Workiversary

There's a tradition here that on the anniversary of your first day of work, you bring in as many pounds of M&Ms as the number of years you've worked. I had to approximate (turns out the medium bag is only 14 oz, so I added some truffles), but within minutes of announcing the presence of candy outside my office I'd received a few visits (from the true chocoholics) and several congratulatory emails.

It's a little mind-blowing to look back over the past year and think about how much has changed. I'm probably supposed to say something like "it went by so quickly!" or "wow, it's like I've always been here!" but somehow neither is appropriate. Some parts of the year went by quickly -- the weeks between Thanksgiving and Christmas, for example, when I was scrambling to schedule meetings and reach milestones before everyone cleared out for the holidays -- but others, like the never-ending winter of nothing but rain for 6 months, ...well, they never seemed to end. Even now, as I take a break from a couple of large and less-than-thrilling projects to write this post from work (I'd normally be home by now, but my modem decided last Saturday that it didn't feel like working anymore and the cable guy can't come out until tomorrow so I'm taking advantage of the internet wherever I can get it), I can already tell that the 7 days between me and vacation will involve both mind-numbingly boring meetings and moments of panic when there aren't enough hours in the day to write decent web copy for 5 new pages. (Or 6. The number keeps growing.)

It might just be the fact that I'm sitting in my office as I write this, but the past year for me has been completely dominated by work. It'd be an understatement to say that my relationship with my job has been rocky -- I've gone from totally overwhelmed to madly in love with the Pacific Northwest (although I'll point out that that post had nothing to do with work) and back again in the space of a few weeks -- and at the moment I'm a couple of last-minute-bombshells-from-the-boss away from hitting another low point. But one thing I've learned in the past few months is that this is actually kind of normal. There are various remedies ranging from asking your boss to assign you to something that doesn't make you want to shoot yourself to looking for another position within the company (which at least a couple of my co-workers have chosen). Right now I'm sticking with the first option, and it's likely I'll start looking at other positions/departments next spring or early summer, which is totally normal at this point in my career.

Life outside of work has picked up, too, despite my fears of spending the rest of my existence friendless and lonely in Seattle. I've made some good friends at work (although I'm starting to see the downside of being close friends with workmates -- arguments make the hallways awkward), and between b-school classmates and friends of friends I've got a nice little network of people to hang out with. The rumors of single, attractive men swarming the streets of Seattle (and the halls of my office building) have largely proven false, but I haven't given up all hope just yet. It's a big city, and it's entirely possible that one of these friends of friends will turn out to be a good matchmaker.

So...yeah. I had all these plans to spend this post ruminating about the lessons I've learned in the year since I moved and all of the ways my life could have turned out differently (what if I'd turned this job down to keep trying for the CPG marketing job I so desparately wanted? What if I'd stuck with non-profit management like I planned going into business school? What if I'd gone to law school instead? What if I'd decided to stay in California for college?), but now I'm tired and will be hungry by the time I get home, and even if there's no internet in my apartment (*sob*) there's still a New Yorker to read and a sock that needs knitting and episodes of Firefly to watch (and you wonder why I'm single). So I'll leave you with a couple of pictures from the team birthday lunch I attended yesterday and be on my way.

And "workiversary" = work + anniversary. I'm trying to make it a thing. Help me out?

I really should've gotten this OR the BLT, not both.

and time goes by so slowly

...actually, no. No it doesn't.

Spring has been an odd mix of nonstop craziness and lazy days of knitting and the Food Network. (One day I will run away and join Duff and the gang at Charm City Cakes. Fair warning.) Between a second weekend in Portland, the discovery of my new favorite board game, and the weekend in which I visited most of the West Coast's major cities, I have worked my way through most of "Arrested Development," a backlog of New Yorkers and 9/10 of a pair of socks.

