Stream of consciousness and my ego.

I've been getting regular updates from my former workplace (calls at least once a day, sometimes more) and am taking unabashed pleasure in learning that just three days without me has them completely panicked. Apparently no one can make heads or tails of the guidelines I managed, new ones were released on Monday and no one knows what to do with the adjustments. Hah! And, yes, I'm a total narcissist. And that makes me a bad person. But I'm having trouble helping myself.

Anyway, I'm meeting a former colleague today for lunch. It should be interesting. She actually works somewhere else now, but I'm looking forward to hearing from her.

In other news, Ragsy was much better today. As I've noted before a long time ago, his misbehavior often coincides with greater exposure to TV, especially when it's combined with allergies. My theory is that, especially on weekdays, TV is a bad thing because we have precious little time with him as it is, given that even though I'm at home we're trying to keep his schedule the same so it doesn't change again when I'm working, so his time with us is displaced by time in front of the TV. In other words, he's so mesmerized that by the time we need to leave, he's had limited parental time, so he feels like he didn't get any attention, which is somewhat true since any attention we would have given him would have gone over his head anyway. How are those for run-on sentences?

My point is that we'd inadvertently allowed him to watch more than the typical half-hour limit of TV for a couple days in a row, so I cut him off cold turkey this morning. Once he realized I wasn't going to give in to demands for Fraggle Rock and Sesame Street, he transformed into his usual, sweet self, with only a teeny sprinkling of jerkish-ness, thanks to continued allergies and low-grade mouth pain. By the time his dad was ready to go, we'd cuddled, kissed and played and he'd fueled up on enough of my undivided attention and time that the screaming and whining had completely gone away. Amazing how that works, isn't it? Even more impressive is how dense I am when it's darker longer - it's as though my awareness is directly related to the amount of light available.

So, I'm totally babbling, which is why this post is entitled the way it is. I was tagged for a meme recently and I plan to follow through, but I've never done one before, so I'm still trying to figure out exactly how I want to do it and who else I would tag (unfortunately, I think the person who tagged me has more online friends than I do - I'm so lame).

Temper, Lost.

We're really lucky in that our son makes up for the sleep we lose with sweetness. And he's never actually hit the terrible twos, but makes up for that with short but fierce bursts of fury that last about a week or two and go away. This week is apparently one of those weeks.

As a parent, I've found that for my son, my patience is almost boundless - almost. I can endure hitting, kicking, screaming and throwing with a firm, even voice and haul a struggling, shrieking toddler to timeout with calm indifference. But today I just lost it.

His end-of-season allergies have hit him particularly hard this year, plus I can see just the craggy tip of a molar starting to poke under the gums. He's drooling non-stop, snotty and gooey and clingy and conflicted - "I want Mommy," he sobs in a lost voice. "Pick me up please." As soon as I pick him up, he manages to sound both imperious and pathetic as he cries, "Put me down. Put me down now." We'll repeat a couple of times and I'll get exasperated and refuse to do it again, telling him that it's okay to want to be held, and I'll happily hold him as long as he needs me to, but that I don't like going up and down, up and down.

Anyway, the last couple of days have been worse than usual, even at daycare where he tends to be the easiest kid in his room. Apparently he's been dumping all the toys in the room, refusing to pick them up, then in and out of timeout until finally the toys are away. He was even described in a low voice by his teacher as a "shit disturber" when he gave both of us that look, never a good sign. The same goes at home and in the car, which is where I finally started yelling at him. Even worse, he used my own words against me. After a few moments of stunned silence (I raise my voice maybe once every two or three months, so at least it's effective at getting his attention, even though I always feel stupid after), he says calmly. "Mommy, are you done screaming and yelling? Do you need a timeout?" Good grief.

Confessions.

It's time for my regularly-scheduled confession (which doesn't seem to happen unless I'm working from home or unemployed):

1. If there was any way to physically shove my husband and son out the door this morning without any screaming or hard feelings, I would have done it in a heartbeat.

