Wednesday, March 28, 2012

How Crazy Is Made and Other Tall Tales

I spent my evening yesterday cleaning my (hopefully last) rental accommodation. Today I met with my landlord who was surprised I’d spent so much time cleaning the place as it was only going back to the bank and was unable to return my $450 damage deposit immediately due to his family’s financial situation. I have three cheques in hand, each for $150, post-dated for the next three months. I went back to my dad’s place and readjusted my budget accordingly. I’ve removed the return of the damage deposit entirely, as the words I received alongside the cheques were, “I hope they should not bounce by then.” I was planning on taking that money, turning it into US cash, and opening a bank account this weekend. I’ll do the same with other funds and will be fine for it, although it bites our safety cushion a few months. Not the end of the world (or so I hope), but not exactly comforting either. Mind you, I haven’t added my vacation pay-out to the list, as I have no idea what that will look like or how it will be taxed. I imagine it will restock this cushion.

My mind is divided into varying arrangements of chaos. Work is pushing towards a large change initiative (government speak for a new software system) and I've been updating our data to ensure the migration in our office goes well while concurrently developing individual learning plans with data sets and regional technical support addition to my regular work and training our new hire on our automated call distribution queue. I work hard, go home tired, and love the challenge of my job. I'm valued, appreciated, and given responsibilities and roles that help me develop as a competent professional. Yesterday I was given concrete details as to the direction my career with the ministry would have taken had I stayed. Much to my sister's chagrin, she was given similar information and summed it up as, "They pretty much want to make you Queen of Canada."

Let's be clear here. Yes, I know what I'm leaving. I do so willingly and eagerly because living with my husband and having a life with him is way more important than any job could be.

Husband > Job
Let's hope my new job will value me as much as this one does...because I know I have it in me to excel in any workplace. 

I called my nana yesterday evening and we chatted for a while. Our conversation came round to books, as it often does, and we discussed a series my grampa left to Adam, my ex-boyfriend, who Grampa thought would like them for all their biological/ natural interest. My nana is going to bring the books over to me in Vancouver, and we’ve decided I’ll try reading them (I can hear my grampa laughing at this) before I pass them on to Adam. We then discussed another book Grampa wanted me to have: a collection of photographs he took during the World War. I actually never saw it—just heard about it. Hearing my nana describe it left me in awe. I think about my grampa often.

Grampa When He Was Young

I don’t have words to describe what an amazing man he was, but I have stories. Memories. Those are probably even better. 

Nana & Grampa

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