Call it a cliché – that’s what it is – but, where does the time go? It seems like yesterday I was putting away the Christmas excelsior and resolving to accomplish the same goals I list every January.
And here we are in March. Where does the time go?
Last night was Zumba, where I was delighted to not be the fattest participant, nor the least coordinated. What is it about my twisted mind that causes me to constantly compare myself to others? Maybe I should just measure my self-worth against…me? Hmm. I’ll have to think about that, get back to you on it. Regardless, I had a great workout, and I feel 100% better. They’re starting a new evening Zumba on Thursdays – a different instructor, but I’m still going to go. I love, love, love it – and my body loves it too. My lungs are the final holdout, but even they can’t complain too much.
My annual review is today. Three weeks late, but who’s counting? I already know what my salary increase is, so for me the review will cement whether they’re just being conservative with the dough, or whether there is something less than exemplary in my performance that kept the number low. My boss has indicated that there will be no surprises and that the review is “solid”. Does that mean solidly bad? Solidly mediocre? Solidly good? Oh well, it’s all a day late and a dollar short (or, you know, several dollars short) – so at this point, it’s all academic. I will say that the fact that I learned the dollar amount before the reasoning behind it is something I will never do to an employee, if ever I manage again.
I’m starting to think ahead a little. In a few weeks, Matt’s cousin and cousin’s girlfriend, plus his daughter and her daughter are coming to Nashville. They’re checking out the law school at Vanderbilt for the girls. I briefly had a fantasy where I’d go to Law School and study copyright/intellectual property law. But then I got a job and decided that if I ever went back for post-BA education, it would be for a Masters in Linguistics, or something equally useless. I keep hearing these ads on the radio where Belmont U. is offering a Masters in Education – in about a year. That is tempting, but… teachers make even less than Customer Servicey types. Although, in my fantasy, I am a French teacher who spends the summers selling beer at Sounds Games and making killer good tips because I keep my section afloat in lager.
Where were we? Ah, yes…the weekend after the cousins, I think we’ll take a quick jaunt down to Atlanta. Then a few weeks later, it’s Easter - and Mom and Dad are coming. We’re going to have a nice dinner party and invite anyone who is in town. I can’t wait.
Plus, the bunnies are coming! Yes, it’s true. As I found out two years ago, every Easter, Phillips Toy Mart brings in live baby bunnies, puts in a themed display and allows you to come and gawk. The first year I saw it, the theme was Hillbilly Bunnies – they built a front porch, a to-scale pick up truck, a still (that made carrot juice) and other such props. And then they filled it with bunnies. As I was on an unplanned sabbatical (which is to say, I had left my job quite suddenly without anything lined up to replace it), I had plenty of time one afternoon to go and take dozens and dozens of pictures. At the time, I also had two black eyes, so the mothers kept their kids at a distance. For what it’s worth, they were self-inflicted as a result of forgetting I’d just put a bike rack on my car. You try going to interviews looking beat up. It’s interesting at best. Notably – the first interview I took once they had healed was the job I ended up getting offered (and taking).
The next year, I tried to make an event out of it – but we chose to go on the final weekend, and by the time my friends and I arrived, the bunnies had left the building. The display had been a large sombrero which the bunnies hopped in and out of. Sort of a Mexican Hat Dance Theme. We made the best of it, though – we bought some toys, went back to the house and I cooked a dinner that couldn’t be beat.
Happy times.
So no matter what I hear in my review today, I am not going to get upset. I am going to take the wheat, discard the chaff, and sign off on the goods with my patented lawyer-recommended reply: “No Comment”. Thanks, April Stone, Esq. – wherever you are!
Have a fine and kind day.
And here we are in March. Where does the time go?
Last night was Zumba, where I was delighted to not be the fattest participant, nor the least coordinated. What is it about my twisted mind that causes me to constantly compare myself to others? Maybe I should just measure my self-worth against…me? Hmm. I’ll have to think about that, get back to you on it. Regardless, I had a great workout, and I feel 100% better. They’re starting a new evening Zumba on Thursdays – a different instructor, but I’m still going to go. I love, love, love it – and my body loves it too. My lungs are the final holdout, but even they can’t complain too much.
My annual review is today. Three weeks late, but who’s counting? I already know what my salary increase is, so for me the review will cement whether they’re just being conservative with the dough, or whether there is something less than exemplary in my performance that kept the number low. My boss has indicated that there will be no surprises and that the review is “solid”. Does that mean solidly bad? Solidly mediocre? Solidly good? Oh well, it’s all a day late and a dollar short (or, you know, several dollars short) – so at this point, it’s all academic. I will say that the fact that I learned the dollar amount before the reasoning behind it is something I will never do to an employee, if ever I manage again.
I’m starting to think ahead a little. In a few weeks, Matt’s cousin and cousin’s girlfriend, plus his daughter and her daughter are coming to Nashville. They’re checking out the law school at Vanderbilt for the girls. I briefly had a fantasy where I’d go to Law School and study copyright/intellectual property law. But then I got a job and decided that if I ever went back for post-BA education, it would be for a Masters in Linguistics, or something equally useless. I keep hearing these ads on the radio where Belmont U. is offering a Masters in Education – in about a year. That is tempting, but… teachers make even less than Customer Servicey types. Although, in my fantasy, I am a French teacher who spends the summers selling beer at Sounds Games and making killer good tips because I keep my section afloat in lager.
Where were we? Ah, yes…the weekend after the cousins, I think we’ll take a quick jaunt down to Atlanta. Then a few weeks later, it’s Easter - and Mom and Dad are coming. We’re going to have a nice dinner party and invite anyone who is in town. I can’t wait.
Plus, the bunnies are coming! Yes, it’s true. As I found out two years ago, every Easter, Phillips Toy Mart brings in live baby bunnies, puts in a themed display and allows you to come and gawk. The first year I saw it, the theme was Hillbilly Bunnies – they built a front porch, a to-scale pick up truck, a still (that made carrot juice) and other such props. And then they filled it with bunnies. As I was on an unplanned sabbatical (which is to say, I had left my job quite suddenly without anything lined up to replace it), I had plenty of time one afternoon to go and take dozens and dozens of pictures. At the time, I also had two black eyes, so the mothers kept their kids at a distance. For what it’s worth, they were self-inflicted as a result of forgetting I’d just put a bike rack on my car. You try going to interviews looking beat up. It’s interesting at best. Notably – the first interview I took once they had healed was the job I ended up getting offered (and taking).
The next year, I tried to make an event out of it – but we chose to go on the final weekend, and by the time my friends and I arrived, the bunnies had left the building. The display had been a large sombrero which the bunnies hopped in and out of. Sort of a Mexican Hat Dance Theme. We made the best of it, though – we bought some toys, went back to the house and I cooked a dinner that couldn’t be beat.
Happy times.
So no matter what I hear in my review today, I am not going to get upset. I am going to take the wheat, discard the chaff, and sign off on the goods with my patented lawyer-recommended reply: “No Comment”. Thanks, April Stone, Esq. – wherever you are!
Have a fine and kind day.
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