I self-diagnosed my...self...with tendinitis in my right shoulder. Tendinitis is a four-vowel word that simply means the tendon(s) in the afflicted area hurt like a red hot poker dipped in acid whenever I dare ask my arm to do something functional like lift or reach back. The worst and most offensive activity to my irritated limb is getting dressed. Oh my goodness, I swear, every time I put a shirt on or take one off I vow that it will be the last until this heals up. It's been a week so according to the Internet I have about another two to go. Flip a coin: every day is going to be either pajama day or birthday suit day. Heads I win, tails you lose.
I hurt my shoulder shoveling snow. I was so focused on lifting with my knees and protecting my back I didn't consider at all that my arm needed any attention. Now it certainly is commanding it, reminding me every chance it gets the consequences of lifting and throwing a kilogram of snow repeatedly.
"I thought you went to the gym," my mom said when I told her about the injury. Yeah, I guess I now regret skipping out on doing reps with the snow shovel bench press machine.
So I've been limiting my workouts to just the cardio machines until the itis takes leave. I've tried a few different therapies--ice, heat, ointments, wine, shopping...On Tuesday I have a massage appointment. How perfect that I find myself in need of a paramedical service during my final days of my generous benefits package with the Cardboard Box Factory. Five more days, yo.
Sunday, February 27, 2011
Tuesday, February 22, 2011
Riel Fun day
Stat holidays are precious and not to be squandered, especially when one has no other means of taking holiday. On Monday morning--Louis Riel Day in Manitoba--I started the day right with a breakfast of carrot pancakes with my mom. The recipe for carrot pancakes is one of many delectable concoctions in my new Cooking Light cookbook. Think carrot muffin but lighter and flatter with pure maple syrup on top. So very good.
After breakfast I sat in the sunbeam in the living room. I had nothing to do for an hour when I was planning to head to the gym to work off the maple syrup.
I don't remember the exchange of words that took place, but some how I proposed an impromptu shopping trip across the border as a way of spending the rest of the day.
"Bye," my dad waved.
I looked over at my mom, my travelling mate. Surprisingly, she was game although I think she thought I'd have sober second thoughts. I drove back to my house to pick up my passport and pack some winter driving rations (protein bars and almonds). When I got back my mom asked if I had changed my mind.
"Nope, I still want to go," I said. So my mom hurried to get her coat and purse. We got in the truck and got started on the twelve-hour adventure.
Knowing that whatever I bought would be eligible for duty charges I exercised some restraint. I passed up shoes and some good Bath and Body Works deals. My resolve crumbled a bit though at TJ Maxx where I couldn't pass up a great deal on jeans ($29.99 for 7 jeans and $16.99 for Levi's). I also indulged in a gift box of soap that smells like a boozy cherry-vanilla dessert and one litre bottles of shampoo and conditioner that are paraben and sodium laurel sulfate free. They too smell delish, somewhere between lemon meringue pie and the yellow Mr. Sketch marker. Before checking out I added to my haul a new journal ($4.99). It has a Paris-themed cover and features the sage words, "Follow your dreams" in black script. My friend "Delores" told me the same thing not long ago after I poured out my heart about my career woes. I like to set an intention for every journal I begin and I believe these words will do nicely for the upcoming chapters of my life.
"In for a penny, in for a pound," I told my mom when she cautioned me about the likelihood of us getting charged duty on our purchases. They usually only assess the GST on the Canadian value of the total. With the dollar flirting with parity these days this is little more than a service charge. My total at that store alone was $86.
I thought we would be heading home by six or seven because A) the stores would be closing early in honour of President's Day (they did not) and B) because my mother would fret about driving home in the dark. Mom was happy and carefree though so we didn't leave town until 8:30.
My total for the day was $143.28 and my mom's was $55 but we sailed through at the border. Perhaps it was because I assured the guard that most of our purchases were clothing and a quarter were "soap and stationery". He asked me if I realized that we were over our limit. I nodded and answered affirmatively, not at all shy about the touch of pride in my voice. We shopped, we had a great time and we were fully prepared to be hauled inside to pay our few dollars in duty in exchange for the brief vacation from the mundane. But he just handed me back the passports and sent us on our way. Woo hoo!
Other highlights of the day:
After breakfast I sat in the sunbeam in the living room. I had nothing to do for an hour when I was planning to head to the gym to work off the maple syrup.
I don't remember the exchange of words that took place, but some how I proposed an impromptu shopping trip across the border as a way of spending the rest of the day.
