I had a pretty major freak-out this morning. It’s kind of embarrassing. I still believe that once every lunar cycle every woman on the planet is entitled to, and even should, enjoying a good hard emotional jag. However, these indulgences are best taken while alone. Not when one’s significant other is standing there gob-smacked while you bawl over making the coffee too strong. It’s not good for them, and it’s not good for you. I must have been long overdue because normally I can control these things. Sometimes it feels good to let go of all the built up pressure of work, family, friends, money, moving, micro-managing bosses, holidays that are turned down, having no time to yourself, relatives of one’s significant other, other people’s pets, people who aren’t one’s boss giving out demands, insomnia, one’s significant other jumping of job to job with too many long breaks in between… Ahem.

Kim gave me a bottle of wine for helping out with the casino all weekend. It was really sweet of her. But perhaps this bottle will help assuage some of the pressure and help me relax when I finally break free from work tonight. It’s a good start.

Bleaaah.

My ear is all plugged up and it’s really bothering me. I feel almost half-deaf in my right ear. I miss the sound of the phone half the time. Can you say annoying? I hear nasal spray works. I may half to try that. I really don’t want to have to visit a GP.

Marcy, the new HIO, took another sickie today. Which brings her to four sick days and five days of work total. This, this does not bode well for her future. I told her to bring a doctor’s note the next time she decided to show up. Honestly, I don’t know why I expect anything anymore. If she lasts even one more day without quitting or getting sacked I’ll be stunned. It’s a rara avis that can avoid the executive’s wrath around here. Just means I’m stuck manning the help line indefinitely. Yee-freakin-haw.

I’m also stuck working the casino all weekend. This is how I like to spend my time off, running poker chips around a smoke-infested room. Any takers? I didn’t think so.

I’m so exhausted but I can’t skip dance class tonight because I skipped last week due to work stress. I just feel like all my energy has abandoned me for greener pastures. I have no excuse to be lazy. It’s gorgeous outside, plus ten with bright rays of sun. I should be out there, breathing it in.

Finally! The office has slowed down enough again for me to relax and dawdle a little. Woo-hoo! Spare time!

I didn’t even have a chance to complain about the provincial election. Some ripe ingredients to write about and no time in which to do it.

Needless to say really, the election brought about absolutely zero change to the province. The conservative party won by yet another boring landslide which no doubt will spawn yet another boring term for Stelmach. No change, no solutions, no end to the dull state of the Albertan government.

I read in the newspaper that voter turnout was around 40%. Forty percent! It bothers me, this apathy, though I understand to a degree. But if this 60% of the population had shown up - a 60% that is obviously done with the current administration - then maybe, just maybe, those Tory jerks wouldn’t have been quite so celebratory on 3 March. A minority government… Just imagine the possibilities. I even dragged my boyfriend out to the polling station for his first time. He’s been a pretty die-hard non-voter all his life but I managed to convince him that it’s a worthy way to spend the fifteen minutes it takes to go down there.

I guess, really, outside of the office and tax receipt hell, life has been fairly uneventful.

I went for dinner with Wayne last week at the Prairie Ink Café. I finally have a friend in the city! He landed a full-time teaching gig at a junior high school. It’s awkward because Lexie has decided to remain in Lethbridge while he’s here working and living with her parents. It’s too bad both of them couldn’t be here, but I will settle for the W-man for now. It was really good to see him again and hang out like we used to. I’ve never eaten at the bookstore restaurant before either so that was also a good experience. Irish coffee, flatbread pizza, bumbleberry crumble… Mmmm. I’m going to have to go there again. Maybe just for dessert. The atmosphere there is so fantastic as well. Maybe I'm a bit of a nerd, but the combination: food and books, is too inviting to exist.

Moving plans are still in the works. Amazing, amazing. I’ve secured us a sublet in Halifax for the first couple of months. So cheap! It’s right downtown, comes with the works – even cable! – for less than we’re paying Ken. It gives me just a teeny smidgeon of hope that one day we will be able to find a house of our own. One day.

Today’s question on the Livejournal homepage kinda made me think. “Does your job affect your self-worth?”

So the long weekend is over. No more days off till Easter. I wish I didn’t abominate five-day weeks so much; it would make the time go so much faster. The genius in the Alberta government who invented Family Day in the middle of February, however, is my hero. Otherwise it’d be three very long months till spring.

