On Work/Not Work
Although this post is entitled "On Work/Not Work", Imma start with a side topic:
On Swamp Coolers.
Can I just say I'm tired of 90+ degree days already? So, so ready for cooler days. Denver summers are getting hotter; scientific proof agrees with me. Whenever I see an article about climate change deniers, I wanna punch them in the throat with my sweaty fist. Anyway, here in our semi-arid climate, we can use evaporative coolers (aka swamp coolers) to relieve the heat. Ours is a big unit on top of the roof, with a big, waffly pad in it, and water runs over it, and air blows thru it and, thus cooled, into our house. Works fairly well, and most importantly, cheaply. But it only works in dry climates, which is why many of you have never seen one.
By late afternoon, though, it's really humid in here, and then the swamp cooler doesn't work as well. So I get hot and sleepy (and, clearly, whiny).
And the reason I'm even home to experience all this is that, in the revolving, binary status of working/not working, I'm currently not working.
Most of you know I actually retired 3 years ago. But that was somewhat inaccurate; I negotiated a new, part-time job that I was supposed to seamlessly segue into. I didn't, though; I was caught in non-work limbo for a year caused by crappy management. And then I worked a bit, and then worked more and more hours until I was going full-tilt half-time for 2 years.
Then Congress triggered the Sequester this spring. So now, even though I want to work, and my team wants me to work, and my 2 years of earlier work resulted in a hard-dollar savings of over $600,000, and my future work would result in the same savings or more, I cannot work. Such is the life of a Federal employee these days: you cannot count on things staying the same. Actually, my team is figuratively spiraling the drain. We lost our head honcho in December, and he remains unreplaced. My boss, his right-hand woman, retired in July. The office is locked and dark, and the hundred folks left behind are trying to save themselves any way they can - mostly by scrambling for the exits. Retirements and resignations are at an all-time high. No one's got my back because they're watching their own.
So I'm floating in this plasma of "not working, but things could change, but then again it's not that easy." The suckiest thing is that I'm now doing the job I was probably born to do. It suits me so completely, and is so necessary. Learning to let it go is a true challenge.
And it doesn't help that I'm hot and humid (and whiny) every day.
On Swamp Coolers.
Can I just say I'm tired of 90+ degree days already? So, so ready for cooler days. Denver summers are getting hotter; scientific proof agrees with me. Whenever I see an article about climate change deniers, I wanna punch them in the throat with my sweaty fist. Anyway, here in our semi-arid climate, we can use evaporative coolers (aka swamp coolers) to relieve the heat. Ours is a big unit on top of the roof, with a big, waffly pad in it, and water runs over it, and air blows thru it and, thus cooled, into our house. Works fairly well, and most importantly, cheaply. But it only works in dry climates, which is why many of you have never seen one.
By late afternoon, though, it's really humid in here, and then the swamp cooler doesn't work as well. So I get hot and sleepy (and, clearly, whiny).
And the reason I'm even home to experience all this is that, in the revolving, binary status of working/not working, I'm currently not working.
Most of you know I actually retired 3 years ago. But that was somewhat inaccurate; I negotiated a new, part-time job that I was supposed to seamlessly segue into. I didn't, though; I was caught in non-work limbo for a year caused by crappy management. And then I worked a bit, and then worked more and more hours until I was going full-tilt half-time for 2 years.
Then Congress triggered the Sequester this spring. So now, even though I want to work, and my team wants me to work, and my 2 years of earlier work resulted in a hard-dollar savings of over $600,000, and my future work would result in the same savings or more, I cannot work. Such is the life of a Federal employee these days: you cannot count on things staying the same. Actually, my team is figuratively spiraling the drain. We lost our head honcho in December, and he remains unreplaced. My boss, his right-hand woman, retired in July. The office is locked and dark, and the hundred folks left behind are trying to save themselves any way they can - mostly by scrambling for the exits. Retirements and resignations are at an all-time high. No one's got my back because they're watching their own.
So I'm floating in this plasma of "not working, but things could change, but then again it's not that easy." The suckiest thing is that I'm now doing the job I was probably born to do. It suits me so completely, and is so necessary. Learning to let it go is a true challenge.
And it doesn't help that I'm hot and humid (and whiny) every day.