The crackle of the needle as the record turned

In which our Hero turns out to be the receipient of a surprise change of plans, instead of being the person announcing one

This week my employment situation stabilized after six months of churn. The arduous process of getting a crappy job offer and turning it down has passed, I turned it down with what I think is moderate grace, and now I am renewed for another year, with a 2% raise in my hourly rate and an extra clause that’s meant to be a sneaky 4% cut in the hours I can earn that rate in. Except that forcing me to stay home means more hours. Assuming that when a project is runnig that they can afford to have me stay home, which in the many years I’ve been here, they can’t. So win/win for me.

This week I bought a car and yesterday I brought it home, and then hit the internet so I could finally figure out what colour it is. Turns out that it’s called “Silver Blue Pearl,” which makes me think I’m going to just call it “Blue Pearl.” As I drove home, I figured out what was bothering me about the console when I test-drove it, which is that the spedometer is one colour, needle, lettering, markings. One colour and one intensity, which results in a display that’s curiously hard to read. Other than that, I have to say that I’m pleased. The half-hour drive home was enjoyable and the car responsive.

And apparently having so new a car also rated me the parking spot inside the garage. Which may not seem like a big deal, but I don’t think there’s been room to park a car inside that garage for a number of years, between storing the relative’s crap, and the various trash bins. So I’m a little touched that he cleaned it out for me. And a little anxious because I had to relearn the approach.

Vroom.

This week I got a weird statement in the mail from a credit card that I closed ten years ago. No balance, big credit on the account. After talking to a few agents, they’ll be sending me a cheque for around 200 dollars. Which is money for toys. (Have any of you seen that Bonsai Redwood Forest Kit?)

This week I go out to dinner with Hollywood. We don’t get to do this nearly as often as we used to, so it’s something I’ve been looking forward to. Only catch is that the place we usually go is on a Mall, and it’s December. But it’s a chance to show him my new car and take him for a ride.

This week I was supposed to finish by revealing that after much careful and secret planning, Nocturne and I would finally get to stand in the same room and lay eyes on each other. But that would be too easy, I guess, and instead an issue that’s been developing recently has preempted our plans, and so now I have a week off next week to spend with my girlfriend, and no girlfriend to spend it with. I’ll take a day or two for myself, just because, but I guess I might as well show up at work.

Sometimes I worry that I’m too cavalier with alcohol, because I’ll cheerfully down a bottle of wine myself, or do one of my “tasting flights” but after I found out last night, it was a glass of OJ I was using to drown my sorrows. Scotch really would have been more appropriate. Because losing this plan has been a punch in the stomach. Except for picking up my car, I spent last night in bed, drained.

Despite my sadness, it’s the right thing to do. And her assignment in Narnia (I got tired of saying “far away”) won’t last forever. Once she’s had a chance to catch her breath, we’ll start looking at building a new plan. And once I’ve had a chance to be sad a little, I can get excited about a new plan.