I made crème brulee for my birthday dessert on Monday. It’s times like these I wish I had my camera because they turned out beautiful. They were much too pretty to eat with all that caramelised brown sugar. Too sweet to eat as well, but I did my best. Ted Allen should really write more dessert recipes.

I’m kind of peeved actually about this whole camera situation. I finally got it back from the Olympus service centre yesterday. They gave me some factitious story about updating the firmware, whatever that means. But it is still broken! Not the camera, but the charger. I don’t know what to do about it now. I may try to take it back to the store to see if they have extra chargers, I bought the thing less than six months ago. It’s ridiculous. Maybe I’ll end up sending it off again. Yippee. I normally wouldn’t be so adamant and just buy myself a new one instead but it was expensive. It’s become my latest battle.

With Jolyne now finished with the office for good (I was more than sad last Friday. She was the last person I actually felt a connection with around here. Now I’m all alone! L) I’ve been doing all of the banking and depositing and processing, which, is a bit of extra stress and is taking up a lot of extra time. It’s funny, when a director quits, I barely notice, but when a member of the support staff leaves, it has a huge effect on the running of the entire office. The executive is already working on a replacement for the position, unlike the education director position that has been open since last July. Such things like going to the bank and answering phones may seem like minor details. But administration is a sine qua non that people so often forget about. They just relegate them to those they deem inferior.

However, they did hire a new health information officer, whom starts next week, with luck she will last a few months and I can unload all of that work onto her. The less I have to deal with as far as saving lives goes, the better. I think it’s made me even more bitter than I was before.

Aaah, the day of amative splendour. Or something like that. Can you say ick?

For the last five years it’s been my kind of tradition to go on a date with myself on Valentine’s Day, whether I was dating someone or not. Kind of as a self-communal, get-back-in-touch-with-me experience. Sometimes I’ve gone out for dinner and a movie, something no boyfriend would ever watch with me. Sometimes I’ve stayed home, drank wine, lit candles, and had a bubble bath for as long as I wanted. Once I just went shopping. I take no phone calls from would-be lovers, accept no presents but those I give myself. I look forward to the day every year; it’s become almost a celebration. It’s the only way I found I could get through the holiday really without puking or punching someone.

Sentimental spew does not belong in reality, in my opinion. I just can’t handle the mushy stuff – it’s so artificial. If I’m going to be mushy about anyone, it’s going to be myself.

What a disgusting day it is out there. Now that I’m all nestled in my office, I almost don’t want to leave.

Dance class was fantastic last night. I finally feel like I’m getting it. The first couple weeks were pretty rough, it takes time to get over that whole self-consciousness thing and just shimmy like no one is watching. That’s why beginner classes rock. Everybody sucks at something so nobody cares and we all just have a good time. We did a ton of veil work though so my shoulders feel like they are on fire this morning. I love veils; they look so pretty even when you have no clue what you are doing. I feel so graceful when I’m twirling it around.

 I almost didn’t go because Rob called me at work and sounded so brutally low on the phone. But he told me to go, and for once I listened to him. Imagine that.

It was a tough call, though, because Cathy had an extra ticket to the ballet - and I’ve been dying to see Dangerous Liaisons. It looks like one wicked show. But I avoided all temptation and went to class instead. So dedicated, am I. (Maybe, maybe I can convince Rob to go with me to see it this weekend. If I don’t tell him it’s a ballet and just pump the racy sex angle. *sigh*)

I don’t want to rant but I gotta say, I’m kind of tired of hearing about US politics on the evening news. I know it’s important, I know it affects the world, blah blah blah. But should they not be talking, I don’t know, more about Canadian current events? Should the US presidential election not be a lesser story to, say, Canadian news? It’s not that we get a say, it’s not that we have any ability to vote for any of these candidates. So why should their race be the only thing we hear about? Why is the State of the Union on all of our channels? Why do their debates and primaries take up all of our newcasters’ time? What’s Harper up to these days? Anyone? Anyone?

I heard, rather overheard, that Tim put in his notice this morning. Seriously, I’m not even counting anymore. I don’t blame him. I don’t blame anyone. I’m just not really looking forward to the time that there are only four of us in the office: Kevin, Jolyne, Beth, and me. It’s coming. I’d better sleep while I can. Because I know all this work is coming my way.

