Seeing how I probably won’t get the max from the work-from-home accounting company, that’s a huge point in the hotel’s favor. The difference between the max and the hotel’s offer is $1K. That’s it. I’d save $2,700 by not commuting, so it’s really boiling down to freedom, dress code, hours, and do I really want to work from home…
Looking back at my journal, I was kind of “eh” about the hotel job but in it’s defense, I was interviewing for positions I liked better. WAY better. It didn’t help when they hired within and I never heard anything from them. I’m feeling a little burned by that, but at least they realized they made a mistake. The title, though, the fucking title!!!! The office set up is pretty suite, too. (HA! Did you see what I did there? My office would be in a hotel room!)
I’m pretty sure I’m going to take the offer.
I already know a lot of what’s expected of me. I’ve already been given the power to make a major decision should I start. The only quibbling point is whether or not vacation days are based on the calendar year or your anniversary date. I’m going to London for New Year’s - that is non-negotiable - now that I know we have money coming in.
Did you hear that? I’M GOING TO LONDON FOR NEW YEAR’S!! Final-fucking-ly!!! I just wish I could have done it in April. When it mattered. But if wishes were fishes I’d starve to death because I don’t do seafood.
Where was I? Oh yeah…
As much as I like the idea of working from home, I don’t know if I can handle the reality of that being my life. I’m already twitchy being at home all day every day. Granted, I’d have stuff to do, but as an extroverted introvert, I do like being with people from time to time.
The only shitty thing about taking this job is that it’s a small, American, company. Oh well… the more I make, the more I can save, and the more trips to London I can make. *grin*
The story is a sad one, told many times… the story of my life in trying times.
I’m reading a (painfully slowly updated) Cabin Pressure fan fiction full of Martin!whump. Basically, he’s all depressed and suicidal and Douglas comes to the rescue. While the author is talented, and the story is decent, I feel like they don’t get depression. Especially a suicidal depression.
You can’t just bounce back from wanting to kill yourself / jumping off a bridge as quickly as Martin seems to. At least, I can’t. It takes time, love, patience, love, and time. And patience. Did I say that already?
While I don’t want the author to have ever gone through what I have, I do believe in writing what you know. Research can only take you so far.
I’m not saying that I’m writing what I know (hello! gay sex!), but I’m touchy about people who write about mental illness. And yes, I’m a bazillionty hundred thousandy percent that there are gay men reading fan fic written by women who probably get pissed at unrealistic portrayals, too. Actually, I know for a fact that a gay guy took the time and wrote a guide on gay sex for fan fic authors… and I’m not ashamed to say I have it bookmarked. Just in case I want to pull a lemon out of my citrus pocket.
(I always feel like I need to preface shit like that with: “Pot. Kettle. Got it. Movin’ on.”)
But since I feel like the internet’s poster child for mental illness in my corner of the world, I want everyone to know exactly what it feels like to be suicidal. To plan the day you’re going to kill yourself. To face rushing water under a bridge and prepare to jump. I don’t want it glossed over which is what a lot of fiction writers do…
We’re never going to get the understanding, love, time and patience we need until people KNOW, until they get that punch in the gut that clues them into the fact that it’s not all in a depressed person’s head.
That this is real.
That this is painful.
That it fucking sucks.
I hate Martin!whump. I hate whump in all forms, so I’ll never write it, but damn, some days I want to.
What a weird time… but I’ll get to that in a minute. Let’s start at the beginning. Shall we?
It started with him emailing me. In it, he told me that he wrote me this really long email, but never sent it. Then he wanted to know how my job search was going.
Turns out, that after my interview with him at the end of May, he had to make a political hire. (Whether that’s a lie, I don’t know…)
So Friday’s interview was lunch off-site because he didn’t want to be anywhere in the building when we talked. Walls have ears and all that.
During the interview, he told me more than once that I was his first choice. I guess to prove that it was a political hire? Again, I don’t know…
We chatted. We laughed. We bonded.
He pulled out real-life financials, invoices, and reports and asked me to analyze them.
He pop quizzed me several times on accounting techniques. (He kept apologizing for it, but it was kind of funny. I apologized several times for rolling my eyes.)
He asked me how to fix a printer. (I’m fucking serious. It was pretty hilarious.)
He told me exactly what he wanted me to take ownership of.
He told me exactly what he expected of me when I started.
Then, without meaning to, he pulled a Sherlock when he asked me if I was OK with him singing in the office. (For reference, during Sherlock and John’s first meeting, Sherlock says, “I play the violin when I’m thinking. Sometimes I don’t talk for hours on end. would that bother you? Potential flatmates should know the worst about each other.”)
I wasn’t sure if I should laugh hysterically or hug him for that.
