To work and not to work

Starting in a new job feels a bit like being shoved onstage in the middle of a play. I know most of my lines but I have never met any of the other actors before. One is a perfectionist, one is a dreamer, one is an idealist, another is an accountant. Unlike my last job where everything needed to be done with a sense of great urgency, at my new job they seem to take their time to get every detail just right. There are more fiefdoms and little side conversations about how I will be helping them. Which is what I really want to do.

S joined the ranks of the unemployed this week. Her bosses kept saying the check was in the mail. She finally demanded to be laid off or paid, so they laid her off. Good timing on her part because, of course, I just got a job but also because her mother is going to Manhattan for an extended vacation and so S can go with her to help her get settled in (and, of course, go to a show and museums and see the philharmonic). Her mom is staying for a month. She has always wanted to stay in the city long enough to see all the things she wants to see (she’s in her 80s so she should definitely do it now). S will stay for the first week and then return home.

If you know any companies looking for a freelance writer/editor or for an employee who can work from home, let me know?

I dreamed about my brother Thom the other night. He looked younger and heavier and had shaved off his beard and cut his hair and looked very professional (not at all like himself). He seemed very busy, but happy. I experience odd moments of grief from time to time these past few weeks. I just let them wash over me. We are all meeting in the desert in another week or so for a party in his honor. N is coming down and R will be there too. It will be nice to be together in that way we always manage to be.