22:26 - 22.12.07
penultimate
Sunday I travelled around the city to do two piecework assignments. At the second one, one of the staff was wearing a scent that literally took my breath away. I was coughing so hard from the effect of it that I literally couldn't talk. Instead of backing off, she kept coming closer until I was at the point of passing out. It took from then until I arrived back home, about an hour later, that my lungs stopped spasming. The odd thing was that I had taken my inhaler out of the bottom of my purse and put it in my coat pocket on the way downtown, without even thinking about it. I don't usually carry anything in my pockets, because there is less chance some one will question you when in a retail setting and also because it reduces the chance of having my pocket picked on transit. The other odd thing was that whatever the female was wearing wasn't strongly scented in terms of intensity. It would have to be a chemical component that is a carrier rather than a scent that caused the harm.
Monday saw me at the one scheduled interview arising from my resume-sending blitz on Friday. First thing in the morning I arrived at the agency, even before it opened for the day. The building was familiar because I had attended volunteer meetings in one of its boardrooms years ago. The building belonged to, and was designed by, the architect who was our host. Very interesting gentleman, he was. Like him, the building is interesting too - just very comfortable energy in it. No specific jobs were presented, but the conversation was quite unusual for an hr firm. Could be because it was European. As I've noted before, European companies treat their workers as partners and it shows in terms of productivity, loyalty and, most important of all, profits. When business gurus in the Americas looked for models of management, they should have looked east instead of west to Asia, I think. Asia is great in terms of the short term sprint, with a workforce already cowed by repressive government regimes. Workers' families are now successfully suing those firms for the abuse of their breadwinners, who are literally dying of overwork and underpay. Added into that are very dangerous health and safety practices, as well as corrupt manufacturing processes. Hence all those recalls, y'all. European goods are renowned for their quality.
The unique thing about the Monday commute was the opening of the new train station now located much closer to my home. The bus ride was less than half as long as the trip to the older end-of-the-line station. When we arrived at the new station, there were the usual accoutrements of a gala. News reporters and cameramen chatting up commuters in live-feed to the various morning shows. Balloons and tables set up with flyers about the changes in bus routes and times of service. I don't really like the new layout, because travellers are left exposed to the elements - a couple of small glass shelters being the only areas where one can try to enter, if it isn't already filled to capacity - if the weather is extreme. No shelter from the sun at all. There is also nowhere close enough to go, if there is an emergency. A large big box store is about a block away, but faces the other direction. If there was an assault, it wouldn't be visible unless someone was on the loading dock. I imagine some bright light in the planning department was thinking in terms of safety for their machines. It would have been nice, though, if they had also taken into consideration the human beings who have to use the facilities early in the morning, as well as late at night, when those stores a block away are closed. It made me very uncomfortable to be there even with a lot of other travellers around. Don't like that, nor the fact that several different routes that used to serve the community have been discontinued. Not everyone wants to go downtown you know. Grumble.
Tuesday, my brother came by for a quick visit. He had offered to help me out financially, so that I could at least buy my meds and some groceries. We chatted a bit about his new job and he offered to pass my resume on to one of his buddies, who is a partner in an employment agency. We discussed some of the issues that arose over the summer with respect to other members of our family and their attempts to involve themselves in my renovations. The comment of "their way or the highway", means the highway for me. My brother was very polite about it, but was obviously designated to deliver the comments to me from those directly involved. I'm fine with their position, since I didn't ask any of them to be involved other than for advice any way. The conclusion I drew, some time ago, was that I didn't want them involved in the process at all. This just makes it easier to say no and be done with it. I don't need either permission or approval to renovate my home so it supports my physical needs. My lungs can't tolerate the fumes produced by a lot of the artificial materials they insist should be used, for example. The sticking point seems to be the idea that there is only one way to do the work correctly, "properly" - "the way we've always done it". Whatever. I've spent a lot of time researching alternatives that will work better for me. I want an environmentally friendly and financially sustainable home at the end of the exercise, not more of the same '50's approach to construction. Actually, what I really like are the construction styles used in Norway. They have similar climate challenges to us and have centuries-old,energy-efficient building techniques that aren't dependent on fossil fuels, you see. Different isn't necessarily wrong; it is just different. Fanaticism can be as easily expressed outside of just religion any time that "one way", whatever it is, is the "only way" theme is expressed. I did receive a response from my brother's buddy that afternoon and set up an appointment for Thursday.
