Ch, Ch, Ch, Change?

A lazy late Sunday afternoon. It's been a quiet Valentine's Day weekend for me, largely because the lovely A. has been out of town. She's scheduled to be back in a couple of hours, so that'll signal the end of a weekend filled with considerable solitude. In fact, it's served as a reminder - both the good and bad - of my bachelor days. I haven't been a total recluse: I met the fabulous R. for a latte yesterday morning at Lit, and later that afternoon I hit The Pilot to catch a set of Richard Underhill. (Whenever I see him, I have the urge to yell, "Get out of my house, roach.") But otherwise I've been laying low, although I did get in a couple of good runs in the park. (My leg seems to have healed from that nasty tumble I took the other morning on the icy sidewalk.)

So the only news to report is that I'm applying for a new job. As many of you know, I like my current gig - it's (for the most part) intellectually stimulating, challenging and fun. One of the drawbacks, of course, is that it's not a permanent, guaranteed position. (And I know I can hear some of you saying, "Well what job is?" Well, my colleagues are safe and secure because they have a form of tenure.) I've been going from contract to contract since Sept. 2005 - the first contract was renewed 8 months later, and I've been on a yearly renewal since. After the first year, I was moved from "casual" to "permanent," which basically meant I received benefits and other assorted goodies (union rules for contract workers who have worked in the same position for 16 months). Still, just around this time ever year for the last three years, I get on tenterhooks and begin to fret about my status come April. Given the current state of the economy, I've been especially worried about the fate of my position. After all, cuts are being made to the budget, and what easier way to trim costs than to jettison the sole person in the department that doesn't have guaranteed employment? I'm the proverbial low-hanging fruit.

Perhaps it's fate that a great job was posted mid week this past week. I've resisted the temptation to apply for other positions I've seen posted in the past couple of years, largely because I was confident (and hopeful?) that my current job was fairly secure. But as I told my boss the other day - I didn't want to apply without her knowledge (for one, I'd like her to be one of my references!) - this new posting is too good to not apply for since it requires my essential skill set. Obviously, I'd love to stay where I am - change is difficult, for one, and I like the environment (I'm a natural fit to the department's "culture") - but I can't keep passing up potential opportunities. It seems especially important since I could well be out of a job in just over two months.

It's funny how this opportunity has allowed me to reflect on my current job, and it's made me realize that a move would be beneficial. And not just because of the uncertainly of my contract. In some ways I've been stale, particularly since the fall when my colleague (and, technically, "supervisor") came back from a half-year sabbatical. While she was away, I was in charge of our little corner of the department - I made decisions, I did all the paperwork, I was the "expert." It was a good feeling, and one I think I handled well. My colleague and I, while we get along well, have some fundamental differences in how we view our work, about what we consider the most important part of the job. Moreover, since she's been back, she seems to be making the extra effort to show she's the boss. Just before the xmas break, for example, just after we had a discussion about our respective workloads and what I felt were the priorities, she sent me an e-mail headed "Your workplan" which spelled out the tasks she wanted me to do over the next few months. It rubbed me the wrong way, particularly since it directly contradicted what I felt were some of my priorities. It served as a stark reminder that, perhaps, I'm at something of a career dead-end with my work and position. As long as I'm under her - and she's extremely protective of her turf - there's no obvious career advancement for me.

Of course there's no guarantee I'll secure this job that was posted. And, in an ideal world, the fear of my leaving would galvanize the department and the overall administration to make me an offer I couldn't refuse. But those things never seem to happen to me - nobody has ever fought over me for a job. And on the plus side, if I don't get the job, my contract might yet be extended and I'll still have employment.

But once one starts looking, it's hard to think about going back to where one currently is. I wonder, in some ways, because I'm applying to leave, I've already left.

The early hour

I love the calm and quiet of the early-morning hours, so I'm never too frustrated when I awake early. (Unless, of course, I have a late night and then have to drag my ass to work.) Usually if I'm up early and the weather is co-operating, I'll put on the running togs and head out for 40 minutes. But because I seemed to have done a number on my right leg when I wiped out yesterday morning on the slippery sidewalk, I decided to jot down a few words before getting out of bed.

(Quick aside: listening to an interview and performance by Laila Biali, a jazz singer and pianist now living in New York City. Funny, I used to see her often playing at the Pilot, where she was the basically the house pianist. Nice to see that she's making a serious go as a professional musician.)

In fact, for a period of time a few years ago, I was trying to get up a little early every morning to write what I called the "morning papers." It was an idea expressed in the book The Artist's Way. Not that I had any pretensions or grand illusions that I was an "artist," but I was hoping it would at least open my mind every morning, get the creative juices flowing before sitting down to the work that paid the rent. And at least that work - I was a freelance writer - had a creative element to it, although toward the end I was doing crap (writing marketing brochures and the like) that felt like the most uncreative work there was. (I can't tell you how many boring business-y type guys I had to chat with on a daily basis. Marketing and sales people, yuck.) The morning papers I would write - very free-flowing, sometimes totally non-sensical stuff - was my one daily lifeline to creativity.