Have I mentioned that I adore it when the Executive is away?

This work week is really getting me down. I was supposed to meet with my boss earlier in the week for my review – two months late – and raise but she either conveniently “forgot” or was too busy before she went out of town. I’m not excessively concerned, she did mention it would be retro-active, it’s just a wee bit aggravating. Especially since I’m still acting as Information Officer/Education Manager/Moral Support For Everyone Who Walks By My Desk.

None of these things are in my job description, by the way. I could use a little fiscal encouragement.

And since I’m not getting a lunch break today because the woman who covers the phones is absent, I reckoned I would not do a whole lot for the rest of the day.

So in between saving lives and folding brochures I may as well do some more research for The Big Move. I think I may have already found us a place to live. It’s not glamorous but it will give us somewhere to crash when we make it to Halifax. It’s right downtown, cheap, and allows cats. It’ll gives us some time to find a more long-term location and will be far better than languishing in some motel. Desperately signing a lease because we can’t bear to sleep in the truck one more night.

It’s actually fun to search for apartments in Halifax. Egads. When I think of the misery I went through in Calgary I know we are making the right choice.

My friend is dragging me to her running club next Tuesday. I cannot fathom why I agreed to go and I am already trying to come up with excuses. Sure and I want to be able to run away from the bad guys without feeling like my lungs are bleeding but to run for sheer felicity? I think not. It offends the senses. Maybe it’ll be good for my lazy, office-ensnared ass but maybe I like my lazy, office-ensnared ass the way it is. Or maybe my friend is trying to tell me something…

 There is nothing like coming home to a soft cat curled up on your pillow to relieve the pressure of the day. I felt instantly better. I almost didn't mind the fact that the dog had puked in my shoes. Again.

Ken took him to the veterinarian today, at least. And he's been given some puppy Peptobismal. All I ask is that he sleeps through the night.

I think instead of dwelling I'm going to turn my mind to lighter subjects. Like Louis XIV. And the almond cake I'm going to make while reading about Louis XIV. While listening to Beethoven and talking to the cat.

And "forgetting" to do my laundry.

I haven't really heard from E at all since her last day at work. I don't know why I expected to. I know the drill. It still makes me a little sad. More than a little. But isn't that what life is full of? Greetings and farewells. I'll be moving on myself in a little while and I don't know how good I'll be at staying in contact with the few people I've met here. I suppose then I shouldn't be too sad or disappointed. Just grateful for the memories. But I was really hoping...

Between the cat’s 2 am brawl and Ken’s four am swear-fest, I got zero sleep last night. I was already feeling crummy before I went to bed. (Monday night ouzo binges are not a good idea.) Now I just feel crummier.

The roads are all slushy and I received more than my share of ice-covered dirt on my pants this morning from friendly cars driving on the curb.

I picked my socks out in the dark and they definitely do not match my outfit. Why do I even own green socks?

It’s only twelve-thirty.

I’ve decided I also despise 9X12 envelopes. My envelope sealer either dabs too much or too little water rendering the sealing flap thing utterly useless. So I have to tape down every single envelope. When one is mailing over fifty information packages this is a gigantic nuisance.

Because of the wicked blowing snow all weekend Rob and I hibernated. He called in sick in Saturday (yay!) and we didn’t leave the house for almost two days. Until I made us go for a walk last night – bad idea – to tempt the frostbite gods. But I digress.

It was one of the best weekends I’ve had in a long time. (Unless you count the half hour I took to go to work – love working for free, it gets me off. :-P) Sat around and watched movies and played "Monopoly". I didn’t even get drunk.

One of the movies was called Stardust. I didn’t hear about it when it was in theatres, maybe because I live in a cardboard box, but I wish I had. And I normally feel ambivalent about fantasy. It was just really really good. Funny and smart and different. I’d watch it again. I’d buy it, that’s how good it was.

But, naturally, like every good thing, I had to rip myself out of bed this morning and trudge to work in the elements. It’s pretty bad out there. Formidable winds, icy walkways, brrrr. I almost don’t want to leave the office to go home. I want to know where the hell it all came from. A week ago it was plus nine, I think I eve had bare feet in my heels. There’s just something about having to yank on giant winter boots that puts me in a bad mood.