Here's a guided tour of my recent adventures:

cool sky in Portland

unflattering photo of my legs on the first (and, so far, only) warm day (yaaaay beach!)

wedding! this took place in san diego and was the source of my whirlwind west coast tour (layover in SF on the way down, LA on the way back)

baby! also at the wedding. I last saw her at christmas and I didn't think it was possible but she has somehow become even cuter.

spoils from an awesome, awesome concert

Also, let me just pause here and thank United Airlines for NOT screwing up my (admittedly risky) plan to return from San Diego and attend the aforementioned concert mere hours later. I had my doubts, especially because "importance of attending engagement" usually correlates with "probability that something major will go wrong," but no! United delivered me (and my luggage!) safely home in plenty of time.

Now, Alamo, on the other hand...

Milestones

Today is:

1. The end of my sixth month of employment at Software Company that Pays the Bills, Inc.


2. The last day I will officially report to my first manager at SCtPtB, Inc. (which coincided with a team outing in the nearby mountains, pictured above)


3. After an hour-long wait, the day I and my car finally became full-fledged Washingtonians, local license plate and all.

It's been a busy day.

God I hate this weather

As promised... *sigh*

Yes, yes, it's pretty and all (that's the view from my living room window, btw), and this being the beginning of December it's hard not to feel a slight twinge of Christmas-y-ness (considering how long decorations have been in stores, it's amazing I held out this long), but the STUPID SNOW RUINED MY PLANS. While I managed to get my errands (and very important coffee shop-sitting) done before the snow started, I had two tickets to a Christmas concert beginning in...negative 14 minutes, and as is probably apparent from the fact that I am sitting in front of a laptop instead of in a dimly-lit church, I will not be attending said concert. I *thought* I'd be okay since the church is only a couple of miles away, and I wanted to take a cab rather than drive myself since a cabdriver would likely be better able to handle any crazies or unplowed roads, but when I called for a cab a full hour before the concert and got nothing but busy signals from multiple companies (at one point I was alternating cellphone and landline, hitting "redial" on each), it became clear that (1) no one else in Seattle wanted to drive, either and (2) even if I managed to get a taxi to the concert, God knows how long I'd have to wait for a taxi *home*. My co-ticket holder, a friend from work, bowed out earlier this evening since she lives several miles and a treacherously icy bridge further away, so I don't feel *too* guilty, but BOOO. This was supposed to be my first official Christmas-y event, and thanks to the weather -- or rather, the city's collective freak-out about the weather -- I am decidedly grinchy. Bah, I say. Humbug, even. So instead of listening to Christmas music, I will probably spend the evening knitting and YouTube-ing They Might Be Giants videos...which isn't the *worst* thing in the world, but it wasn't my first choice either. But my, there are a lot of odd fan-made TMBG videos, the most impressive of which that I've found so far is this:

No. F-ing. Way.

I mean, I knew this was a possibility when I moved here, but really? Snow?? Tomorrow??? And it's not like New England, where snow showers mean the roads *might* be a little treacherous at first, but the plows will soon come and the drivers will be careful and everyone will generally stay calm; no, apparently snow in Seattle trips an OMG MUST PANIC button in all of the natives' heads. Earlier today I witnessed an email conversation about last year's two snowstorms (I don't know how much snow actually fell, but I would put money on considerably less than a foot...combined), one of which happened to arrive *just* as the evening rush hour began. Public transit drivers applied chains incorrectly, then became stranded miles from their destinations; commuters abandoned their cars on bridges and walked the rest of the way home; people slept in their offices...I suppose I should be happy that this storm will arrive on a weekend, when leaving my apartment is (mostly) optional, but I've heard so many horror stories that I'm expecting the absolute worst. Stay tuned -- there will *definitely* be photos...assuming I can find my camera's cable, since I'm using the laptop that doesn't have the memory card reader. Huh. There *might* be pictures...

the spirit lives on...

Ah, Oregon.

I remember little of my first visit to the Beaver State (no, really) aside from a particularly cheesy state-history museum and multiple trips to The Best Bookstore Ever, so when my biz-school classmate issued an open invitation to crash with him in Portland, I jumped at the chance to make a return visit. And it was great! The drive was uneventful -- about 3 hours in either direction, with (of course) rain causing the occasional slowdown -- and I was only there for about 24 hours, but the city is beautiful. I thought Seattle had cornered the market on outdoorsiness and randomly-occurring forest, but Portland? Kicks Seattle's North Face-clad behind, hands down.

