Listen, maybe there's a message.
Choose happy things. Say yes to help. Listen and learn.
Yesterday — Saturday, June 14th — I got up early and painted a protest sign. I strapped it to the handlebars of my bike and went on a tour of the smaller protest gatherings in my part of the city. There were three, all of them attended by cheerful neighbors waving signs, making noise.
Later that day when I browsed the headlines, I immediately noticed how miserable the “President” and everyone sitting with him looked — like they wanted to be literally anywhere else.
Maybe there’s a message here about how you should do things because you genuinely believe they are the right things, rather than because you want to create a version of youself that looks a certain way.
Or, you know, maybe they’re just miserable. That’s possible too.
I lost much of May when my sweet/salty sidekick, Harley the Dog, became so sick he had to be hospitalized multiple times. He is recovering nicely, praise dog, but I was kneedcapped with anticipatory grief, by the burden of navigating the choices around his care. At one point I thought I might lose him, though with hindsight I have to admit that much of that fear came from a 3am phone call from the animal hospital where they needed my approval for treatment.
The expense was eyewatering — and added a layer of stress that I did not need. That burden was lifted by a friend who insisted I say yes when they offered to help out. A lot of folks wanted to help and after my friend wouldn’t take no for an answer, I let others help too.
I’m not struggling, I’ve been breaking even for a while now — I’ve just been underemployed. (More on that in a minute.) I have savings and I also have insurance for Harley. But this expense decimated my bank account, I had to pull from my retirement to cover the out of pocket expenses. The help that people offered allowed me to breathe through the difficult decisions, allowed me to put good care for Harley before the impact it would have on my bank account. My gratitude is beyond words.
I knew I would not treat him if he could heal, an awful yet absolutely right for us both choice. The vets we worked with were amazing, kind but candid at the same time, data driven, focused on if their care would give my boy not just a longer life, but a healthy one.
The way I cried with relief when the vet said, on our last call, “His tests are stable, I’m not too concerned. Let’s get some weight on him, and check back in a month.”
Maybe there’s a message here about focusing on a good life over a long one? Or one about saying yes and letting people help you? Or maybe it’s just that you should have insurance on your pet. You should do that for sure if your critter is not too old.
I’m still writing those interactive scripts and I was just assigned to another project for the same client. It’s a cool gig and I like the team I’m working with. When the lead creative director left the company, the key players unanimaously stated that yours truly had the chops to carry the work forward. As a contractor you rarely get feedback; the reward is more work. So it was a real ego boost to hear this.
It also gave me the opportunity to renegotiate terms which, when you’ve been slapped with vet bills and are underemployed, welp… I could still use a filler gig, but it looks like I’ll be doing this for a while and I got a nice raise.
The project is complicated and I have a lot to learn, both about the subject matter (network technology and security) and about writing for this particular format (interactive video in multi-screen environments). Part of me wishes that the content was science-y or arts education, but learning to write for this format means that when (if?) I’m done, I can chase work doing just that.
I feel lucky to get to take on new things this late in my career and I think I’m doing good work. Maybe there’s a message here about how gray haired workers deserve a learning opportunities too.
I am recording a new season of CANNED. The last episode of S1 is me talking about that time I got fired; Amy is in the host seat for this one. In the interim, we are doing guest spots on other podcasts, the first is now live on the Talking Shit… About podcast.
As always, if you want to tell your story or know someone who has a crazy story to tell, I’d be so grateful if you’d put them in touch with me.
Every time I talk with someone new about CANNED they are so enthusiastic about this project, about its neccessity. As with my day job, I’ve learned so much and my interview and speaking on the record skills have improved dramatically over the year (!) we’ve been publishing CANNED.
After I stop recording, I chat with my guest for a few more minutes to thank them and let them know what’s next. Folks are universally unburdened, they just wanted to tell that story they’ve been carrying around.
I’ve always wanted to be the person telling the story, but it’s been so rewarding to be on the receiving end. Maybe there’s a message here about the value of learning how to listen, to really listen.
Thanks for listening to me.
//Pam