Poor Rob today as well. He finally got the tooth he broke last Thursday ripped out by the extraction specialist today. He called a few minutes ago and he did not sound well. At least they gave him some dandy drugs to get through the night. Poor sap. Two hundred bucks to endure massive amounts of pain. But at least the tooth is out, I guess. I don’t think he’ll be working tonight either. Which is good because then I can hang out and coddle him instead of making awkward small talk with his brother.

Oh, that reminds me, the dog is back! Yay….?

He seems a little better trained; he hasn’t bitten me yet. He’s definitely calmer, we’ll see how he reacts when I come home today, if I get mauled at the door. It’s all going to come down to Ken and his ability to pay attention to the animal for more than five minutes a day. I know Rob was feeling irritated because technically he’s been doing all of the work with the dog. Walking him, training him, etc. And in typical Ken style, his brother has been getting all the credit. Then the dog comes back home and Ken is telling us how we’re supposed to train him. It bugs me in that I want nothing to do with the dog’s discipline. I didn’t think we should even get a puppy so I certainly don’t think any responsibility for its behaviour should fall on me. Not my dog. Not my problem. Just don’t let it eat any more of my shoes, please. It bugs Rob in that he’s already been doing all of the things Ken is now ordering us to do.

(I realise this makes me sound like a dog-hater. And I’m not, not at all. I love animals, I grew up with a dog. I just did not think now was a good time to get one. We have no fenced yard, we all work full-time, and I am selfish and wanted to have a say in the matter. Not just come home one day to find a massive pee-monster in front of me eating my sandal.)

But anyway, hopefully things will work better as far as the mongrel is concerned.

Better get back to my envelope-stuffing. Who doesn’t adore receipt-time??

It wasn’t the best of mornings. I almost literally felt a dark cloud over my mind until a few minutes ago when I was finally able to have a cup of coffee. Sleeping in is normal on a Friday. Ken doesn’t work so I don’t have his usual morning swear-a-thon to wake me up. I never use an alarm because I can count on the landlord’s frustrations upstairs to make sure I don’t sleep past six am. Except on Fridays. But that wasn’t a big deal, I still had time to shower – just had to forgo the blow-drying and straightening of hair. Oh well. The Alberta wind and snow usually end up being my best styling aids anyway.

But I digress. I ended up chatting too long with Rob, lecturing him more like but that’s another story, and I missed the bus.

Now I HATE being late for work. Despise it. Loathe the entire concept. So that caused a mini freak out. Rob, being the amazing guy that he is, drove me to the train station and I thought maybe I would be lucky. I was delusional.

Got on the train, thirty seconds later, they announced there would be a thirty-minute delay. Fine, whatever. Just my luck. I sit back, open my book, and make myself comfortable. If you’re going to be late, you may as do it right. The guy next to me, however, starts losing his mind. When I sat down I noticed he was a little off, fidgety, kind of smelled like mothballs. But it’s the train; everyone is weird on the train. Even me from time to time.

But as soon as they announced the delay he turned from weird to positively insane. First he yelled at the driver (who can’t hear him, duh) then he began banging on the window. So hard I was sure it would pop out. Then he got up and pressed the help button by the door. The one that you’re only supposed to use if someone is having a heart attack. When the driver answered he started screaming and swearing, telling the driver he was dying, we were all dying, that he was going to kill himself if the driver didn’t let him off.

Yeah. Good times.

Eventually he sat down on the floor and shut up, especially when everyone else on the train started to tell him off. The Russian woman across the aisle from me was hilarious. She stood up and shook her fist at him. “You, calm down. Or I throw you out of train myself.” (She was the mothball culprit, I discovered.)

We finally get downtown and the driver announces the train will be stopping at the third street southeast station before turning back. At least twenty blocks away from my office. So I walk. In minus ten degrees Celsius, ice and snow covering the sidewalks. No better workout in the world than running over un-cleared sidewalks in heels. Unless it’s un-cleared stairs.

Yay for bellydancing tonight! I can't wait to shimmy all of this work crap off my shoulders.
What I'm even more interested in doing though  is finding a quiet room with a little lamp and maybe some hot chocolate. I'd like to relax against a pillow and finish the Jane Austen biography I've been absorbed in.
That, that would make me happy.

It's almost ten and so far no emails from Kelly yet. Maybe I should send her an email to tell her how proud I am.