to hire me so that I can teach a college course. In theory, the signature is a formality, almost certainly to happen with little or no struggle. Nice theory, but I have been through disappointment at this job and know better than to assume all will work out as planned. I tried very hard not to get high on excitement, I know better. But it's hard and my brain simply won't stop planning classroom assignments and activities. It is impossible to space out or go into a waking sleep mode because I have other things to do. Consequently I can't turn my brain off.
In the meantime, the anticipation is killing me. And it's exhausting. Will I know on Monday? Tuesday? Good God, I hope so.
I feel like I have spent a great deal of my life waiting.
I'm not talking about waiting in line, I don't often have the patience for that, I'm talking about waiting for things in life to happen.
I spent way too many years waiting for my parents to come get me. And chunks of time waiting for boys to call. And years waiting for my hubby to stop napping and help take care of things around the house.
There are sometimes when waiting is easy because I turn off my brain and space out. This skill is reminiscent of childhood and sleeping during long car rides to make the time go by faster. I go into a self imposed waking sleep mode when waiting for doctor's appointments or for time in a day to pass before a special date.
I feel like I've been waiting for my professional life to start since I finished graduate school. Initially there were very legitimate obstacles in my way, like dying parents and grief. And in all honesty, things have been moving, albeit very slowly, in the right direction.
This weekend I am waiting for one more signature on one piece of paper that will allow my department to hire me so that I can teach a college course. In theory, the signature is a formality, almost certainly to happen with little or no struggle. Nice theory, but I have been through disappointment at this job and know better than to assume all will work out as planned. I tried very hard not to get high on excitement, I know better. But it's hard and my brain simply won't stop planning classroom assignments and activities. It is impossible to space out or go into a waking sleep mode because I have other things to do. Consequently I can't turn my brain off.
In the meantime, the anticipation is killing me. And it's exhausting. Will I know on Monday? Tuesday? Good God, I hope so.
Sunday, August 10, 2008
That's The Thing About Vacation
It's re-energizing.
I wish now that we had planned our vacation earlier in the summer. Last year, for so many reasons, we ran–sprinted–out of town in mid-August to escape the death and destruction that was plaguing us. This year we very civily looked at the calendar and chose dates according to what seemed to work around the rest of our life.
My goals for this summer break (I am not scheduled to work from the end of May thru til about mid-August) were to write creatively and work on marketing myself as a freelancer. In hindsight I realize that I didn't really schedule time to relax or feel. This was a foolish plan because I knew intellectually that I wasn't able to deal with all of my emotions and grief from last summer's losses last summer and would likely have a difficult summer emotionally. (I just can't seem to give myself a break!)
I was off work over spring break and accomplished a lot, and it felt really good. I assumed, erroneously it turns out, that with more time off over the summer I would accomplish that much more. But I felt un-inspired, un-productive, unhappy. Everything felt a bit heavier. Thoughts that would normally flit through my brain instead stayed much longer than necessary and swirled around and around creating a tornado of air and nonsense. On the outside everything slowed down to an excruciatingly slow pace. Movement was more difficult, and I began to feel discouraged about working out, writing, cleaning, working, most things.
I really started to wonder if I needed to change anti-depressants. All too familiar feelings of my lack of worthiness as a writer, co-provider and life partner began to mount. I found myself excited about less and less of the activities in my life. Even packing for Sea Ranch wasn't a big thrill. It was helpful to wrap my mind around the organization aspect of meal planning and shopping, but when asked if I was excited about going on vacation I could honestly that no, I wasn't.
Maybe it is as simple as getting away from the day-to-day, from the familiar, because getting away felt so good. Breathing in the sea air felt restorative. It was as if the air that flowed into my lungs had special molecules of renewal attached to them. The stars above had the nicest things to say amidst their twinkling. Being alone with my favorite people outside of the day-to-day routines at home and work was just lovely. We could just be, or laugh, or talk, or enjoy a movie or music together. Sitting on a bluff or the beach watching the waves crash against the rocks, it is easy to get lost in the waves, they have their own soothing rhythm that pulls my mind away and it goes wandering off without a care, traipsing lightly over the foam and the sand, weaving in and out of the clouds, happy to be.
While we were there I started a new essay, blogged almost regularly, and began to reassess my work area at home. It was clearly time for a change, which I have since made. I moved my desk downstairs and out of the bedroom. I feel a bit exposed down here, but for now I think that is the point, not to be holed up in a corner feeling inadequate.