"Bye," my dad waved.
I looked over at my mom, my travelling mate. Surprisingly, she was game although I think she thought I'd have sober second thoughts. I drove back to my house to pick up my passport and pack some winter driving rations (protein bars and almonds). When I got back my mom asked if I had changed my mind.
"Nope, I still want to go," I said. So my mom hurried to get her coat and purse. We got in the truck and got started on the twelve-hour adventure.
Knowing that whatever I bought would be eligible for duty charges I exercised some restraint. I passed up shoes and some good Bath and Body Works deals. My resolve crumbled a bit though at TJ Maxx where I couldn't pass up a great deal on jeans ($29.99 for 7 jeans and $16.99 for Levi's). I also indulged in a gift box of soap that smells like a boozy cherry-vanilla dessert and one litre bottles of shampoo and conditioner that are paraben and sodium laurel sulfate free. They too smell delish, somewhere between lemon meringue pie and the yellow Mr. Sketch marker. Before checking out I added to my haul a new journal ($4.99). It has a Paris-themed cover and features the sage words, "Follow your dreams" in black script. My friend "Delores" told me the same thing not long ago after I poured out my heart about my career woes. I like to set an intention for every journal I begin and I believe these words will do nicely for the upcoming chapters of my life.
"In for a penny, in for a pound," I told my mom when she cautioned me about the likelihood of us getting charged duty on our purchases. They usually only assess the GST on the Canadian value of the total. With the dollar flirting with parity these days this is little more than a service charge. My total at that store alone was $86.
I thought we would be heading home by six or seven because A) the stores would be closing early in honour of President's Day (they did not) and B) because my mother would fret about driving home in the dark. Mom was happy and carefree though so we didn't leave town until 8:30.
My total for the day was $143.28 and my mom's was $55 but we sailed through at the border. Perhaps it was because I assured the guard that most of our purchases were clothing and a quarter were "soap and stationery". He asked me if I realized that we were over our limit. I nodded and answered affirmatively, not at all shy about the touch of pride in my voice. We shopped, we had a great time and we were fully prepared to be hauled inside to pay our few dollars in duty in exchange for the brief vacation from the mundane. But he just handed me back the passports and sent us on our way. Woo hoo!
Other highlights of the day:
- Eating at Five Guys Burger and Fries, a first time experience for both Mom and I
- Finally putting a check next to my to do of trying a Culver's frozen custard flavour of the day (it was marshmallow Oreo, very yum)
- $2 knee high socks with a big red heart on the cuff that I found at Kohl's
Friday, February 18, 2011
Today I quit
I knew I was ready and hungry for change. I knew I had to be the one to pull myself out of the old and into the new.
Sometime in the summer of last year I hit the wall and was ready to give up on my communications career. My work wasn't giving me any satisfaction anymore. None. I felt like the more I tried to create happiness the more elusive it became. I couldn't even remember what had ever made me passionate about communications in the first place.
So unhappy was I that I started exploring other career path options and how I could get onto them. I was in the middle of exploring the steps to becoming a career counsellor when I got a call for an interview for what looked to me like a dream job, a dream communications job.
At that moment I realized there was still something in me that got excited about creating and delivering messages to an audience and so I jumped off of the alternative career path and back onto my initial one. This opportunity I had was the most amazing looking thing I'd ever had land in my lap. It was with one of the Big Four accounting firms with oodles of perks like concierge service.
I studied hard for that interview, like I had never prepped before. I spent a weekend writing out notes on chart paper about how I met the qualifications and rehearsed interview questions. I made it to the Partner interview and then waited for weeks before I finally got the word:
"You have some impressive skills and talents, but we've decided to go with someone who has more experience."
It was a phrase I was going to get a few times more yet. At a low point after not being offered another "dream" job I'd interviewed for I felt lost and questioned my decision to recommit myself to my communications career. My mom pretty much had to scrape me off the floor one night in a puddle of tears. What good was believing in yourself, I thought, if no one else believes in you too? I felt like I had failed at my own promotional campaign. I interviewed for and lost out on five different jobs in a span of three months.
In late January I found a posting that was something different. It was in communications, but not corporate communications. There are very few not-for-profit organizations I'd consider working for because I believe you need a lot of passion about the cause to work for it. Cancer, heart disease and diabetes are all terrible and have touched my family, but none have had much resonance with me yet.