2. My mother is annoying the hell out of me.

3. I'm easily freaked out when I'm alone in the house.

On the first, my son woke up screaming hysterically at 3 a.m. this morning. I don't begrudge him that. We all have bad dreams and for very young kids it's worse since they can't discern reality from dreams. So I had no problem going in there to comfort him, make sure he wasn't screaming because he wasn't feeling well (he was choking a little - he's been really congested thanks to change-of-the-season allergies) and try to talk the dream out a little to help him understand the difference between a bad dream and waking. What I did have a problem with was the two hours it took to get him to go back to sleep. Then when he woke up for good around 7 a.m. after I'd finally managed to get him to sleep at 5 a.m., it was nearly impossible to get my husband out of bed to shower. I love him dearly, but I don't like playing mommy to two and have to drag him out of bed to get to work in the morning. Unfortunately, I have to do this whether I'm working or not. It's one of those quirks that, if you've been living with someone long enough, will begin to annoy you. If you're me anyway. So by the time he was at the door with Ragsy, I shouted a hasty good bye, slammed the door and locked it.

My mom is on my hit list for the usual reasons - doesn't get that my desire to get a job or re-start my business isn't the same as looking for a hobby, so expects me to drop everything and take a week-long vacation with her here, nattering away while I run in the opposite direction, get mad because I can't work out in peace and otherwise search out ways to get away. The job vs. hobby thing bothers me a lot. Especially because if I do start my own business or choose to stay home and write, I'll be fair game. Calling a writer's writing a hobby, whether they're making a living on it or not, is sort of like telling a runner that they're a weekend jogger. If you don't write, chances are that you won't get how personal it is and how touchy us writers can get.

And yes, I'm a dork because I'm occasionally afraid of my house and I don't have to watch A Haunting for that to happen. I'm not a particularly religious person as most people know, nor am I normally superstitious. But occasionally as I'm at the sink or laying in bed, I'll see a flicker of motion out of the corner of my eye, the shape of a person passing in the hall or something darting around a corner just beyond my direct line of sight. I also could have sworn several times that I heard and saw Ragsy run by. The only problem was that the first time, he had not yet learned to walk and was asleep in his crib; the second and third time I was alone in the house. Then today I was sitting here working on my computer and happened to glance down the hall because a change in the scenery had disturbed my peripheral. While I watched, the patch of light from the open door to our bedroom grew slimmer and slimmer. Nothing else had changed in the house or out - just the door slowly swinging shut. So yes, I'm a total pansy and I realize I'm probably at least partially insane. Like the idiot heroine in the movies, I got up, walked down the hall. nothing happened, so I closed the door the rest of the way and left the hall light on. A total waste of energy for absolutely no reason, but if it makes me feel better, it can stay on all day as far as I'm concerned.

What are your deep, dark secrets?

Relax!

I guess I'm just not a very relaxing person. My husband made me promise that I'd take the whole week to decompress, but here it is the second day of my self-imposed unemployment, and I'm going a little batty, even though I've gotten things done. Instead of achieving any kind of serenity, to give my head time to clear, I'm cleaning, doing laundry, working in the garden, getting oil changes and stripping off disco wallpaper. Okay, haven't started on the wallpaper yet, but still...

My conclusion: try to relax, but also be active and do things that allow me to think. My husband doesn't understand that, in general, I have about five things going on in my head at any given time anyway. Sometimes I just need to get them out. Anytime is a good example. Heck, right now is a good example. Right now I'm wondering how much the credit card bill will be at the end of the month given my 50,000-mile service on my car, the mulch and paint purchases I made today at Lowe's, plus what I should make for dinner, should I work out?, when do I start weeding today? and what do I want to do, plus a great book or story idea.