I still get the occasional jones to get back to writing in the morning, although I find I need to use the computer now rather than write longhand. So maybe that's something I'll be sharing on here in the near future. Watch this space.

Sunday snapshot(s)

Oddly, given that Mondays can be such a major drag, Sunday night used to be my favourite evening of the week. Even in high school I used to enjoy it - with my Sony Walkman as my companion, I'd usually go for a long walk on Sundays after dinner. I rarely partake in the Sunday night stroll (particularly in winter), but I do still view the evening as a contemplative one. Basically, I like to use Sundays as a means to contemplate on the week that was, and speculate on the week that will be.

About mid-way through this past week, I realized I was getting into a rut, that I was falling into a dull trap: get up in the morning, eat my breakfast, head to work, work until 5:00, and then head back home to eat dinner, maybe I'd read or watch something on tv, and then I'd go to bed. Only to start that routine all over again the next morning. I'm not sure why I haven't been out too much this year. Well, I can probably guess: I've been consumed with money concerns, and fearful of spending too much lest I don't have a job come April. I'm on contract, and so I'm feeling a mite vulnerable, given the economic uncertainties. I retain some confidence that I'll be safe - and my boss, who essentially created the position for me and has been my champion assured me she'd fight to the bitter end to retain me - but there's always that minor uncertainty. And while I do have a fairly strong and diverse - and, thus, employable - skill set (not to mention I'm somewhat self sufficient: I'll always be able to pick up some freelance writing to tide me over), I dread the thought of having to look for work, particularly in this shitty economy. Pounding the proverbial pavement is a soul destroying exercise, and one I'm sadly too familiar with.

But all that said, I'm doing my best to break out of this rut, finances be damned. To wit, I decided I was going to take myself out on Thursday after work: to treat myself to dinner, a drink or two, and hang out with a book. As luck would have it, my friend M. was free, so instead I went out with him to hoist a beer. And last night, the lovely A. and I hit Gate 403 for some food and music. I'm laying low today (I did get out for a nice run though, and I'm going to throw in a DVD once I finish off this post), but we're doing a winterlicious dinner on Wednesday. And I'm going to take myself out to see Slumdog Millionaire, probably Tuesday (leaving work early to catch a 4:20 show). Yes, these are still somewhat loner-ish activities, but let's face facts: I'm a loner! Not a recluse, but someone that enjoys time to myself, but out in public, and perhaps with one friend.

Wow, a dull post. Thank god I have no readers.

Reading: Finished the second book of Bolano's 2666 - the fourth part (which was very bleak) - and going to read something easily digestible before tackling the last part, so I'm going to pick up Dupont Circle by Paul Kafka-Gibbons. I bought it in a bookstore while in DC's Dupont Circle, so it should be a nice reminder of my trip. Interestingly, he has a web site with some of his unpublished work available for free download.
Listening: Sade's Best of (finally bought a copy of it from iTunes - my original copy was basically unplayable; funny, it always conjures up Japan since I listened to it obsessively, particularly while riding the trains, when I was visiting a few years back), misc. songs that I'm burning into iTunes (I have so much space to use up on my iPod, so I might as well use it with the bulk of my CD collection).
Watching: Triumph of the Will, Breathless, The Leopard (DVDs taken from St. Mike's Library).

some random thoughts

Sunday afternoon, and am debating between going for a run or napping. (I was up early this morning to watch the finals of the Aussie Open between Nadal and Federer, and I'm starting to feel the effects. Great match though, although almost marred by Fed's incomprehensible collapse in the fifth set.) I'm leaning toward a run - and then maybe a nap... although the thought of running without my iPod is troublesome (I left it - I hope! - at the lovely A.'s house yesterday.) But it would be a shame to not take advantage of this lovely weather, especially after we've been brutalized with terrible winter weather.

I'm also a mite tired because been a busy day of cleaning for me. I'm dealing with something of a moth problem, the result (I think) of not tending properly to my wool and cashmere sweaters last summer. They seemed to gorge on my clothing, and then decided to make the move with me to the new apartment. (Why have I never had this problem before, you ask? Largely because I never owned such nice sweaters in the past! The lovely A. is the queen of Value Village, and found some great bargains for me.) So I've been throwing my clothes in garbage bags and dumping them upside, allowing the cold to kill off the moths. (Unfortunately the good weather hasn't helped in this effort.) And I just undertook a major vacuuming and mopping. Cross your fingers on my efforts being successful.

Not much to report otherwise. I took Friday aft. off work to have lunch with R., and then hit the Frank Gehry redesigned Art Gallery of Ontario. It actually exceeded my expectations. It's not only wonderful to look at inside, but Gehry has paid wonderful=, detailed attention to the actual gallery spaces. I only spent a couple of hours wandering, but I bought a membership, which means I'll be spending much more time there over the next year.

Ugh, I think maybe a nap rather than run... I'm fading.