Pheonix is setting a good example for me, following the doctor's orders to take it easy for at least a week. No, the Doc didn't say to find a nice box to curl up in. It was no shooting hoops or lifting heavy things. I don't think Pheonix has EVER done heavy lifting, but he does his job. His job being to be cute and my buddy and a character, in return for love, love, and food and cardboard boxes and some more food.
Also, I wasn't supposed to lift my arm above shoulder height. So I was in a tough position. I had to go to work so I could resign, but I couldn't work. I couldn't bring myself to stay out on sick leave AND quit, because to me it seemed like that would be giving no notice at all. Then there is the matter of rent, and actual days needed for packing (oh boy). I have already paid my last month's rent, but I have to give thirty days notice, which means I have to do it at the start of the month. I want at the very least 2 weeks not working to pack, clean, and move, because working full time and moving is just not fun.
The ibuprofin didn't work. I tried to grit my teeth and bear it, but when Bosslady showed up around eight that day I had to tell her I couldn't work. I ended up needing two weeks to recover, and wasn't back at work until January 29th. I guess I could have given notice then, but I just felt like I'd be cutting it too close- I would still have the two weeks to move at the end of Febuary, but then life tossed in a couple more dilemmas.
My sub left. The office is now shorthanded.
The union unexpectedly reached an agreement on a new contract, throwing an emergency evaluation session into play. This is where every aspect of our job is scrutinized and a new salary is assigned. Sounds good right? Except the last two times, we got pay cuts, and this coming evaluation, sceduled for feb 23rd- march 7th, is gearing up to be the worst pay cut yet. I am so glad I never joined the union. I still have to take the contracts they negotiate, but I don't have to pay them for the reaming. It's several hundred dollars a year and I just don't find that appealing.
The most difficult curveball has been Clarence disapearing again. I am pretty sure he's alive, and doing well somewhere out in the world, but I wanted to make absolute sure he wasn't coming back before I leave. I have scoured the neighborhood for him, but no sign. The only way I refrain from crying all day every day for him is by thinking about him only in hopeful terms. Hoping he's happy, and safe and warm, and hoping that just maybe he'll come back one last time. The thought of him coming back to an empty house has definitely hindered my leaving.
I think it's time now. I'll help my office through the evaluation so they won't feel the pinch of two less employees. I'm able bodied again, thank goodness. And I raised a strong young kitty able to do well in the world on his own, free to live the life he chooses. March 8th I turn 29, and it will be my first day of freedom. My first day of a new year, a new life. I'll hit the road with trailer in tow march 30th. Until then, though, I think I will follow Pheonix's example, and find a place to curl up and dream. At least on the weekends.
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