I think having a child has made my thoughts even more chaotic than they were before, too. When Ragsy is around, my attention is primarily focused on him unless he's off playing by himself, and he's still at an age when he can't exactly run off for an hour and entertain himself. So by the time I get myself all alone, I've got so much going on in my head I feel like it's practically leaking out my ears. I think I'll just have to get a grip on that - if we decide to have anymore and I stay at home more, then I'll have to figure out how to deal.

Oh, well. Now you know my thought process, such as it is. That's probably one reason my posts are such babbling nonsense - you're unfortunately getting all my stream of consciousness and I'm doing a big, fat brain dump.

All done.

I am now unemployed. Ta-dah!

Yestersday was hard. On the one hand, it was fun - like the last day of school. On the other hand, it was sad and absurd. I walked into the office and there was so much food, it looked like a buffet. There were signs and gifts on my desk and everyone who didn't have a meeting was waiting for me to get there. I had a meeting after breakfast #2 (I had eaten before, too), then I walked around in the other wings for an hour or so, saying goodbye to people I worked with before my exit interview.

During the interview, I was very candid. At this company, they have HR do the exit so if you have negative comments, you don't have to make them directly to management and feel as though you can't speak or that you'll be retaliated against, since they have so many people come back to the company after leaving. Who knew? Anyway, won't go into too much detail. So, after the interview, I walked around saying goodbye for another hour, then went to lunch, then more goodbyes when I came back.

Then I had another meeting, then more goodbyes. By now it was about 4 p.m. I turned in my computer, badge, parking permit, VPN and did some more goodbyes (I worked with a lot of different people within the organization), then it was time to go. Most of the people in the department wanted to walk me out to my car (fortunately not for security reasons). I was trying not to cry most of the time. It was really stupid, but it was hard to leave and very hard to be on the receiving end of that much positive emotion. It was more flattering than I can describe, since I was only there for just shy of three years. Everyone packed up my car for me and hugged me and I got in and off I went.

I'm exhausted, but better than last night. Someone who worked there warned me that coming out of Medicare product management is like coming out of a coma - you're confused, the light hurts your eyes and you almost wish you were back in the coma if only because it's what your body is used to. I can see that. I feel kind of naked now without my job. I've never determined my self worth by my job, but without one and without the same desperation to find another one immediately that I would have felt were I younger and less experienced, I feel lost. It's very disorienting. Ah, well. I'm sure I'll get over it. Now is the time for relaxing, resetting and figuring out what the heck it is I want to do. Relax first, think later.

Dunder!

I realized that I haven't been writing much about Ragsy lately in favor of my own problems. So I thought I'd babble on about him for a while, then babble on about myself. So, to that end...

Ragsy has been wonderful. He had a week where he was whining almost constantly. But in retrospect, he could have been responding to my own stress, which was sky high a few weeks ago, but has since dissipated to a low-level hum. Instead, he's glowing. He's delighted with everything that moves - trucks, schoolbuses (completely obsessed with riding in one) and especially trains. He can't wait to get his own underwear, which we've been telling him he can have - and pick out himself - when he uses the big boy potty regularly.

He's clearly looking forward to cooler weather or just expressing his own little eccentricities, since every chance he gets, he dons a coat, hat and gloves. He's also becoming quirkier in other, delightful, ways. Dunder is a great example. It's a word he's created for when he swings a bat. He doesn't say it any other time, but stresses it hugely whenever it's time to say it. "Mommy, I say dunder?" "Yep, you're saying dunder." Then I duck and run for cover.

He's also the only kid I've ever met who wants to hang out with monsters in his closet or under the couch. Apparently there's a particularly fun monster located under the front living room chair. He growls about once a week (really the sound of some lawn devotee outside using a weed whacker) and instead of running away screaming, Ragsy chooses to run toward the monster, lift up the skirt of the chair and visit. When he can't find him, he asks to see him soon. Weird. But cool. I'd rather he want to hang out with the monsters than be afraid of them.

So that's what's going on with Rags.

