My sister's birthday was Feb. 19th but we haven't celebrated it yet, since every year she picks somewhere astrology indicates she should go to get good karma (or something) for the next year. In the past it's been New Zealand and Japan,, last year Seattle, but this year she picked Houston since international flights are still a little iffy with Covid. Afterwards she went to a hotel in NJ, then to my aunt's and has been there or NYC ever since, so we still haven't managed to get together. 

Before she left I made her choose what she wanted me to bake for her birthday cake/pie and she chose this Mint Chocolate Cookie Cake. Coincidentally, all of her "organic" demands go out the window when it comes to something she wants. Which means *evil laugh* I get to bake a full-fat, full-sugar recipe for once in this house without hearing someone bitch and moan about it.

Not that I've totally stopped baking - I just do it on the weekends instead. Two weekends ago it was blueberry cornmeal bread (with homemade jam layer), last weekend bran muffins, lemon curd, and coconut macaroons, and now this cake. I refuse to completely give up the hobbies I developed while unemployed just because I'm working 40 hours a week again, and I think that's a wise move. If you're going to put in the time, effort, and brain power to learn something, abandoning it for a year or more usually means you're not going to pick it back up, and over time you do forget.

So Saturday is cake day, and Sunday is belated birthday party. I have a little tin of Bob Ross Happy Little Tree mints to give her and I figure she can use the tin as a travel case for the myriad of vitamins and supplements she takes every day. Since she still has no apartment, and won't have one, gifts have to be small and portable to be useful. Baking is easier than gift giving, lol!

It's officially been three weeks since I started and I still feel great about this job! I've had the experience from starting somewhere and beginning the job hunt again after two weeks because it was just a miserable place to be, to feeling pushed beyond my limits within the first year. Basically I've never had a job that took me on as a permanent employee immediately where I fit in so quickly, but didn't have to work like a dog and still not be able to fulfill the needs of the organization due to office politics, mismanagement, or understaffing.

Don't get me wrong, I have always worked very hard and I continue to give 100% when there is work waiting in the inbox. But I appreciate SIB so much more from experiencing the massive levels of dysfunction at most of my other jobs. From veterinary offices to universities to publishing to LIB there was always a fundamental problem with how things were run that was completely out of my control. And as study after study has shown, employees with high demands placed on them but little control over the root of those demands leads to burnout. I was absolutely Exhibit A.

Maybe it was for the best that I flamed out when I did. The health damage that I've caused myself isn't reversible, but it seems to have been stopped before the true point of no return since I haven't gotten sicker. Because of the pandemic I was able to explain my "career break"  (as they're calling them now) in interviews when I was looking to reenter the workforce, and even though I got rejected from a lot of jobs, the one that mattered came through. I think I'm somewhat safe now to say that I will be a success at this job, and while I'm sure there will be parts that I don't like or that don't work, I don't see that fundamental, fatal flaw I ran into in other places. I hope I can continue to say that long-term because I see myself having a career here, not just a job.

I'm finding it SO much easier to put in extra time in this job since I'm working remotely, and because the amount of work is also not completely 100% effort all of the time like LIB so I don't feel like my brain is fried at the end of the day. Basically I log on 15 minutes early and usually log off 30-45 minutes after shift end, so even though it's a solid ten hours of work with one half hour break for dinner, I feel like I've accomplished enough that I can leave guilt-free.

I really wish I'd seen this posting in December when they first posted it since I probably could have gotten settled into a new apartment before the rents started rising, but as things stand I may start seriously looking soon. I need to keep repeating that I'm just here to save money until then. I can ignore the daily "Are you still working" question ten minutes after my shift is supposed to end, the random daily arguments between my mom and dad, and the other truly weird parts of living here as an adult. I'm almost at the point I can live and work the way I want to again.

My mom always had a love-hate relationship with having children. She was afraid she would be as bad at parenting as her mom, but actually loved us deeply, so she just tried to control every possible aspect of our lives and make life perfect as a coping mechanism. This came to a head as we became adults, where she wanted us out of the house but still tried to micromanage our jobs, our living situations, and our relationships. My dad wasn't much better as he always judges anything and everybody by his lived experience of never being good enough for his dad.

Take all of this for what you will. It was far from the most dysfunctional environment to grow up with, but I'm sure you can imagine the constant push-pull that ensued, and the pervasive feelings of inadequacy that inform my reactions to life situations to this day despite a fair bit of therapy.

