Here's the email I sent to kith and kin this morning:
I received word late yesterday afternoon that I got the promotion I applied for here at work. I will still be in accounting, but will be one pay grade higher, with a 3% raise -- not a lot, but I will be learning some new stuff, which is really what I was looking for since what I'm now doing has become fairly rote. What's really neat is that I will have an actual office, not a cubicle in a large room, so it will be quieter, I will be nearer to a window (though won't actually have one, but can see out the window across the hall -- where I am now, there are NO windows at all), and I will have my name on a sign next to the door! I will have to take a picture of it.
I'm not sure when I'm moving across the hall because the new boss is out on medical leave (She should return on Wednesday.), and I will have to train my replacement once someone is hired. I'll keep you posted.
Friday, March 02, 2007
Thursday, March 01, 2007
Out like a lion
I've been out of the habit of writing because I switched to the Google version of this blog, and forgot my username and password, and never got around to recovering them until today. Last month was not a very happy month, anyway, so I suppose I was avoiding writing about it.
I was out from work for a week from Feb. 12th through Feb. 16th with the flu and bronchitis on strict orders from the doctor to stay in bed -- not even sitting up to play on the computer -- because the bronchitis was threatening to turn into pneumonia. I'm better now, but still coughing up crud. At least it's mostly clear now, and not the putrid shade of green it was during the height of my illness. I finished a course of Tamiflu, which I'm not sure did anything at all, and took Mucinex DM for several days until my sense of taste returned and I couldn't get the things down, they taste so bad. The smell isn't lovely, either. I'm still sucking on an Albuterol inhaler 4 - 6 times a day, which is supposed to keep me from wheezing, but I think all it does is make me dizzy, then cause me to hack up a huge loogie. I went through FOUR boxes of Kleenex while I was sick, and went through another one my first week back at work. Gah, I hate being sick.
On the 19th, Weyland's kitten, "Wac" ("wild-assed cat", named by Logan), got hit by a car and killed. Weyland wouldn't eat dinner that night, and had trouble falling asleep. He has been having such trouble anyway, trying to get his schoolwork done. I don't know what his problem is or how to help him, but he's taken a distinct disliking of school, and won't finish his work in class or do his homework. I think he's terribly bored, and doesn't see the point of doing what he calls "baby" work, despite being in the gifted/talented program, such as it is in the EISD.
In other news, now it isn't likely that Beth will be sent to Germany. I'm kinda bummed about the whole thing because 1) She's not getting to go on an adventure to which she was looking forward, 2) I'm not getting to go on an adventure to which I was looking forward, which would have included, perhaps, meeting a couple of my penpals AND spending some time with one of my FAVORITE COUSINS and her husband, and 3) It was probably going to be my best chance at getting to go overseas.
I've only flown in a plane twice. The first time was in a little four seat airplane out in West Texas while visiting two of my other cousins out in Snyder. It was very hot, and the pilot thought it was funny to make wild maneuvers so that we girls squealed. Between the heat and the sudden drops, I got queasy and decided I didn't like flying. My second time in an airplane was flying into Love Field from Lubbock the year my parents died. Aunt Patsy and Uncle Buck had me come spend Christmas with them because I was pretty much adrift and alone that year. I remember feeling very grateful for the invitation since my sisters didn't say a word to me that year about any sort of doings. I suppose they were dealing with the loss of our parents and a sister in their own ways, but at least they both had husbands to help them with their grief. I had no one, and not hearing from them hurt. Hell, it still smarts, as I sit here at lunch, glad that no one has noticed that I have tears welling up in my eyes.
I discovered I like flying in big airplanes better than in small ones, but the take off rather unnerved me. I had to laugh at my own naivete. When I finally unclenched my hands from the armrests and relaxed enough to take in the view, when I looked down, I thought to myself, "since when does Texas have snow covered mountains?" Then the clouds cleared, and I was agog at how high in the air we were.
What is ironic is that I would love nothing better than to be a travel writer, but I have been damn few places beyond my hometown. I've been as far west as Carlsbad Caverns, NM, as far south as Galveston, TX, as far east as Fort Knox, KY, and as far north as Sallisaw, OK. But alas, no one has ever offered me the dream job, and I haven't studied much on how to get it for myself.
