Sunday, December 07, 2008


"But I don't want to pay $1,000," I said sadly to the fifth salesman at the fifth store. Apparently when it continues to dump snow upon my location, snow blowers sell out. Which makes me sad. But I hired a guy down the street to deal with the current mess and will use him again to deal with the additional foot that's supposed to arrive soon.

Living up north may not have been the best of plans.


"Two of these," I murmured, examining bibs and onsies and tossing them in the bright red cart. "Two of those," I decided, selecting bottles in pretty colors. "They can share books," I declared, selecting five.

"Sunday," I sighed when I realized that Carrie's new twins will not receive gifts from "Aunt" Katie as soon as I planned. The post office wouldn't accept my large box stuffed with toys and clothes and blankets and books today and I won't have time to stop by until Saturday. This week is going to be another busy one.


"So she said yes?" I asked the people on the phone when we talked an hour ago. I thanked them for taking time to talk on a Sunday and scowled with all my pouting power when they confirmed that WWE had committed to doing this project I think is a fucking terrible idea.

"I'm done talking about it," I told Adam last week, unconcerned when he frowned at me. "If you people won't listen to what I say - even when I'm clearly right! - then screw it. Do what you want."

"We'll meet about it on Monday," he decided and when I muttered that I didn't know why, he raised his eyebrow at me.

"We'll meet about it Monday," I repeated dutifully and narrowed my eyes when he winked at me.

I never get to win.


"I don't know how much longer I can do this, Katie," Beaker said when I told him he didn't look good. I made my sympathetic and thoughtful face at him and considered the situation for a moment.

"I work all the time, too," I finally offered. "I don't know how to manage it, kiddo. It's just constant pressure and projects and timelines. I honestly can't imagine having a family and trying to do this job. It's just hard."

He nodded. I nodded. Then we went back to work.


"I don't want to go!" I told Adam in a different conversation. "I want to stay for the meeting here!" I continued, realizing with some dismay that I was whining.

"Book it," he said firmly and I barely restrained myself from stomping my feet. I turned to my computer to buy tickets and alter my travel plans for next week, not at all pleased about the situation.

"It's going to be over $1K," I emailed him, hoping this provided evidence that it was a terrible idea to not let me come home on schedule. But then I remembered people out east make use of trains to ferry themselves up and down the coast. So I booked a ticket on Amtrak and rearranged some flights so I can eventually get back.


I'm OK - I feel stable and not at all near despair. But this is hard. And, seriously, I never get to win.


Alethea said...

Much sympathy. Some days one does not feel like one prevails. But your hour will come again, promise.

Fighting Harder and Keeping It Together said...

HI! I'm totally new to your blog and started reading your stuff from 2005. I myself am just finishing a PhD and am 27 and am working to somehow get myself a post-doc. It seems we are in a simlar, or were, in a similar situation. I personally don't want to continue in academia, more that I'm working to gain my PhD as a tool. Anyway, the things that you wrote back in 2005 are things that I can completely relate to. Maybe we can be blog-friends and offer good advice. Sending my best, me.

Anonymous said...

I never get to win.

Of course you don't get to win. You're a functionary in a massive multinational corporation during the worst economic downturn since the Great Depression.

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