Here I am again.
I think that this is the frustration that I fight every day at work. This is the problem. But when I had the chance, and it didn’t work out, I didn’t double-down, I found a way out.
One of my projects at work has been to get an idea of what we’d pay on the open market if we stopped working with one of our vendors.
I nosed around, found someone interesting, and had a preliminary call to check it out. The call went well— they’ve got a system that I like, they gathered a lot of details about my event. I was very careful to let them know that price was a primary concern, and they said they understood and would take that into consideration. They came back with a pretty pricey bid. I presented it to my boss, who looked first at price. She said she would read the information about their technology that I gave her, but I can’t imagine it’s going to be high on her list, because she said right away that it was so significantly more than we pay now that it’s probably not a going concern.
Today, the sales guy called to follow up on the bid. I told him the truth, that I showed it to my boss, but that I didn’t think it would happen.
So yesterday, while I watched video after video of myself speaking over the last couple of years, the thing that had kept me from watching them did bother me. I haven’t gained much, if any, weight in the past two years, but I did gain weight before then, and I’m sad that I backslid— I had lost 35 pounds in 2011 and kept it off through most of 2012, but then after my strange illness (during which I lost some more weight in a bad I’m-too-sick-to-eat-or-exercise kind of way), I started to put it back on. I wasn’t worried, at first, because I was enjoying being healthy again. I told myself I’d lost a lot of muscle being mostly laid up for three months. But over time, I put back all but 5-10 pounds of what I’d lost (and I really fight those 5-10 pounds return most of the time), and I liked my body better when it was smaller. Whether I should or not.
I didn’t let it blind me to the smart or the funny or the good things those videos had to tell me, but the self-loathing and body shaming voices in my head? No mute button on that remote.
So along with the good things I saw (and I did deliberately look for good things— please read the previous post before you shame me for my body shame), I thought “two years no progress? Really? I’ve got to turn it around.”
Not a new thought for me. And I ended up in a not-a-new-to-me-place, about it. “I wish I had some roller skates!”
When I got off work last night, I knew mom’s computer guy was going to be at the house, working on the upgrade that needs to be done by tomorrow. After days of running into road blocks, I recommended that. I think he’s probably doing more than is strictly necessary and I hope she’s not spending hundreds to make it happen, but honestly, I’m glad it’s off my plate and I’m not going to criticize the person who’s doing it. She trusts him and feels good about it, and I’m glad to be out of the equation, there.
Since we weren’t going to do our regular Wednesday thing, I thought I might mow the grass.
The computer guy looked at me, impressed, and said “you literally just got home from working all day and you’re mowing the grass?”
I smiled and said “We looked for a self-mowing lawn but it didn’t work out. It turns out that if I want the lawn mowed, I’m going to have to do it.”
Was it really only a week ago? I think it must have been, which blows my mind, I had a bad day. Like an “I can’t take it anymore” bad day. And I was talking with my mom about it and she stepped up beautifully and told me to find something that didn’t make me feel like this.
Last night, I was kvetching again (in a much milder way), and she asked “what would you do if you didn’t work there?”
When I started my last job, early on, my boss mentioned that she worked every weekend. To that point, I had been an hourly employee, and I only worked overtime when it was approved, and I’d been told it wouldn’t be approved at this job. I didn’t know whether it would be approved or not (it turned out that I was salaried, so any overtime was unpaid), but I couldn’t imagine I’d just give up my weekends without being paid for them.
Fast forward eight years to a time when I was working 40+ hours of unpaid overtime a week and suddenly, it looks more like I should just have listened when she told me what it was going to be like to work there.
I am prone to understatement, in most situations, and I think it’s because my mom is prone to hyperbole. An actual interaction from last night:
Me: “You’re online with your desktop, finally.” (we didn’t bring all the cables to her computer when we moved, or if we did, she hasn’t unpacked them [don’t get me started]. I’ve gone out and bought another one, but she put it somewhere and we couldn’t find it, and so I’ve had to replace it again, so I can upgrade her computer before Microsoft stops giving away Windows 10 later this week. In the meanwhile, she’s been using a spare laptop I had, and has had everything she’s needed— access to the internet for email, voicemail, and games.
Mom: “Oh, thank you! I’ve done without for so long. I’ve wondered what it would be like if I ever got up and running again!” (I promise you, there was no sarcasm, here.)