Work is the majority of every day again and my time is not subject to their control in the same way it was, so I see another control cycle setting itself up. Even though I told them when I was interviewing that as much as possible I don't want them listening in, nor do I want a constant barrage of critiques when I get off the call, of course it happened. I kept insisting and finally the comments were about half of what they originally were, which I call a victory. Now every single day I'm on about 2-3 calls with colleagues, vendors, HR, IT, and the other people necessary to properly onboard and learn the systems so I can be an effective employee. My parents want to control and comment on what I say even though they have never worked for something larger than a school system and would be woefully out of their depth if they had to handle half of what I do. I've mostly held my tongue except to reiterate: I am working. I have calls at X and Y times so I need relative quiet. Thank you, but I can handle this without your input.

I've kept my temper so far, even when my dad wanders into the dining room (now my office) like a lost puppy because he's used to chatting with me on and off in the TV room while I'm sewing (my unemployed pandemic lifeline) and now he's bored and lonely. I say hi, sorry, I'm working, do you need anything right now? No, ok, and turn back to my screen. My mom and I went to yoga, our normal Tuesday morning activity, and when I got out of the shower she proudly presented me with a sandwich on the bread she wants me to eat (instead of the white bread that's mine), cut into quarters. I thanked her for it, silently thanked my lucky stars she didn't cut the crusts off too, and ate it before logging on for the day.

This has suddenly become real to them. Even though they harassed me to find a job, any job, they are realizing that instead of having me available to grocery shop, help with cooking, help with cleaning, or filling the car with gas I am committed elsewhere and the responsibility falls back on them. I'll help off-hours but otherwise no. And they are realizing that as much as they put up with my sister and I here during the pandemic, I have a very clear intention and ability to move out within the next 6 months which leaves them with two problems.

1) I will be on my own and they can't micromanage me to the degree they're used to any more.

2) My sister will still be here with no plans (that we know of) to work again or to help around the house. She hasn't lifted a finger in two years except on her "creative endeavors", so I'm not holding my breath for her to suddenly realize she should put in minimal effort and money to live here. And that's between her and my parents to resolve.

On some level I am annoyed that they are treating me like a child who just landed their first job. I have 18 years experience in the industry and I don't need to be monitored or fed, but I breathe through the feeling and remind myself to thank them. It's too late for them to change their patterns, so I need to be the one to create new boundaries and not fall prey to the same dynamics I grew up with. I can be the bigger person here, and we will all adjust.

Yesterday I started the job at SIB and so far I love it. I'm rusty after a little over two years without access to all of the databases, and I have access to about 5 or 6 new ones that I knew existed but didn't have a password for, but overall I feel like given a bit more time I'll be just as good as my colleagues. While SIB has a smaller staff, they also only have a fraction of the work and while I'm still working my way through piles of administrative onboarding they understand that I can't be fully devoted to the queue (or the inbox, as they call it).

It's strange to not be so understaffed that we have ten times what we can realistically handle and it's a feeling I want to get used to since what was happening at LIB was RIDICULOUS and taught me exactly how a business should never be run. In all conversations about my former employment I force myself to remain stubbornly upbeat though, since that chapter is done and it won't benefit me in any way to drag that along with me. Also, since at least three of my current colleagues worked for LIB in the distant past and they remember it as a far more functional workplace than what it evolved into, why tarnish their memories?

This morning I woke up at 9, went to yoga, and still made it back in time to start my shift at 1. I am enjoying the 1-10 shift even though I've always worked daytime before but the adjustment seems to be going fine. It's more of a problem to get my parents to not walk in and start asking me about when I want to eat or tell random stories, but that's why I plan on moving out. Not just for personal privacy, but for proper work privacy as well since there are no doors I can close on a workspace here without shutting myself in a small bedroom or tiny closet.

So far so good, and I hope it continues on in that way. Maybe this is the start of a truly new chapter in my life that won't suck.

Five hundred posts. It took me fifteen and a half years with breaks here and there to reach the five hundredth post on this blog, which is hard to believe in so many ways. It began the month I started at LIB, and ran through the Great Recession, Hurricane Sandy, the pandemic, the end of my career at LIB, and now the start of working at SIB. More than the national or international events, however, this has chronicled some of the most personally tumultuous years of my life and that means more to me than writing about world events. There are far better journalists and pundits who can analyze and opine on those whereas I am the only one who can know what is going through my head, even though that's often not well defined either, lol. I can look back on what I've written and have a window into that time and place.

I start my job with SIB on March 7th and will take it as a new chapter. The war on Ukraine rages on but for the purposes of this blog all I can do is send wishes for it to end soon and with some victory against Russia. Here and now I have to focus on myself and my small world, on the things that I can change to help me accept my past mistakes and prevent similar ones in the future. Do not fall into the same traps. Things can be different.

Maybe I will look back on the next five hundred posts and see a stronger, more balanced self. No one knows what the future brings, but I know to hold on tight because it can be a hell of a ride.