When my uncle died last summer it turned my family upside down with pain and grief. I also remember though the comfort that came from the fact that my uncle was able to be a multiple organ donor. My dad and my aunt spent a long night at the hospital while the coordination took place but they relayed back to me the positive experience they had with the organ donor coordinator and how hard she worked to find recipients for my uncle's organs. My dad said over and over again that he had great admiration for the woman and what she does every day.
My new job, which I start on March 7, will not be to coordinate organ donors and recipients, but to inspire people to become donors. As the new communications coordinator I will be tasked with increasing awareness about the importance of organ donation and communicating how one becomes an organ donor. Currently, about 94% of Canadians believe organ donation is a good thing, but only 40-50% actually sign their cards and tell their family their wishes. Therein lies my communication challenge. I believe that organ donation not only saves lives, but also makes heroes out of every day people. It doesn't matter if you were a saint or a miserable jerk when you were living, you can still make the ultimate difference in a stranger's life. I am honoured and thrilled to be the person in charge of spreading that message.
Once again, I marvel at the journey I took to get here and how every heartache had its merit. Life is like a mural--much too impressive to spend examining and fretting over the small details. It is when you take a step back that it all comes into focus.
Sometime in the summer of last year I hit the wall and was ready to give up on my communications career. My work wasn't giving me any satisfaction anymore. None. I felt like the more I tried to create happiness the more elusive it became. I couldn't even remember what had ever made me passionate about communications in the first place.
So unhappy was I that I started exploring other career path options and how I could get onto them. I was in the middle of exploring the steps to becoming a career counsellor when I got a call for an interview for what looked to me like a dream job, a dream communications job.
At that moment I realized there was still something in me that got excited about creating and delivering messages to an audience and so I jumped off of the alternative career path and back onto my initial one. This opportunity I had was the most amazing looking thing I'd ever had land in my lap. It was with one of the Big Four accounting firms with oodles of perks like concierge service.
I studied hard for that interview, like I had never prepped before. I spent a weekend writing out notes on chart paper about how I met the qualifications and rehearsed interview questions. I made it to the Partner interview and then waited for weeks before I finally got the word:
"You have some impressive skills and talents, but we've decided to go with someone who has more experience."
It was a phrase I was going to get a few times more yet. At a low point after not being offered another "dream" job I'd interviewed for I felt lost and questioned my decision to recommit myself to my communications career. My mom pretty much had to scrape me off the floor one night in a puddle of tears. What good was believing in yourself, I thought, if no one else believes in you too? I felt like I had failed at my own promotional campaign. I interviewed for and lost out on five different jobs in a span of three months.
In late January I found a posting that was something different. It was in communications, but not corporate communications. There are very few not-for-profit organizations I'd consider working for because I believe you need a lot of passion about the cause to work for it. Cancer, heart disease and diabetes are all terrible and have touched my family, but none have had much resonance with me yet.
When my uncle died last summer it turned my family upside down with pain and grief. I also remember though the comfort that came from the fact that my uncle was able to be a multiple organ donor. My dad and my aunt spent a long night at the hospital while the coordination took place but they relayed back to me the positive experience they had with the organ donor coordinator and how hard she worked to find recipients for my uncle's organs. My dad said over and over again that he had great admiration for the woman and what she does every day.
My new job, which I start on March 7, will not be to coordinate organ donors and recipients, but to inspire people to become donors. As the new communications coordinator I will be tasked with increasing awareness about the importance of organ donation and communicating how one becomes an organ donor. Currently, about 94% of Canadians believe organ donation is a good thing, but only 40-50% actually sign their cards and tell their family their wishes. Therein lies my communication challenge. I believe that organ donation not only saves lives, but also makes heroes out of every day people. It doesn't matter if you were a saint or a miserable jerk when you were living, you can still make the ultimate difference in a stranger's life. I am honoured and thrilled to be the person in charge of spreading that message.
Once again, I marvel at the journey I took to get here and how every heartache had its merit. Life is like a mural--much too impressive to spend examining and fretting over the small details. It is when you take a step back that it all comes into focus.
Wednesday, February 16, 2011
...soon
Loyal ajillstory.com readers: I apologize for the lack of updates as of late. Life has been a flurry of, well, life. I am happy, healthy and well and I have much to say...soon.
Tonight I am looking forward to sweating out some stress and kinks in Hot Yoga and this weekend I will soak up every glorious minute of the February long weekend.
Tonight I am looking forward to sweating out some stress and kinks in Hot Yoga and this weekend I will soak up every glorious minute of the February long weekend.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)