Category: life

Oh Sweet Hoopty

An open letter to my vehicular friend.

Today as I was driving you to work, I noticed you making an odd and rather unpleasant sound.

I’d like to attribute it to the early morning, because I know that you, like your owner, are not a fan of the cold morning hours.

But it would appear that this isn’t just a hazard of winter chill, because later in the day, when it was warm, you still made that sound.

Which means you have to go see our friend Tony, the trusty mechanic who has carefully protected and maintained you for all of your life.

But it’s more than that. Today, my checkbook lays open before you, at your mercy.

Please, please don’t crap out on me. I need you.

Sure, you’re almost eight years old, but remember the good times?

Remember how I purchased you in late 2001, the last wisp of the model year…the October right after the tragic September 11th when no one was buying cars?

You were the last (and best) of two remaining old model year cars. The end of an era too, as you are the last of your kind, they don’t make you anymore.

Remember how you were the only car the dealer had sold that month? We giggled together at the rockin’ deal I was able to negotiate so I could take you home?

Though almost eight years old now, you’ve been without a car payment for four years. And this is the heart of the issue, dear, sweet vehicle.

You see, times are a little rough. The economy is pretty bad, you know? I mean, hey, gas prices have improved, so that’s something. But Mr. Jones has stolen all my money. Ok, not all, but a good portion, and your humble owner is starting to freak out.

To be fair, so far, I’ve managed to keep a good job with a regular paycheck. And yes, I *could* swing $300 to $500 a month to make payments on a new, shiny car.

But I don’t want to.

That $300 to $500 a month could be better spent on things like food, you know, and uh, necessities of life.

Or, and here’s a fun thought, that $300 to $500 a month could be put in savings in an attempt to rebuild my sagging nest egg.

But these plans, this hope for the future depends on you.

Please, please keep it together. I’m going to take you to be fixed, yes. And I’m even willing to spend a little cash to get that done. But that means you have to help me back. You have to stay solid for a while after the repair.

If you start nickel and diming, or really five-hundred and thousanding me, I’m going to have to reconsider whether you are still a valuable part of the family.

I need you to continue to be the reliable, dependable vehicle you are.

Give me a couple more years, ok? Let me see if I can get my financial feet back under me and we’ll talk about retiring you to a nice life where you can wander the pastures and eat all the motor oil you’d like. But for now, I need you to stay solid and light on the pocketbook.

Plus, The Good Man says he doesn’t believe an American made car can go 100,000 miles. I think we can prove him wrong (only 15k to go!).

I believe in you, fabulous Jeep, now you have to believe in me too!

Not my actual hoopty, but a sibling of….

The Trickster

Oh yes, I am.

The Trickster.

See….soooomehow, in the course of a series of interviews, a fairly well crafted resume and a bunch of conversations, I’ve managed to convince the procurement organization of a well respected Fortune 500 corporation to award me the title of Senior Manager complete with an office (with a window that has a really nice view) and a fairly robust staff of minons to do my bidding.

Me. The goofball from New Mexico. The kid who, once upon a time, had to be taken to the doctor because I got a piñon nut stuck up my nose.

That one.

For some reason they actually think I might be…..good.

Damn. I convinced them. Now what?

I’m pretty sure I’m a fraud.

Day 3, the rubber is, you know, sort of starting to meet the road.

Can I shove another piñon nut up my nose and sidestep this responsibility?

No, probably not. Guess I better just keep showing up and trying to make good on who they seem to think I am.

Abject fear. Whatta rush.

First Day at the new school

I remember, lo these many years ago, one year when it was time to return to school, my mom packed up all the supplies she’d bought from the teacher’s list of requirements into a brown paper grocery bag. Then she sat me, dressed in my new school clothes, next to the bag on the carved wooden bench near the front door and took a picture.

It was a “first day of school” photo.

I searched high and low in all my photo albums for this photo to scan and post today, but sadly I could not find it (it’s there, but just didn’t dig far enough). I did, however, find my first communion photo, taken seated on that same bench in a fluffy white dress and little veil, but figured the effect was just not the same.

