A cold wind and rain came down out of the highlands today. When the clouds lifted in the afternoon, there was snow on Grizzly Peak, but only briefly. It was gone by evening. It's the end of March, there should still be snow in the high country. Instead, it has been warm enough for me to lay out in the sun on my back deck for the last couple of weeks, and that's in the Colestin at 3,200 feet. It was good to feel that cold wind tonight, if only for a bit, good to feel a few drops of freezing rain on my face, good to see the tourists turning up their collars and hustling down the sidewalks.
My blahs are back, probably due to the deterioration of my diet, certainly age related. All I want to do is sleep. I'm glad when the activities I love are cancelled because it means I can go to bed early. Work doesn't even make me mad any more, it just makes me tired. I don't have the energy to fight. I have nothing to complain about; I'm the luckiest woman on the planet, ridiculously, insanely blessed, and yet, some days, I feel like shit.
Just gotta wait it out; that and eat more damn vegetables. This too shall pass.
Today I was recognized for 20 seasons with "the employer that shall not be named." My co-workers gave me a little surprise party in the office to celebrate. It was a generous gesture and I was genuinely grateful, but, in truth, it felt awkward. It just doesn't seem like something to celebrate. My career is caught in a cul de sac and I'm on autopilot. Like millions of people, I show up every day, get my work done and go home. I do what they pay me to do. It feels neither admirable nor extraordinary, so why should I get an award?
Afterwards, the whole company gathered for Company Call, where I received my plaque alongside about 20 other folks receiving various awards. There were announcements and presentations and then we all listened to management make their case for why my friends in the scene shop should not vote to unionize. There have been several unsuccessful attempts to unionize over the years and another vote is coming up soon. It just might pass this time. It has been a wild and woolly year at the art farm. There have been a rash of mistakes and a lot of finger pointing. The bosses say they can take care of the workers better than a union can, but confidence in their leadership has eroded. The size and scope of the place has metastasized; so many new people, so many new initiatives. Most of them are very worthwhile, but with so much going on, it feels like the place is spinning out of control. At what point does such unchecked growth become unsustainable? When is bigger no longer better? The company may have reached that point this year. The bosses sowed thunder when they insisted on having exactly what they want exactly how they want it; now they must reap the whirlwind.
Maybe I'm just feeling my age.
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