I had a Red Shoe House meeting at The Agency today. Karen, my old boss, met me at the door of the building to let me in. She was on her way out for a cigarette.
"Stay outside with me for a bit," she said. So I did, and enjoyed the familiar feel of it all. I used to step outside with her all the time. She'd have her smoke, we'd talk about work or non-work things, or not really talk at all.
"How are things going?" I asked.
"Busy busy as usual."
She used to scare the shit out of me. She can be hard to read, hard to figure out, and I know I'm not the first person who's found her a bit cold. The thing was, I would see her be all friendly with other people, but whenever I was my light and funny self she'd just stare blankly at me like I'd just suggested we tell the restaurants they should stop selling the big M hamburgers. Still, I missed that place the moment I left, and every time I go back to the office I get nostalgic. When I found out they were hiring for my old job again (this time at full-time hours) I contacted Karen right away and asked if she would have me back.
"The highest I could pay for that job was XX thousand," she said, which was a good seven thousand below my absolute minimum.
"Yeah, I sort of figured that," I nodded. "but I had to ask anyway." It was a little heartbreaking though. I've worked hard to be able to pay for this house and Truck all by myself, and I'm proud of that, but what if I wasn't single? What if I was with a guy who was making decent money and sharing the bills? Or what if I still lived at home? I could be working my dream job again. I could buy new clothes and shoes every month again.
I did one of those carbon footprint quizzes yesterday. I got points docked because I live alone in a house. Single successful women are environmental burdens, as if we don't feel bad enough (some days, only on some days we feel badly). I just want to point out that because I live in a house and not an apartment I can recycle, compost and choose my own energy efficient major appliances. So I think those things make up for the fact that I am the only one benefiting from turning on a light switch (connected to a CFL bulb, I might add) or enjoying my back yard (where I grow tomatoes and herbs instead of buying the imported ones from the store. Blueberries and raspberries to come. If I could keep my own cow or goat to eat my grass and yield milk, I totally would).
Karen and I chatted a bit more outside. I have to say that I felt a new level of comfort with her. I wasn't the shy, wide eyed rookie anymore. The job will most likely go to a recent grad. She will love it, or at least I hope she loves it and appreciates all the opportunity it will offer her.
Oh to be young again. I did not know 26 qualified for any kind of wisdom or wistfulness.
3 comments:
As usual, this post was a pleasant, cheerful thing to read first thing in the morning. And yes, 26 is the beginning of the "age of discretion", after the weird limbo netherworld of the early twenties. I imagine Dante was 26 when he met Virgil. Don't feel too bad about your carbon footprint - you aren't producing CDs, or Humvees, or drilling for oil.
Sam.
If only everyone was as wise at 30 (and 40... and 50...) as you are at 26. Wise and talented--if I haven't told you lately, I still think it: your writing is amazing.
I did a carbon footprint assessment thing a while ago and I totally thought I was gonna kick ass on it (notably the absence of a car), but I forgot about the 8-10 flights a year that I take...
Post a Comment