Not afraid of what’s to come.

Normally people talk about having ups and downs in life. From my perspective, the past eight weeks of my life have had a lot of downs. I won’t lie, there has been a few good moments. But, it’s seemed as though the bad has far outweighed the good. For me, bad things don’t come in three’s, bad things come in eleven’s or twelve’s.

Nevertheless, life goes on and we must learn to deal with what is put in front of us. For me, for the first time in eight weeks, I am feeling hopeful. At least I think this is what hope is.

Today was a really good day. Nothing overly special happened, it was just a calm quiet Sunday. I think that’s why I liked it so much though. Calm and quiet are good things to have right now.

This week I will be getting some blood tests done to test for autoimmune diseases. I’m not afraid of being diagnosed with something. At this point, I would actually really like to be given a diagnosis. At least with a diagnosis, I could have proof that my symptoms aren’t in my head. Also, with a diagnosis, I could say ‘okay, this is what it is, lets work towards minimizing my symptoms and the toll it takes on me’. Wish me luck!

In other news, something really cool is happening this year that I haven’t really talked, or thought much about the past eight weeks. My two younger brothers are identical twins. This year, they’re having babies… just two months apart from each other. They’re going to become dad’s for the first time, right around the same time. I’m excited to see what the future holds for them, I am excited to meet the newest little additions to my family and I have been really enjoying shopping for adorable baby clothes for them. The babies will be technically both cousins and half-siblings (DNA of identical twins being the same). How cool is that?

This week I am determined to make farther steps to getting a new job. I’m tired of being unemployed. I don’t need work to feel as though I have a purpose, but I want to work to feel as though I am contributing to something. Furthermore, I want to travel so I need to work to save money. All things said, I NEED A JOB. Vee does not want to tolerate being unemployed any longer. I am a badass, intelligent human being with a university degree and ten year’s experience working PR for a massive organization. I CAN DO THIS. I CAN. (That was a pep talk to myself, in case it wasn’t clear)

It’s 8:30 on a Sunday night and I’m already considering curling up and calling it a night. Is this what being a grandma is like?

Rest easy, world.

Day 27: What’s it like to be homeless?

The day that I was fired from my job I gave notice that I would be moving out of this apartment. At the time it seemed like the right thing to do. I didn’t want to be here, and if I wasn’t working, why should I stay? I was clearly way too over-confident in thinking that I would have everything sorted out in one-month’s time.

Here we are 27 days later and I don’t have any more answers now than I had the day I gave my notice. I’m packing my things, cleaning my apartment and getting ready to become a stow-away/couch surfer/mooch from everyone I know.

In the truest, societal definition of the sense, I am not ‘homeless’. I won’t be on the streets. I won’t be in dire straights not knowing where my next meal will come from. Thankfully, I do have some extremely wonderful and loving people in my life whom I know will make sure I have a place to sleep during this awkward transition I seem to be going through. That being said, it’s going to be weird to be of no fixed address. To not have my things and my bed and say I am going home to my place at the end of each day. Maybe I’ll get used to that. Maybe I’ll even like that. It might be nice to have nothing to tie one’s-self down.

The one thought that has remained constant during the past 27 days is the desire to travel. I have the most intense, urgent desire to up and leave everything behind and see the world. I want to take beautiful photos, eat exhilarating foods and spend all of my savings just living. Truly living.

Perhaps I’m wrong. But then again we’re all allowed to make our own definitions of what it means to truly live. I can’t shake this feeling though that there’s got to be more out there for me than a cubicle with my name on it.

Maybe I don’t need a fixed address. Maybe what I need is out there… somewhere in this world that I have yet to travel.

Question of the day: where’s your ideal travel destination?

I’ve been reading this a lot lately.

“At this time, I regretfully have to share that we’ve decided to move ahead with other applicants for this role. We will certainly keep you in mind and reach out in case another opportunity comes up that may be a good fit. Hope you understand that it’s often quite difficult for us to decide who we proceed with in this process.

Wishing you all the best in your job search! “

The thing about trying to “prove yourself” based off the information listed in a single piece of paper is that it really provides no insight as to who you are. Being turned down for all of these positions before they event want to give me a chance for an interview is frustrating to say the least.

Truth is, I could make a huge fucking difference to your office. I could.

Waiting for someone to realize that is an annoying process. How do you make yourself stand out on a piece of paper? How do you sum up your whole life, skills, personality and successes in one piece of paper? Someone please tell me because I really don’t seem to be doing well at it.

-V

Stories from a toxic office.

At my former job – as a female working in a male dominated office – 24 men to four women – one of the things required of females to do was to answer the phones. Rather than hiring a receptionist to do receptionist jobs, the men of the office decided that all the females were required to share the duty of answering the phones.

None of the men in the office were willing to acknowledge that answering phones takes time out of one’s day. They didn’t care to acknowledge it, so they continued to pile things onto our ‘to-do’ lists and act as though it took no time at all to answer the phone hundreds of times per day.

The HR Manager, Steve, thought he was a funny man. In addition to frequently making racist and sexist remarks and encouraging other men in the office to laugh at him when he did so, he frequently liked to make remarks about the appearance of females in the office – who he thought was pretty, who he was attracted to, who he thought was ugly, etc…

One summer’s day last August, Steve decided to call the office with a fake accent to be his particularly heinous self and play (what he considered) a practical joke on me. Two of the four women in the office were named Ally.

In a fake Chinese accent, pretending to be an idiot, Steve asked for Ally. When I responded with “Which Ally would you like to speak with?” Steve’s response was ‘The bang-able one’.

‘Excuse me?’ I responded. Truthfully, I should have just hung up then.

As he started chuckling, I recognized that laugh and realized that it was Steve, thinking he was being funny.

‘Put me through to the sexy one, please,’ he said whilst laughing.

At that point I did hang up on him.

Steve promptly called back and, when I answered the phone, told me that I needed to learn how to take a joke.

I’m sorry. How is that a joke?

How is the HR Manager able to make jokes like that? How does behaviour like that get stopped in an office when it’s the HR Manager is leading the charge of the disgusting behaviour? Why is it okay to be like that? And why, as a female, am I being treated as hostile and overbearing for telling him that he can’t say shit like that.

It’s not okay.

Where do you go to exclaim that when it’s the HR Manager who thinks that behaviour like that is acceptable? Do you just keep working in a toxic office that doesn’t treat the female gender with respect? When you go and ask for help and outsiders tell you ‘talk to HR’, what are your other options?

And he wonders why women in that office have such a hard time feeling like part of the team.

-V