As for myself, I sent out my farewell e-mail today, a harder thing than I was expecting. I was actually tearing up when I wrote it and I've been getting calls and e-mails all morning. Good stuff. I'm glad I'll be missed. Now I feel all full of myself. I'm sure that'll go away when I find myself unemployed and panicked. Oh, well. Then I'll just have to start my own business again, now won't I?

End of days.

Well, as a paid employee anyway. I've been told I look 10 years younger now that I've turned in my resignation. That tells me that either a) I look like I'm 20 (ideal situation), or b) I looked like I was in my 40s and now look my age. I'm guessing it's b, but I'm good at denial.

Anyway, my last week is going well. I'm feeling very relaxed at work, although a little more panicked when I get home. It's mostly because I've decided to take some time off before I make any final decisions. I am horrible with free time. So I'll be making household repairs and doing yard work instead. On my way to work, I have trouble wiping the stupid smile off my face. It's nice to be an expert at something. Even nicer to know that when you leave you'll be sorely missed. Yet even nicer to know that others have chosen to follow in my footsteps. Yes, I'm vindictive. And yes, I promised not to be so at work. But I made no promises about my blog, now did I? Anyway, I didn't expect for this to happen, didn't know that my decision would have a domino effect. But it seems to be energizing other people, even when it's not directly related.

So I guess I have to figure out what I want to be now. Do I want to be a writer again? A brand manager? A product manager? A marketing director? Or do I want to stay at home? I guess my first option and my last are not incompatible, though I'm guessing that Ragsy will have to go to daycare for some portion of the day (or some days) if I choose that.

I suppose my job choice should be super important. But it's really not. I don't live my career - I work so I can live. So what I really want is a job I can live with that interests me, plus rewards me when I do well and provides me the security to know I can do what I want to and when I want to and enjoy my personal life. To that end, I've got some work to do.

Letting go.

I decided I'm going to try to stop complaining about work and will try to take less glee in its demise. My last snide comments about it: no one is happy about the reorg. At least four people have stopped by to express significant concern about my leave-taking within my department (and more have from without); I've been offered and have refused other jobs in other areas of the company - not because I hate it, but because the jobs just weren't up my alley; and the most obnoxious person there has had many complaints about her poor presentation abilities and unprofessional manner, up through the vice president.

The situation is atrocious, I can't help but take some satisfaction that their stupid decisions are already biting them in the ass and they'll need to reorg again within six weeks and they're conveniently ignoring a whole chunk of compliance with federal requirements. That said, I no longer have to work there. I've handed in my resignation, have determined an exit date, am exchanging information with people I want to keep in touch with and have been receiving interest in my services, both creative and not-so-creative from without the company and from within. So, while I am bitter - very - it's not my place to encourage dissatisfaction even among those I'm closest to and who I know are extremely unhappy.

So I'm going to just shut it. I went to lunch with a group of work friends on Monday and it was just...ugly. No one was mad at me, but the whole conversation resembled jackals cackling and tumbling over each other to bash management. Everyone at the table wanted out - NOW - and all were enjoying the fact that, unless management changes significantly, the products we've built over the past few years will go down in a big bonfire.

While I've enjoyed sitting on the sidelines watching people I don't like set themselves up (yes, I'm not always nice - but you knew that already), I've never been the type to take overt enjoyment when others fail. I'm not that person. I don't want to be that person. And there are new people at work who have no clue of what's going on and I don't want to taint their experience just because mine has been tainted. So I'm going to try to be nice.

I've not been outwardly unprofessional at work, but since I'm leaving, it seems to encourage others to say things they probably shouldn't. I'll listen and offer advice, but won't encourage setups or malicious behavior.

I'm making this sound absolutely awful. And it is bad, though not as bad as my previous full-time employment. It's just a political cluster...ahem. It's unnecessary and stupid and no longer my business. So there. I'm taking the high road this time. Yay me (bleh).