This has been a bad year for work.
Actually, it’s been beyond bad. It’s been an unmitigated disaster – I’ve worked approximately 10 days since January 1st.
Mainly I’ve just been trying to fill my time in between wringing my hands and wondering what’s to become of me.
Texts to various best boys about if they’ve got anything have been met with either “I’m out-of-town” or “I’m looking for work, too!”
The irony is that there does seem to be a fair amount of work out there, it’s just not with anyone with whom I have any sort of professional connection. Guess I need to start attending mixers or that annual bowling party that’s a 90 minute drive east or something.
I’m certain I’ve had a year this bad before, I’m just hard pressed to remember it.
On the bright side, I’ve shaved almost 10 seconds off my 50 meter freestyle.
But starting Monday, I have two solid weeks of work.
It’s rigging on a multi-camera sitcom, and I’m beyond pleased to get it.
Two solid weeks.
It’ll be 100 hours into my health insurance (I have to work 400 hours per semester, and I have until October 10th to get the remaining 300), a paycheck and a badly needed injection of optimism.
Today, I went to the grocery store and splurged on some chicken, veggies and various goodies (apples, grapes, those teeny little packages of trail mix) to pack for lunch so I don’t have to eat the overpriced slop at the commissary (in all fairness, calling the commissary food slop is an insult to slop).
I’ll also enjoy working with some wonderful folks that I really like, and I can take public transit and save both the wear-and-tear on the car and the rage-inducing miz-maze that passes for parking on this particular lot.
Except on Mondays – I have swim on Mondays and I’m not going to give up that hard-won 10 seconds.
I have to take the victories where I can get them.