Last first: I am in Corvallis, sitting at the Beanery, enjoying the old digs and listening to a rather hot singer, makes me think of Foxglove, in one of the few and brief respites from speeding in all directions. The dogs are at Ma’s house, the birds and cats are in the garage, Shannon & I are sleeping there as well.
Where was I? Leaving southern Oregon, leaving that house, leaving the frustrations and despair and my workplace. I almost made it, too, but the house was still a wreck and Shannon & I had to practice due diligence to set right what we could, clean what we could, organize what we could, leave direction for what we couldn’t…it took three days to do all that, and we still left things undone. Away, then, away we fled, so quickly that none might follow and drag us back. Tuesday last we worked until noon, drove until five –
– and the old workplace caught up with us. I had a consultant job, doing the same data entry and manipulation I’d done for them during my tenure, that no one else wanted to do but that needed doing. I charged a moderately exorbitant fee, which they accepted, and my former boss followed his usual procrastinatory habits. I forged a connection to their computers by six, and then worked through until seven the following morning.
I told my former boss that, if he had more for me to do, it could wait until noon when I would have rested, and at that point there wouldn’t be time to enter it. I was as done as I would become. $390 to the better, and my first independent gig.
Next day we started looking for a house. The criteria are: cheap, nice, accept two large dogs, five cats, and fifteen birds, all while being a very short commute to work. Amazingly, there are such places — all rented.
Uh. Respite over. Time to get the wife and so forth.
Crossposted from Epinepherine & Sophistry