Posts tagged ‘employment’

Graceful Moments from a Day in the Life

I would like to take this opportunity to share a verbose montage of graceful moments from my evening. They involve two basic themes: my clothes don’t fit, and I am taking a shitload of vitamins.

My Work Clothes Don’t Fit

First of all, I learned yesterday that tomorrow I must attend a fancy-ass meeting – like seriously fancy, might be broadcast on community television that a whole 5 people might watch – and my “weddings and funerals” blazer is looking hilarious. It fit OK when I was interviewing for my first secretary job in 2005, but I’ve gotten a little plumper and a whole lot more boobalicious since then, and then I got 18 weeks 6 days pregnant. It’s not like the fetus is to blame for this entire fashion crisis, but it is not helping either.

So I spent the evening shopping for a maternity blazer. Of my two local maternity stores, one had a ton of blazers for approximately $200 each, so fuck that. The other one had a single, solitary black polyester blazer, which was only slightly too small, but was also the ugliest thing you have ever laid eyes on.

In a desperate stop at the discount department store, I found a non-maternity, cheap-ass, cotton-and-polyester half-blazer, half-sweater that fits over (nay, disguises) the belly and looks mostly acceptable, when seen from a great distance of course. So I called it a day, and headed home to make some last-minute alternations on the damn thing (i.e. cutting off the ruffles).

The adequate blazer. The ruffles have since been excised with scissors.


The fish oil which my midwives say will make the baby smart come in capsules approximately the size of my little finger. I am not kidding. They are enormous, and I don’t know how anybody ever swallows them. (And no, they’re not suppositories. But man would that be a whole new level of gross if they were.)

The bottle says to take 4-6 a day, but I draw the line at 3. I bite little holes in them and squeeze the oil into a spoon, before making a face and taking it with a glass of water. Sometimes the process goes awry and a little oil spills into the sink, or perhaps onto the floor where the cats can come and sniff at it excitedly.

This evening, I managed to not only miss the spoon, but squirt fish oil at high velocity all over every single thing I was wearing, except the socks. It even soaked through to my undershirt. Amazing!

My whole outfit is now in the wash. Thank the goddess it wasn’t my hard won fancy-meeting outfit for tomorrow. And¬†I only have 2 more vitamins to take before bedtime.


On the upside, I am feeling all kinds of mysterious discomforts in my abdomen that are probably fetus aerobics, at least some of the time.

We got to hear the heartbeat again today at the midwife’s, which is always pretty awesome.

Next week I get to overfill my bladder and go for the big “anatomy ultrasound”, where we’ll get what is probably our last glimpse at the fetus before its birth. With any luck, we’ll find out the sex, and get to SEE him or her squirming around in real time. That will be pretty awesome, and I’ll forgive it the fish oil.

This kid better turn out really smart, though.


Every beginning is some other beginning’s end

Would you believe I got the motherfucking job?!! I’m officially employed from the week after next until the end of 2010. Hello real world + thesis project!

For years, I’ve lucked or negotiated my way into day jobs that were less than full time, so I had time to teach music (and attend classes, and other stuff!) on the side. But this time negotiation wasn’t feasible, so for the first time since 2003, I’ll be at a desk from 9 to 5, 5 days a week. Good for me, I’m sure, and I really hope to get the damn graduating project done during evenings and weekends, sooner rather than later.

The schedule means that music teaching has to go. Happily, my mentor and friend who runs the music studio found a fantastic replacement for me almost immediately. I spent a heartbreaking hour calling up all my students, some of whom I’ve taught for years, and telling them I was leaving them in good hands.

All in all, music teaching has been an amazing experience. Music students aren’t personal buddies, but they’re not colleagues either. Teaching has been a chance to build relationships with people of all ages and walks of life and help them realize their dream of playing an instrument. I really admire all of those folks, especially the adults, for taking time out of their busy lives to follow their bliss.

A few days ago, on my last day of teaching, I was in charge of closing up the studio at the end of the night. One of the other teachers was herding all the students out the door, saying “It’s hotel/motel time, follks! You don’t have to go home, but you can’t stay here!” Into my head crept the little pop song that one of my old roommates used to love: “Every beginning is some other beginning’s end.”

So that’s where I am. To seize this beginning, I had to let some other stuff go. But this is totally the path I want to be on.

Slow down, Earth

Hey there Earth. You’re all fired up and spinning along hotly, but I need you to chill out for just a few months if you could.

You see, I have a fucking job interview next week. I am actually a little worried they might hire me. I’m not really done my masters degree yet, and all the professors like to warn us not to take jobs before we have finished our thesis because otherwise it’s all doom and pain and anxiety. Sometimes people take more than 5 years to finish and then the program kicks them out with no degree. I once knew a guy who accepted a job before he had finished his thesis and it took him another year to finish, and he was so stressed out that he ended up in the hospital for two weeks with a rare and serious blood infection. zOMG, internet.

On the other hand, this rare, humble and temporary job is with my target employer, and I’d be mad not to want it. It’s why I applied, even though I’m not really ready to start work. The grand plan is that they will hire me for this short posting and then the economy will improve a little bit and they will be hiring people again, and find a permanent job for me, and then I can work there forever and then go on mat leave.

Of course they probably won’t hire me. I bet tons of amazing people applied for that job and they all have better interview skills than me. And they won’t try to negotiate flex time for working on a thesis. I’ll do my best by freaking out between now and the interview.

OMG internet, I could be a working woman soon.

The mind and the body are one long braid

Today I feel all fragile. I would have made a great Victorian lady, and when not fainting could have spent my time lobbying for women’s cycling attire.

I want to take action, preventative measures that will help me be able to control my sympathetic nervous system so I can manage to finish my gigs. Linda Stone’s writing about breathing is inspiring to me, and I might just try to have a regular meditation/breathing exercise. Z thinks I might be further expressing my paranoia by obsessing about breathing, but… I don’t know. I want to take control.

Aaaand, in other news, people are so kind to me. My bandmate’s sister-in-law has offered to put in a good word for me in a starter job I want in the local government here. I am overcome with gratitude.