He said I should hear back from him soon. He wasn’t sure if the owners needed to be involved or not before he made a decision. (I don’t know if they need to be - they got the resume and gave it to him, so obviously, they liked me on some level.)
I don’t want to be to optimistic, but I’m hoping to hell this means that I’m getting an offer.
Soon.
——
After moping around this morning for too long, the Duke of Stud texted me. Didn’t exactly help, per se, but he distracted me and made me laugh for a little bit. I can’t complain about that.
We’re figuring us out. Day by day.
He’s getting better, but I still feel like he’s still a ticking time bomb.
I guess I’ve been burned by him too many times.
BUT…
He offered to do something like the GORUCK with me after the spring of 2014. I’m looking forward to that. It’ll be nice to do it with friends…
After we got done talking, I realized that while I didn’t do the PT with the team, I walked the entire thing with them (however many miles). WITH MY RUCK ON. IN 90 DEGREE WEATHER.
Unfortunately, I’m still one of those assholes who make fun of Americans’ misunderstanding of English words…
——
I had to apologize this morning for Guinness biting another dog at day care. Not really his fault (there was a skirmish in the pack and it was self-defense), but he broke the skin and the other dog needed stitches. It’s easy to forget he’s a big, tough, STRONG German Shepherd because he’s so ridiculously gentle most of the time… but dogs will be dogs, and he is a dog. Too many people forget that their dogs are dogs. I try not to.
——
I got an email this morning that… I don’t know. I’m posting a heavily edited version here so I don’t lose it.
Ok, I don’t want you to think I am ignoring you… It isn’t anything to do with you, but more to do with a friendship you have rekindled… I’m not asking you to be involved. In fact, I am asking the opposite. I just wanted to inform you.
This person’s timing is freaky. This is now the second time they’ve brought up a topic on the tail of someone else bringing up the same thing. It’s the second time I’ve revised a blog entry draft because of that fact. (Get out of my head, you! *grin*)
The good news is that they were much nicer about it than the other person.
I’m never going to judge them for deciding to stay away from him.
I know that he’s done some major damage to people. I know he still has the potential to do some major damage. I know most of it is unforgivable.
I do. I really do. It’s why we’ve done our little back and forth over the years. It’s why this time, I’m keeping my walls up. It’s why this time, I’m keeping my distance. A bit.
There’s only so much I can do… Moth to a flame, baby. Moth. To. A. Flame.
He needs me, and oddly, despite all the damage he can inflict on me (especially now when I’m a mental mess), I need him, too.
I’ll never be able to explain it. I’ll never be able to cut him out of my life 100%. Dog knows I’ve tried. More than once. Going all the way back to 1994.
Outside of my parents, there are two people whose absences from my life have cut me to the bone. They were the people who meant the most to me and were there when I needed them the most… and then they were gone.
He was one of them.
I’m glad that I don’t have to chose him over the note writer, and the more I chew on the other person’s reaction, I’m glad I’m choosing him over them. ——
In happier news, I finally heard back from the hotel chain. He wants to do a ‘refresher’ interview since we last met in May. (I don’t know what else to call it…) So I guess I’m going back for a third.
We might be complete psychotics and hate each other with a passion, but when it really matters, we pull together…
I hope there’s video of their meeting when it happens.
——
I’ve been talking about the “Douglas Adams Trilogy” for a while.
And, son of a bitch, wouldn’t you know I actually managed it? Despite really wanting to avoid that and maybe keep it to a real trilogy as planned?
I added a fifth part and had to shoehorn it in between Parts 3 and 4. It was the only thing that made sense.
Five books in an Adams Trilogy. Five parts in the Cabin Pressure fan fic from hell.
I suppose it’s a good thing I’m against a Kevin Smith or Star Wars Trilogy*.
*sigh*
I also discovered there were more lemons in my fic than just the traveling one. I didn’t mean to write them - they just sort of happened. I thought I’d done a good job of not going too far down the citrus route… I’m going to have to turn those lemons into limes because, as it turns out, I have a fully stocked citrus pocket.
(I am completely aware that in several years I’ll look back at this entry and will need Google to decipher what all that means. I won’t think less of you if you need to do that now.)
I’m tempted to throw the stupid thing away and start fresh.
——
*There WERE five parts in the Kevin Smith trilogy until he fucked it up and added “Clerks 2” to the VA’verse. There was also a heated discussion this morning between J and I about whether or not the two Star Wars Trilogies were actually separate trilogies, or a Kevin Smith Trilogy. I vote that Star Wars is TWO trilogies - the Anakin as pre-Vader trilogy (aka the shitty one) and the Anakin as Vader trilogy (aka the good one).
I’d also like to point out that a Kevin Smith trilogy will now include SEVEN separate bits when he releases “Clerks 3”.
