This and that
Today was a totally ordinary Sunday. We went to church, and Baz overdisclosed to the entire congregation. I sat next to Sue, whose partner Donna needed prayers for health. We came home and daddy made lunch. There was quiet time. I made dinner. We watched a movie (the new Charlie and the Chocolate Factory). I did dishes and talked to LT. She's going to think I spend all my time doing dishes, but really, it's that it's a time when I am bored and want to talk to people.
I am trying to figure out my travelling knitting project. Sil's socks are currently at an unendearing stage. That is to say, I screwed up and need to rip back, and ripping back eye-of-partridge at 10 rows to the inch is not an easy task. Ravelry was full of delicious ideas! And I'm not picky. I wanted an easily-memorized or portable pattern, toe-up, for Mountain Colors Bearfoot (Winter Sky, a delicious colorway). And I found one. I believe I have settled on the Leyburn socks. I even have the correct needles, sealed in packages as they came from knitpicks. The only wrinkle in my joy is that we do not currently have a printer, so I must hand-transcribe. And it might behoove me to cast on my first ever short-row toes somewhere I have access to reference materials. So probably I should do that tomorrow, too.
Tomorrow, my three goals are:
Have networking lunch
Go talk to new technopimps. As I explained to LT, I have moved up in the world from street-pimps to an escort service, because now I am taking my client list with me. ;)
Do something fun with the kids. Something fun and free.
Oh, and pack. The four goals for tomorrow are lunch, job negotiation, kids, and packing.
And going to bed early.
This week is going to be so weird. You have to understand that "tech writer" is not one of those jobs where they train you to expect a lot of travel. The only business travel I have ever done is when I was telecommuting to Boston, and even then, my sister picked me up at the airport. I have rented moving trucks before, but this is absolutely the first time I've gotten off a plane and gone to the car rental counter and rented a car and driven to an office in a city I don't know. I am simultaneously excited and a little concerned that my grown-up disguise will fail. You'd think, at two-weeks-shy-of-31, I would be less worried about said grown-up disguise. So that's another thing on my list for tomorrow. Write down directions from airport to office, and from office to temporary abode. And pack my computer. Oh, and then there's the problem of what to wear. It's a startup. I think jeans and security-geek shirts would be the order of the day (I have a couple good ones). only I have zero wardrobe between business casual and pajama pants. Seriously, I own zero pairs of jeans. I've been meaning to order some, now that Lane Bryant has decided I am insufficiently trampy to give them my money, but didn't get around to it, and I own no jeans. A minor problem. I will go in business casual. Since they are paying me like a techwriting demigoddess, I can look weirdly overdressed. I'm okay with that. And I have all these thoughts and I come up with solutions to them, but I recognize them for what tehy are. Legitimate disguises for my very real anxiety that somehow I am unfit for this.
I knew, when I took this job, that I would spend the first couple weeks in sheer terror. And that I would write a bunch of half-assed outlines (check), and assemble a bunch of questions (in progress), and dither unduly about formatting (I'm saving that for the next big panic). Because this is a job that is right at the limits of my capability. I need that, and I am pretty sure I can do it. But the bit where I am trying to unhinge my jaw enough to get it around rhinoceros haunch is terrifying, even if I know it's coming. What I didn't think about, didn't expect, was how much my skills would atrophy in the time I've had jobs that were only nominally about writing. I have lost my chops, and I have that winded feeling that stairs shouldn't be this hard, and who made them so steep? So here I am, with the thing I love most, something new to document, and I am having to walk carefully through and remember how to do it, because I used to know, and it's just a matter of recalling the steps.
I am trying to figure out my travelling knitting project. Sil's socks are currently at an unendearing stage. That is to say, I screwed up and need to rip back, and ripping back eye-of-partridge at 10 rows to the inch is not an easy task. Ravelry was full of delicious ideas! And I'm not picky. I wanted an easily-memorized or portable pattern, toe-up, for Mountain Colors Bearfoot (Winter Sky, a delicious colorway). And I found one. I believe I have settled on the Leyburn socks. I even have the correct needles, sealed in packages as they came from knitpicks. The only wrinkle in my joy is that we do not currently have a printer, so I must hand-transcribe. And it might behoove me to cast on my first ever short-row toes somewhere I have access to reference materials. So probably I should do that tomorrow, too.
Tomorrow, my three goals are:
Have networking lunch
Go talk to new technopimps. As I explained to LT, I have moved up in the world from street-pimps to an escort service, because now I am taking my client list with me. ;)
Do something fun with the kids. Something fun and free.
Oh, and pack. The four goals for tomorrow are lunch, job negotiation, kids, and packing.
And going to bed early.
This week is going to be so weird. You have to understand that "tech writer" is not one of those jobs where they train you to expect a lot of travel. The only business travel I have ever done is when I was telecommuting to Boston, and even then, my sister picked me up at the airport. I have rented moving trucks before, but this is absolutely the first time I've gotten off a plane and gone to the car rental counter and rented a car and driven to an office in a city I don't know. I am simultaneously excited and a little concerned that my grown-up disguise will fail. You'd think, at two-weeks-shy-of-31, I would be less worried about said grown-up disguise. So that's another thing on my list for tomorrow. Write down directions from airport to office, and from office to temporary abode. And pack my computer. Oh, and then there's the problem of what to wear. It's a startup. I think jeans and security-geek shirts would be the order of the day (I have a couple good ones). only I have zero wardrobe between business casual and pajama pants. Seriously, I own zero pairs of jeans. I've been meaning to order some, now that Lane Bryant has decided I am insufficiently trampy to give them my money, but didn't get around to it, and I own no jeans. A minor problem. I will go in business casual. Since they are paying me like a techwriting demigoddess, I can look weirdly overdressed. I'm okay with that. And I have all these thoughts and I come up with solutions to them, but I recognize them for what tehy are. Legitimate disguises for my very real anxiety that somehow I am unfit for this.
I knew, when I took this job, that I would spend the first couple weeks in sheer terror. And that I would write a bunch of half-assed outlines (check), and assemble a bunch of questions (in progress), and dither unduly about formatting (I'm saving that for the next big panic). Because this is a job that is right at the limits of my capability. I need that, and I am pretty sure I can do it. But the bit where I am trying to unhinge my jaw enough to get it around rhinoceros haunch is terrifying, even if I know it's coming. What I didn't think about, didn't expect, was how much my skills would atrophy in the time I've had jobs that were only nominally about writing. I have lost my chops, and I have that winded feeling that stairs shouldn't be this hard, and who made them so steep? So here I am, with the thing I love most, something new to document, and I am having to walk carefully through and remember how to do it, because I used to know, and it's just a matter of recalling the steps.