In the meanwhile, I do seem set to change positions here at work. I was the only person interviewed for a job which opened when a woman resigned and went back to her previous job. If hired, I will reconcile entries in the general ledger, reconcile bank entries, and serve as backup for the woman who approves all the data entry and corrections. It's not a lot more money, but it is one pay grade higher, I'd have my own office instead of a cubicle, and I'd actually end up with a lot of free time. The supervisor told me the job is feast and famine, and asked "could I amuse myself when there was nothing to do"?!? Sounds like I'll have time to write the Great American Novel (if such a thing even exists any more), all the while getting paid a whopping two tanks of gas and a lunch a week more. I won't find out until probably next week if I got the job since the supervisor is out on elective surgery, but I like my chances.
I was out from work for a week from Feb. 12th through Feb. 16th with the flu and bronchitis on strict orders from the doctor to stay in bed -- not even sitting up to play on the computer -- because the bronchitis was threatening to turn into pneumonia. I'm better now, but still coughing up crud. At least it's mostly clear now, and not the putrid shade of green it was during the height of my illness. I finished a course of Tamiflu, which I'm not sure did anything at all, and took Mucinex DM for several days until my sense of taste returned and I couldn't get the things down, they taste so bad. The smell isn't lovely, either. I'm still sucking on an Albuterol inhaler 4 - 6 times a day, which is supposed to keep me from wheezing, but I think all it does is make me dizzy, then cause me to hack up a huge loogie. I went through FOUR boxes of Kleenex while I was sick, and went through another one my first week back at work. Gah, I hate being sick.
On the 19th, Weyland's kitten, "Wac" ("wild-assed cat", named by Logan), got hit by a car and killed. Weyland wouldn't eat dinner that night, and had trouble falling asleep. He has been having such trouble anyway, trying to get his schoolwork done. I don't know what his problem is or how to help him, but he's taken a distinct disliking of school, and won't finish his work in class or do his homework. I think he's terribly bored, and doesn't see the point of doing what he calls "baby" work, despite being in the gifted/talented program, such as it is in the EISD.
In other news, now it isn't likely that Beth will be sent to Germany. I'm kinda bummed about the whole thing because 1) She's not getting to go on an adventure to which she was looking forward, 2) I'm not getting to go on an adventure to which I was looking forward, which would have included, perhaps, meeting a couple of my penpals AND spending some time with one of my FAVORITE COUSINS and her husband, and 3) It was probably going to be my best chance at getting to go overseas.
I've only flown in a plane twice. The first time was in a little four seat airplane out in West Texas while visiting two of my other cousins out in Snyder. It was very hot, and the pilot thought it was funny to make wild maneuvers so that we girls squealed. Between the heat and the sudden drops, I got queasy and decided I didn't like flying. My second time in an airplane was flying into Love Field from Lubbock the year my parents died. Aunt Patsy and Uncle Buck had me come spend Christmas with them because I was pretty much adrift and alone that year. I remember feeling very grateful for the invitation since my sisters didn't say a word to me that year about any sort of doings. I suppose they were dealing with the loss of our parents and a sister in their own ways, but at least they both had husbands to help them with their grief. I had no one, and not hearing from them hurt. Hell, it still smarts, as I sit here at lunch, glad that no one has noticed that I have tears welling up in my eyes.
I discovered I like flying in big airplanes better than in small ones, but the take off rather unnerved me. I had to laugh at my own naivete. When I finally unclenched my hands from the armrests and relaxed enough to take in the view, when I looked down, I thought to myself, "since when does Texas have snow covered mountains?" Then the clouds cleared, and I was agog at how high in the air we were.
What is ironic is that I would love nothing better than to be a travel writer, but I have been damn few places beyond my hometown. I've been as far west as Carlsbad Caverns, NM, as far south as Galveston, TX, as far east as Fort Knox, KY, and as far north as Sallisaw, OK. But alas, no one has ever offered me the dream job, and I haven't studied much on how to get it for myself.
In the meanwhile, I do seem set to change positions here at work. I was the only person interviewed for a job which opened when a woman resigned and went back to her previous job. If hired, I will reconcile entries in the general ledger, reconcile bank entries, and serve as backup for the woman who approves all the data entry and corrections. It's not a lot more money, but it is one pay grade higher, I'd have my own office instead of a cubicle, and I'd actually end up with a lot of free time. The supervisor told me the job is feast and famine, and asked "could I amuse myself when there was nothing to do"?!? Sounds like I'll have time to write the Great American Novel (if such a thing even exists any more), all the while getting paid a whopping two tanks of gas and a lunch a week more. I won't find out until probably next week if I got the job since the supervisor is out on elective surgery, but I like my chances.
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