The reason for me recalling both that day and that photograph, is that today, I started my new job at a brand new company. And I felt as nervous and jittery as I did in second grade wondering if I would like the place, if the other kids would like me back, and if I was doomed to eating lunch all by myself for the duration.

Day One of the new place was not so bad. My mind is a bit blown with all the information handed out during the day. I’m working for a company that is smaller, less high profile, but more important to the “greater good”. I work for a company filled with PhD scientist types. Brilliant folks, all sharp as a whip and it takes work for me to keep up.

It’s a lot like my old employer in a lot of ways (most of them good). It’s also very different in a lot of ways.

But none of that matters. What matters is I spent nine and a half years at my last job. I’d built up friends, confidants, and credibility. I knew where the bodies and the land mines were buried. People knew me, knew I would do a good job, and trusted me.

Today, people don’t know me from Adam and I have zero credibility. All that must be built, and it’s a long process.

I have to learn the names of new and strange (and let’s face it, rather geeky) executives. I have to learn a bit of biology and a skosh of chemistry to keep up with the conversations. I have to be able to speak clinically about some big hairy scary human diseases, which is going to be a tough change for my sensitive soul.

But mainly, I have to survive. I need this job. Mr. Jones keeps stealing my money and while I was feeling ok about things a few weeks back, I’ve finally succumbed to the fear and horror this economy has sent our way. I like feeling comfortable about my financial situation and loathe worrying over something as ridiculous as money.

And yes, I’m quite grateful to have a good job in these troubled times.

I did make a friend today. She was very nice and agreed to be my “new hire” pal. I have a new hire pal from the old place. He and I are still friends and celebrated every work anniversary by saying to each other, “god, you still work here?” I expect the same from my new friend.

Tomorrow I’m plunged into the icy waters of my new team. I met a couple ladies today who will by my direct reports and they eyed me suspiciously, but were friendly enough.

Hopefully no one will steal my lunch money and someone will let me sit at the table with them at noontime.

And hopefully someone will tell me how to find my way to the bathroom. That’s essential.

Tuesday is going to be a really long day.

Great Googelly Moogelly!

I paid two dollars and thirty-three cents a gallon for gas today!

I almost wept! Given that gas was touching five dolla’ a gallon not that long ago, this was AMAZING!

Ok, to be fair, there was a forty-five cent surcharge for using my debit card at the pump. But that’s ok. On twelve total gallons, that brings my price to two dolla’ and thirty-six cents a gallon!

Look!

Unbelievable.

I procured this petrol while out running errands. I have enjoyed going out to stores on quiet weekdays rather than busy weekends.

I’m actually not seeing a slow up in spending. I’m guessing the economy might be doing ok, people are still spending with reckless abandon.

I personally provided my own “stimulus package” to the economy by spending WAY too much money over the past couple days.

Retail therapy always cheers me up!

In other news….from the retail front lines…why are leg warmers back? I was at Target and they had a full rack of leg warmers. They also had also neon colored baby doll socks (perfect for wearing with your patent leather stiletto heels).

When exactly did my HIGH SCHOOL years return to fashion? Look, I wore the rhinestones and vintage clothes and armfulls of black rubber bracelets back in the day. Sure, I was into it.

But looking back on my own personal fashion…well. It is best left in the past.

But no, Target sees fit to return it to me.

Just. Ugh.

Slacker

Lazybones

Laggard

Sluggard

Loafer

Shirker

So endeth the thesaurus list.

Today, I am a slacker (sluggard?).

Today, I join the great masses of the unemployed.

Ne’er do well.

Thankfully, my shirker ways will end in exactly one week when I begin my new job and a whole new adventure.

I spent nine and a half years toiling for my former employer, and it was with a heavy heart that I left on Friday.

But ultimately, though painful, it was the right decision.

Next Monday I start with a company that is consistently in the top ten “best places to work”. We’ll see in the coming months whether or not I agree with that assessment, eh?

But for today, I’m a layabout. And I like it. Maybe a little too much.