Now that we are home the heaviness is gone. I am working out regularly again, I am looking forward to going back to work. I updated my website and added some lovely testimonials from past clients. I am mulling the kind of ad copy I need to write to expand the freelance side of my writing and editing. And I'm still blogging!
Thanks to a week away, I feel recharged. That's the thing about vacation…
I wish now that we had planned our vacation earlier in the summer. Last year, for so many reasons, we ran–sprinted–out of town in mid-August to escape the death and destruction that was plaguing us. This year we very civily looked at the calendar and chose dates according to what seemed to work around the rest of our life.
My goals for this summer break (I am not scheduled to work from the end of May thru til about mid-August) were to write creatively and work on marketing myself as a freelancer. In hindsight I realize that I didn't really schedule time to relax or feel. This was a foolish plan because I knew intellectually that I wasn't able to deal with all of my emotions and grief from last summer's losses last summer and would likely have a difficult summer emotionally. (I just can't seem to give myself a break!)
I was off work over spring break and accomplished a lot, and it felt really good. I assumed, erroneously it turns out, that with more time off over the summer I would accomplish that much more. But I felt un-inspired, un-productive, unhappy. Everything felt a bit heavier. Thoughts that would normally flit through my brain instead stayed much longer than necessary and swirled around and around creating a tornado of air and nonsense. On the outside everything slowed down to an excruciatingly slow pace. Movement was more difficult, and I began to feel discouraged about working out, writing, cleaning, working, most things.
I really started to wonder if I needed to change anti-depressants. All too familiar feelings of my lack of worthiness as a writer, co-provider and life partner began to mount. I found myself excited about less and less of the activities in my life. Even packing for Sea Ranch wasn't a big thrill. It was helpful to wrap my mind around the organization aspect of meal planning and shopping, but when asked if I was excited about going on vacation I could honestly that no, I wasn't.
Maybe it is as simple as getting away from the day-to-day, from the familiar, because getting away felt so good. Breathing in the sea air felt restorative. It was as if the air that flowed into my lungs had special molecules of renewal attached to them. The stars above had the nicest things to say amidst their twinkling. Being alone with my favorite people outside of the day-to-day routines at home and work was just lovely. We could just be, or laugh, or talk, or enjoy a movie or music together. Sitting on a bluff or the beach watching the waves crash against the rocks, it is easy to get lost in the waves, they have their own soothing rhythm that pulls my mind away and it goes wandering off without a care, traipsing lightly over the foam and the sand, weaving in and out of the clouds, happy to be.
While we were there I started a new essay, blogged almost regularly, and began to reassess my work area at home. It was clearly time for a change, which I have since made. I moved my desk downstairs and out of the bedroom. I feel a bit exposed down here, but for now I think that is the point, not to be holed up in a corner feeling inadequate.
Now that we are home the heaviness is gone. I am working out regularly again, I am looking forward to going back to work. I updated my website and added some lovely testimonials from past clients. I am mulling the kind of ad copy I need to write to expand the freelance side of my writing and editing. And I'm still blogging!
Thanks to a week away, I feel recharged. That's the thing about vacation…
Saturday, August 2, 2008
Seaweed and Sea Lions
We took the puppies out for a much needed walk, and to find a beach for them to run around on. There are several beaches in the private Sea Ranch area, and interestingly, they all kind of look alike. They are all at the bottom of a rather high bluff, the only way to get down to the surf is via man-made stairs. There is always an alcove to the right of the stairs, full of various sizes of rocks, and often enough a large log which is a useful resting place. There is also tons of seaweed that has washed up on the shore.
The seaweed lurks just off the coast like a wild sea garden. One of our houseguests wondered if it was piles of garbage. Other than the occasional bulb I came across as a kid visiting the beach (and the stuff wrapped around my California rolls), I know very little about what looks like an alien creature floating in the water, lurking in plain sight. They resemble a giant octopus or squid in that there is a head and tons of "tentacles." But unlike what I imagine a live creature to do, they simply float, their "heads" sticking up out of the water, and move at the whim of the tide.
During another walk we found ourselves in a grove of trees, many of which were clinging to the bluff that surrounded a small inlet. We were sure that we were watching a seal bobbing up and down in that little area, maybe contemplating exploring one of the tiny water-made caves that we could see. We watched this thing for quite awhile before we realized it was not a sea lion head, but a seaweed bulb. This realization came just after we noticed that the mass underneath the head had several extra limbs.
