Friday, November 14, 2014

Opening the floodgates

I've watched since July as my great job and awesome organization have slipped out of my fingers. I coudn't really talk about it, or write about it, because it hurt my heart. And I couldn't really deal with the fact that all my work - and I'd done a lot there in the past 16 months - was being criticized at every turn.

By the time I left, the constant harassment and really hostile work environment had taken its toll, way more than I realized, or than I let myself believe. I spent the first couple of weeks so overwhelmingly sad about it that I couldn't see much else. And then I looked around and saw the clutter in my apartment. And all the projects I could do. And all the possibilities.

And the floodgates, they opened with a whoosh. All the words are being written. All the work is getting done. My apartment is clean and on its way to being tidy. I can visit with friends and have calm, fun conversations that don't involve my job misery. I can ride my bike when nobody else is on the road. My mind is clear and my heart is healing.

I got my first rejection today from a job I was really excited to interview for. The first round interview went really well, but I won't be advancing. And you know, it's OK. Yes, I really wanted the job, and yes, I'd really like to be working RIGHT NOW, but time is healing. And also productive. And I'll be ready when the right one comes along.

Monday, November 10, 2014

Deaccessioning

The craigslist gods smiled kindly on me this weekend. As the question circulating in my mind is less about if I will move and more about when, I decided to get an early start on some clearing out, and now some items that have never worked in this apartment are on their way to happy, functional new homes.

No, to answer your logical question, I don't have a job yet. But I am interviewing like crazy and I am hopeful. I'm also lining up some contract work so that I can afford to move when the time comes (and to eat in the interim).

But I no longer panic when I think about leaving. In fact, I'm starting to get excited at the idea of starting over. Or maybe picking up where I left off, since this will be DC 2.0. Now I just need to figure out how I'm going to get myself, my (less than before but still too much) stuff, my car, and two bicycles across the country. Road trip, anyone?

Friday, November 07, 2014

A moment

I strolled down Valencia Street this afternoon, the smell of tortillas wafting out of the taquerias and the faint scent of a recently smoked joint clinging to the breeze. The sun was shining through the little trees and people laughed as they strolled along the sidewalk. I didn't need a sweater over my short sleeves.

Saturday, October 18, 2014

With all the eloquence I haven't been able to muster

I was walking through the Marina last night, strolling from Paxti's (where we had dinner sitting next to Ryan Vogelsong and his family) back to the bus stop. As I waited for the bus I pulled out my phone and scrolled through Twitter, passing the time with the updates of my friends' Friday nights.

This was the first night - Friday or otherwise - that I'd been out with friends in awhile. Most of my inner circle has left the city. The friend I met last night no longer lives here, it was just luck that she was in town. As we said our goodbyes at the bus stop, I tried to bury the pangs of lonliness already creeping up. I miss my friends. I miss easy social time, time together that doesn't involve complicated scheduling and relying on the trips friends take in from out of town.

And then, scrolling through Twitter, I found this. This goodbye letter to San Francisco written by my former classmate. A goodbye letter written by somebody who loves San Francisco the way I do, and who so very eloquently outlined everything that is no longer lovely about living here.

While I've been talking about the same things for the past year or so, I haven't yet been able to put them into intelligible sentences. But my friend did. San Francisco has changed. My friends (and friends-of-friends) are leaving in droves. It's a lonely place to be lately. And maybe it's time for some new adventures of my own.

Tuesday, October 07, 2014

Not exactly what I'd planned, part II

I got an email on Friday morning with the subject line "Farewell."

I was home, packing for my trip. I don't generally read my work email when I'm away from the office, but with all the recent uncertainty I was keeping an eye on a few things.

A colleague was fired, and four others offered new positions as part of a reorganization. The farewell email came from the fired colleague.

I got no official notice of any changes; no call or email from my boss or HR director. Nothing until I got to work Tuesday morning. And then I was called into a meeting with my boss.

For 20 minutes she explained the changes and their reasoning. Then she alleged that I might be one of the people on staff spreading lies and rumors about her.

I don't lie, or spread rumors. And I won't work with anybody who makes those allegations. And as of Oct. 24, I will no longer be working for this organization.

I have loved this job and my colleagues, and I am very sad to leave.

Monday, October 06, 2014

Not exactly what I'd planned

Clearlake is beautiful.
The course was beautiful. My team made really good time through the first 50 miles. We were on track to be off the course before it closed. And I definitely earned my Konocti Challenge jersey. I conquered the toughest climb of the day. In 100+ degree heat. It was great. Until, all of a sudden, I didn't feel so great.
And then I sat for an hour at a SAG stop. Goose bumps. Chills. Nausea. General wooziness. And a resting heard rate that kept skyrocketing. Pretty sure I was in the very early stages of heat stroke, and I thought a break in the shade, and lots of fluids while waiting for teammates would make everything better.
But after an hour off the bike, two cups of iced pickle juice (holy cow amazing!), a bottle of water, and icing down my head and torso, my heart rate was still crazy and I was still nauseous and woozy.

So I dropped out of the ride at the 100K mark.

One hundred miles may have been my plan, but my day didn't quite work out that way. However, I had a terrific ride, a great day with my friends, and I didn't do anything that put my health at risk. Heat stroke would have been bad news. Instead I'm recovering at home and looking forward to a winter of bike commuting while I plan my next challenge.

Thursday, October 02, 2014

Rubber side down

When I threw my hat into the Team in Training ring this spring, I was out to right all the wrongs of my Moab century. To take back a little bit of what was taken from all of us when our teammate crashed.   To get another chance at the distance without the cloud of catastrophe hanging over my story.


It's only coincidence that the team is riding the event that was supposed to be my injured teammate's final ride of last season. But it's weighing on me. Along with some trepidation about climbing 6,000 feet, mostly in the last 40 miles of the ride. In an Indian summer heatwave that promises temps in the 90s. With a still sub-par bike fit. On a body that's been so stressed out the last six weeks that I've seriously considered bailing on the ride all together, or dropping down to the more manageable metric.

But the timing will never be perfect and the stars will never align just right and life is too damn short to wait for someday. So I'm leaving for Clearlake tomorrow morning, and at dawn on Saturday I'll roll over the starting line of the Konocti Challenge. 101 miles later, I will be in the middle of a small northern California downtown celebrating my success (and hopefully a Giants win) with Oktoberfest and refueling with bratwurst and beer.