I am not a spontaneous person by nature. I like routine. I’m all about expectations. I’m a planner. Between Husband and myself, we make a lot of compromises. I try to be OK with surprises and changes in plans and he tries to set expectations no matter how spontaneous the idea.
As you can imagine, a boring, routine person has to really gear up for a big change, like a new job. Given that, it should come as no surprise that it has taken me almost 10 months to settle in to my current job.
Just as I was settling in to my role, I was lucky enough to find myself being recruited for other jobs. In this job environment, I know better than to pass up opportunities. Besides, it doesn’t hurt to find out more. Well, one conversation led to another and soon I had two competing offers.
So here is the scene, two companies eager to hire me, me just now comfortable in my current role and then my manager puts in her two week notice (Read major opportunities at current job where I was JUST NOW COMFORTABLE)
So here I am in the middle of a career minefield. I know no one else saw it this way. Everyone told me, it is a good place to be. Which is was, BUT it felt like each decision along the way could trigger a bomb that would blow up all three opportunities at once.
My normal, fear-of-change self wanted to stay put where I know what to expect. But standing still felt like a trap as well. I’ll never have all these opportunities at once again. If I don’t take a step forward, I might as well go backward.
So for the past two weeks I’ve been making calculating moves to cross the minefield and end up in a better place.
I’m speaking to you from that better place. The decisions have been made and there is calm around me for the moment. People have been notified and I have two weeks before I panic about having to learn a new company, new processes and new people.
Am I excited? Not yet, more like happy that I made it through the land mines and can relax. Will I get excited? Yes. But for right now I’m trying to reassure my routine, expectation-setting self that it will be an easy transition. Luckily, Husband and I have a trip to Florida planned for the in-between job stage.
Thursday, September 30, 2010
Friday, September 17, 2010
The Return to the Lost Lodge, part two
There is so much going on right now that I can’t talk about yet, but hopefully by next week I can clue you all in to the craziness of my life.
So back to recapping our Labor Day trip.
If you remember...the boat was broken and we resigned ourselves to swimming off the private dock and hanging out. So, we loaded up a cooler of beer, the best accompanment the sun, and headed down to the lake. Husband was busy hosting his fantasy football draft, which left me, Padre and Momma T to conqure the lake one floatie at a time.
We were a few beers into the afternoon when we were noticed we had some company across the channel. There were two goats wandering around the opposite bank. We hadseen interacted with these goats the day before. Momma T., who fancies herself an animal whisperer, was quick to engage the couple.
True to form, Momma T began swimming towards our new friends. Padre and I followed suite in a more leisurly manner, bobbing across the lake on our yellow floaties. It wasn’t long before she was on shore and calling to the goats. The male goat (the one with big horns, you know, the kind made for ramming into things) headed her way. Momma T might have forgotten that these goats were wild, despite our warnings.
Once the goat was close to her, he reared up on his hind legs. Now, Momma T is not a stranger to an animal rearing up on her, but I think she forgot that she was a stranger to this animal. She stood her ground for a minute, a show that he hadn’t frightened her away. Padre and I were yelling emphatically to “LEAVE HIM ALONE”. In two seconds her body language changed from “I’ll show him who’s dominant” to “maybe I’ll sit down so he doesn’t think I’m a threat”.
About the moment that she turned her back to the angry goat, Padre yelled “DON”T TURN YOUR BACK ON HIM”. She turned back towards the goat just as he headed toward her with his head down. In a moment of self preservation, she put the floatie between her and the goat and dove (was bucked) into the water.
The thoughts raced - "Is she ok? Did that seriously just happen? Why didn’t I have a camera? Did that seriously just happen? (Floating in the middle of the channel) Should I swim towards her or back to the dock in case she’s hurt?"
Once she surfaced, grinning from ear to ear we began laughing hysterically. We were back on the dock reliving the play-by-play when Monkers and Mr. B arrived. We were falling all over ourselves trying to tell them about what JUST HAPPENED. Monkers later told me she thought we were just REALLY DRUNK.
There is still much debate about if the goat actually succeed in the ramming her. She insists the goat didn’t touch her however, Padre and I have never seen her jump/dive that far unassisted. I swear I remember seeing her body jolt from the contact of GOAT HORNS against her backside.
We spend the rest of the day catching up with Monkers and Mr. B. Occasionally reliving and laughing about the earlier goat incident.
The rest of the trip is a haze of good times (probably because of the amount of alcohold consumed). Momma T and Padre left early, so Husband, Monkers, Mister B and I took our time the next day packing,soaking up the last of the sun and driving back.
There could be no better end to the summer!
So back to recapping our Labor Day trip.
If you remember...the boat was broken and we resigned ourselves to swimming off the private dock and hanging out. So, we loaded up a cooler of beer, the best accompanment the sun, and headed down to the lake. Husband was busy hosting his fantasy football draft, which left me, Padre and Momma T to conqure the lake one floatie at a time.
We were a few beers into the afternoon when we were noticed we had some company across the channel. There were two goats wandering around the opposite bank. We had
True to form, Momma T began swimming towards our new friends. Padre and I followed suite in a more leisurly manner, bobbing across the lake on our yellow floaties. It wasn’t long before she was on shore and calling to the goats. The male goat (the one with big horns, you know, the kind made for ramming into things) headed her way. Momma T might have forgotten that these goats were wild, despite our warnings.
Once the goat was close to her, he reared up on his hind legs. Now, Momma T is not a stranger to an animal rearing up on her, but I think she forgot that she was a stranger to this animal. She stood her ground for a minute, a show that he hadn’t frightened her away. Padre and I were yelling emphatically to “LEAVE HIM ALONE”. In two seconds her body language changed from “I’ll show him who’s dominant” to “maybe I’ll sit down so he doesn’t think I’m a threat”.