We did manage to see some real, live sea lions while walking along a stretch of open bluff. They were cute and had what appeared to be normal amount of body mass, and only one tail.
On the second beach we found were piles of seaweed that had washed up on shore. And they smelled. The smell was akin to rotting flesh. Thankfully the beach was just wide enough that we could get some distance away from the largest piles, Molly and Teddy cavorted and played a bit and hubby and I sat on some large rocks. Teddy seems to love being near the ocean, but he also gets nervous when he is there more than a little while. Molly tends to go with the flow more. We sat for awhile on a pile of rocks until a family came down the stairs, with their dog on leash. Two pre-pubescent boys and one young girl proceeded to explore the bottom of the bluff and let the waves wash over their feet while mom held the dog on a long leash.
They were at the opposite end of our little alcove of a beach, so we watched them for awhile, keeping Molly and Teddy on-leash. Things got a bit dicey when all three kids were knocked down by a wave they weren't expecting. There are signs posted all along the bluffs that the surf is very dangerous, so we watched the kids more carefully hoping that they would stay further away from the water's edge. Ultimately their exploring and bravado turned to simply playing catch with water, which you always win unless you wait too long before running back up the beach as the waves move to nip at your heals.
On the way back to the stairs, we stumbled across a dead baby sea lion. It had been on the beach the entire time, and was the reason for the rotting smell. It was a light brown, the exact same color as the other driftwood that was strewn about. I suppose we just assumed that it was a piece of wood when we first walked passed. It is surprising that the dogs didn't notice it before we did. Even more surprising is that we didn't step on it when we were walking over the rocks and piles of seaweed. That would have been a very nasty surprise. Although it looked like a log, you can bet it didn't have the same texture, nor the strength to hold our weight.
The seaweed lurks just off the coast like a wild sea garden. One of our houseguests wondered if it was piles of garbage. Other than the occasional bulb I came across as a kid visiting the beach (and the stuff wrapped around my California rolls), I know very little about what looks like an alien creature floating in the water, lurking in plain sight. They resemble a giant octopus or squid in that there is a head and tons of "tentacles." But unlike what I imagine a live creature to do, they simply float, their "heads" sticking up out of the water, and move at the whim of the tide.
During another walk we found ourselves in a grove of trees, many of which were clinging to the bluff that surrounded a small inlet. We were sure that we were watching a seal bobbing up and down in that little area, maybe contemplating exploring one of the tiny water-made caves that we could see. We watched this thing for quite awhile before we realized it was not a sea lion head, but a seaweed bulb. This realization came just after we noticed that the mass underneath the head had several extra limbs.
We did manage to see some real, live sea lions while walking along a stretch of open bluff. They were cute and had what appeared to be normal amount of body mass, and only one tail.
On the second beach we found were piles of seaweed that had washed up on shore. And they smelled. The smell was akin to rotting flesh. Thankfully the beach was just wide enough that we could get some distance away from the largest piles, Molly and Teddy cavorted and played a bit and hubby and I sat on some large rocks. Teddy seems to love being near the ocean, but he also gets nervous when he is there more than a little while. Molly tends to go with the flow more. We sat for awhile on a pile of rocks until a family came down the stairs, with their dog on leash. Two pre-pubescent boys and one young girl proceeded to explore the bottom of the bluff and let the waves wash over their feet while mom held the dog on a long leash.
They were at the opposite end of our little alcove of a beach, so we watched them for awhile, keeping Molly and Teddy on-leash. Things got a bit dicey when all three kids were knocked down by a wave they weren't expecting. There are signs posted all along the bluffs that the surf is very dangerous, so we watched the kids more carefully hoping that they would stay further away from the water's edge. Ultimately their exploring and bravado turned to simply playing catch with water, which you always win unless you wait too long before running back up the beach as the waves move to nip at your heals.
On the way back to the stairs, we stumbled across a dead baby sea lion. It had been on the beach the entire time, and was the reason for the rotting smell. It was a light brown, the exact same color as the other driftwood that was strewn about. I suppose we just assumed that it was a piece of wood when we first walked passed. It is surprising that the dogs didn't notice it before we did. Even more surprising is that we didn't step on it when we were walking over the rocks and piles of seaweed. That would have been a very nasty surprise. Although it looked like a log, you can bet it didn't have the same texture, nor the strength to hold our weight.
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