There is no try

Wow, it is really cold at work. I’d put up the hood of my top except that I’m already considered a misfit for listening to music while I do my thing, if what my line manager says is true. Granted he’s managed to botch nearly every important conversation we’ve ever had, so I should probably take things with a grain of salt.

A fairly big grain of salt (if I’m manipulating the cliché properly) is the fact that I will be made permanent in September with an eye to getting a pay increase in 2008. But as a certain backwards talking Jedi Master once said, “With great power comes great responsibility,” and so my job specs will increase exponentially.

I guess I should be excited but I’m a wee bit concerned that news of my good nature and affability has not yet reached even the first tier in the chain-of-command. It makes me question why I’m being offered the job, and what I’m even doing here.

Such is the great mystery and wonder that is life I guess.

My cat was not in the meeting place this morning, though I’d set off a bit earlier than usual to make a pre-work appointment. You could set an alarm to my arrival at any point along my route and probably she’d done just that. Sorry little friend – maybe I’ll run into you Monday. (Do cats read weblogs?)

Last night I saw something that renewed my faith in humanity a little – the Trachtenberg Family Slideshow Players.

I probably could have done with a bit less banter and a bit more singing/slideshowing (the whole affair felt over before it had half begun) but it’s nice to know that there is someone out there who knows how to take life by the scruff of the neck and then poke it in the eye repeatedly with a stick.

‘Weird’ and ‘charming’ were the words used to describe the act, which is an accurate assessment I won’t try and best. I find it heartening that some people can actually make a living by just being themselves and lending a sophisticated eye to the potential magic of adolescent playtime.

It’s only too bad that one day Rachel will grow up and all that magic will be consumed by the tedium of sexist tabloids, which is the unfortunate birthright of any budding female beauty in the public eye. Less so in North America, perhaps.

Even though I’m navigating the peaks and troughs of this new life with a certain amount of decorum and determination, I still get it wrong once in a while. But I try not to let it get me down and I’m learning to just pick up my weakling heart from off the ground and stuff it back into my shirt and get on with things.