About the moment that she turned her back to the angry goat, Padre yelled “DON”T TURN YOUR BACK ON HIM”. She turned back towards the goat just as he headed toward her with his head down. In a moment of self preservation, she put the floatie between her and the goat and dove (was bucked) into the water.
The thoughts raced - "Is she ok? Did that seriously just happen? Why didn’t I have a camera? Did that seriously just happen? (Floating in the middle of the channel) Should I swim towards her or back to the dock in case she’s hurt?"
Once she surfaced, grinning from ear to ear we began laughing hysterically. We were back on the dock reliving the play-by-play when Monkers and Mr. B arrived. We were falling all over ourselves trying to tell them about what JUST HAPPENED. Monkers later told me she thought we were just REALLY DRUNK.
There is still much debate about if the goat actually succeed in the ramming her. She insists the goat didn’t touch her however, Padre and I have never seen her jump/dive that far unassisted. I swear I remember seeing her body jolt from the contact of GOAT HORNS against her backside.
We spend the rest of the day catching up with Monkers and Mr. B. Occasionally reliving and laughing about the earlier goat incident.
The rest of the trip is a haze of good times (probably because of the amount of alcohold consumed). Momma T and Padre left early, so Husband, Monkers, Mister B and I took our time the next day packing,soaking up the last of the sun and driving back.
There could be no better end to the summer!
Friday, September 10, 2010
Return to Lost Lodge
So last weekend we took another weekend trip to Cumberland. With budgets tight, we decided to go back to The Lost Lodge. I love the charm and VALUE of this place. Be sure to refresh your memory here.
Our trips down to the lake are too few and far between, but we all enjoy them. Poor Biscuit couldn’t come this time, although Sammy and the cat were happy she was home to play with them.
Me, the husband, padre and momma T took Friday off work and headed down for what proved to be a beautiful weekend. The sun was hot, the wind was cool, the lake was warm and the humidity was non-existent. The summer transition to fall might be my favorite time on the lake. Or maybe it’s just that I am trying to saturate myself in all the summer goodness before I have to say goodbye.
Padre was always apprehensive about this trip considering Mellow Yellow has been raising red flags about her health. The last trip down, she was making a clunking noise. While she didn’t sound the same, she was running well. The second day we were there, Padre was playing with the trim and got the old girl up to 46 MPH. We were proud. We had made our way far from the dock.
We stopped a couple times to swim and Husband even did a little cliff jumping.
Looking at the clock, we had to head back to the dock to pick up Momma T. (She was in Lexington for training for her upcoming volunteer work at the World Equestrian Games). We were flying back to the dock when suddenly the clunking noise turned into a sudden and extreme vibration that threatened to shake off the back end of the boat. Husband and I sat tensely as Padre played with the throttle to investigate. The vibration was so strong, we were afraid to drive the boat over idle, fearing the back end would shake off and we would sink. At 2mph, we were more than a couple hours from the dock. So with what pride we had left, we ever so slowly made our way back. Better to putter than be towed.
Once we got the boat back on the trailer and back in storage, we scoured the marina for a rental. On Labor Day weekend with pristine weather conditions, fat chance.
We all agreed that we were just as happy to not spend money and soak up the sun from the comfort of the Lost Lodge private Dock.
I know that Padre was disappointed, but I was pretty content with our new plan. Little did any of us know the adventures we would have on that dock. Check back next week for the arrival of monkers and the big man, wild goats, drinking escapades, a serious euchre smack down, swimming, fishing, and the last sunburn of the season.
Our trips down to the lake are too few and far between, but we all enjoy them. Poor Biscuit couldn’t come this time, although Sammy and the cat were happy she was home to play with them.
Me, the husband, padre and momma T took Friday off work and headed down for what proved to be a beautiful weekend. The sun was hot, the wind was cool, the lake was warm and the humidity was non-existent. The summer transition to fall might be my favorite time on the lake. Or maybe it’s just that I am trying to saturate myself in all the summer goodness before I have to say goodbye.
Padre was always apprehensive about this trip considering Mellow Yellow has been raising red flags about her health. The last trip down, she was making a clunking noise. While she didn’t sound the same, she was running well. The second day we were there, Padre was playing with the trim and got the old girl up to 46 MPH. We were proud. We had made our way far from the dock.
We stopped a couple times to swim and Husband even did a little cliff jumping.
Looking at the clock, we had to head back to the dock to pick up Momma T. (She was in Lexington for training for her upcoming volunteer work at the World Equestrian Games). We were flying back to the dock when suddenly the clunking noise turned into a sudden and extreme vibration that threatened to shake off the back end of the boat. Husband and I sat tensely as Padre played with the throttle to investigate. The vibration was so strong, we were afraid to drive the boat over idle, fearing the back end would shake off and we would sink. At 2mph, we were more than a couple hours from the dock. So with what pride we had left, we ever so slowly made our way back. Better to putter than be towed.
Once we got the boat back on the trailer and back in storage, we scoured the marina for a rental. On Labor Day weekend with pristine weather conditions, fat chance.
We all agreed that we were just as happy to not spend money and soak up the sun from the comfort of the Lost Lodge private Dock.
I know that Padre was disappointed, but I was pretty content with our new plan. Little did any of us know the adventures we would have on that dock. Check back next week for the arrival of monkers and the big man, wild goats, drinking escapades, a serious euchre smack down, swimming, fishing, and the last sunburn of the season.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)