My friend works for Nike, whose campus in the Portland suburbs pretty much makes it impossible to be the least bit unhealthy. Parking is limited to a couple of inconveniently-placed lots, so walking seems to be the only way to get around. Not that I have any sympathy for Nike employees, who get to look at this all day:




Other highlights included the Japanese Garden and the Rose Gardens, which are conveniently located a short walk from each other. The weather didn't cooperate, of course, but I managed to get a few decent shots from under my umbrella:



...so yeah, it was a good weekend! The northwest is finally starting to grow on me -- not that I ever hated it, but between adjusting to this whole no-roommate thing and having to make new friends for the first time in, like, eight years, things were starting to look pretty dire. But as silly as it sounds, having someone to sightsee with made a HUGE difference. If anything, I'm even more jealous of my co-workers who moved here with significant others, but until I line up one of my own (yeah, yeah, I'm working on it, if by "working on it" you mean "wishing really hard") I'll have to make do with the growing circle of friends. Things could be worse :-)

rock bottom

I. Am. EXHAUSTED.


I knew that at some point the pressure of work, the frustration of not being *totally* unpacked and the loneliness of being low on friends would finally get to me, but I didn't realize how much it would suck when it did. Work has turned into a medley of people telling me why everything I half-learned in Accounting (which I hated) will become an integral part of my daily life, while everything I learned in Marketing (which I liked!) isn't actually applicable in the real world. I'm not totally unpacked because I keep running out of weekend hours to drive the 20ish miles to IKEA and buy the furniture which will finally let me empty what's left of my boxes. And my social life? Aside from choir (in which, as I discovered during last night's rehearsal and tonight's debacle of a solo audition, I am officially too exhausted to find any joy whatsoever) and failed plans to meet up with my classmates (who are equally tired but at least have other friends), not much is going on. I'm torn between longing to sit at home and decompress from work and feeling guilty for not getting out and exploring Seattle -- but who would I explore with? Sure, the food's supposed to be excellent, but unless these excellent restaurants have takeout, I'm out of luck. The myth about computer companies being a ladies' market? Lies, all of them, although in my current state of unhappiness I'd be willing to accept the fault as my own.


Now, obviously part of my motivation for writing this post is the hope that someday I'll be able to contrast this against a yet-to-be-written post singing the praises of Seattle, my job, my over-abundance of friends, and anything else I think of that day. (Another motivator is the prospect of a far-away friend reading this and sending me cheer-up presents. Just a thought.) Maybe I'll laugh and shake my head knowingly at how silly I was to let a couple of bad days turn me into a crochety old lady. As it is, I know things aren't really *that* bad: I have a couple of friends, even if I don't see them very often, and the ones I do have make me do things like leave the house on weeknights and go to concerts by my favorite bands. And yes, I have a job and an apartment and too many possessions and generally a lot of things that a good chunk of the world would kill to have. (With a paycheck has come a lot of guilt. I *could* start paying off my car and college loans, but do I even deserve this money when other people who are doing more honorable jobs need it more than I do?) It would be totally fair for loneliness to be a trade-off for not having to worry (much -- loans, remember) about money.


...but is it fair that the guy living across the courtyard of my apartment complex spends what seems like every waking hour smoking on his balcony and hacking up what must have been at least seven lungs by now? It's not even the coughing that's getting to me; it's that he clears his throat at least twice for every cough, and by "clearing his throat" I mean (sorry) "hocking a loogie into what I assume is a spittoon on his balcony." I'm not kidding. I've watched. It's disgusting. It's worse than Ugly Naked Guy, since I can't escape by closing my blinds. The sound follows me all through my apartment, and I swear one of these days I'm going to lean out of my window and tell him exactly how much the rest of the complex hates him for making these noises day and night.


I'll bet the neighbors applaud.