After a visit to the doctor on Wednesday to get my prescriptions renewed, I headed off to the drugstore to get them filled. Good chunk of the money my brother provided for me was gone right there. I'm grateful for his help, because there would have been no way I could have covered the cost myself. The rest of the day was spent cleaning out more drawers, cupboards and closets in preparation for removing the next block of cabinets in the kitchen to make way for the three pantries still sitting in my front room. Once those decades-old cabinets are out of there, my sons can lay the ceramic floor tiles in the kitchen, as well as in the entryway and bathrooms, so that it starts to look like a real home again. On the weekend, when my sister and her hubby came by, they also brought some wallpaper and paint that they didn't want any more. The wallpaper will look great on the two feature walls one sees when walking in the front door. The wallpaper looks sort of like the night sky. I love black and I love watching the stars. There is a large, high set window facing those walls, with a north facing orientation, so the two should complement each other well - as soon as I figure out how I am going to reach high enough to hang the paper, that is. I was discussing some ideas with numbers three and six sons about the entryway as well. A long time ago I used to work with stained glass and have always wanted to frame that feature window. Once I get the paper up, I'm hoping something creative will come to mind as a design. All that in time - after I find a job, that is. The materials for making stained glass are very expensive. Late in the afternoon I received a response to another resume that I had sent off six weeks ago. It was for one of the dream jobs I really wanted. The writer said they had revamped the position and were very interested in having a discussion about it with me. Hallelujah! That interview is scheduled for early in the New Year; something hopeful to look forward to at last.
Thursday I headed downtown to the interview with my brother's buddy. Near where my Dad's store used to be, up on the escarpment overlooking downtown and Chinatown both. Old stomping grounds. Helped reduce the anxiety when trying to find the building anyway. The agency is quite small, but my brother's friend is an ex banking executive, so I am guessing he has significant contacts in that industry. The discussion we had was around whether my transferable skills would fit in the context of a financial institution. Records management is a generic field in concept, but I have always felt very strongly that one should understand and appreciate the importance and use of the documents one handles. That isn't how it has been taught in formal settings, but I think it is a disservice to the company that is paying you to protect their security and profitability both. Anyone can put a piece of paper in a hard copy file or upload it to a electronic document management system, but if none of the staff whose work it supports or drives can find it, then that document might just as well be burned. Right? The reason I had the amount of contracts I did in the industry I worked in was because some sort of crisis around lost documents cost those employer major amounts of money in terms of fines, lawsuits, loss of inventory and loss of income/revenue from propeties they owned, but weren't aware of. Some companies ended up bankrupt as a result, throwing a lot of their staff out of work too.
After our meeting, I headed back downtown to shop for my sister's son - another reason for our visit on the weekend. My nephew had sent a list of book titles he wanted to receive for Christmas. He told his parents he didn't want new ones as much as he wanted as many titles as possible on the list to read. Secondhand bookstores aren't that plentiful in their small bedroom community. Besides, they know how much I like to poke around in the ones here in the city. Great match of interests and ability to get the job done, since they both work during the day when those shops are open. When I walked into my favorite secondhand book store, "Wordsworth", the owner greeted me with enthusiasm. I think he was so impressed that a teenager would only want books - and second hand ones at that - that he grabbed my printout of the list from me and started piling what he had on the counter for me to choose among. Kerouac, Dostoevsky, Vonnegut, Salinger, Manabu, Camus, Sun Tzu, Yamada, Marquez, Tolstoy, Saint Exupery, Coupland, and so on. Between the two of us, we were able to gather together a good assortment of tomes within the spending limits my sister had set. This is my nephew whose blog I read on occasion. His writing style and use of our language is a lot like Kerouac's, but I think my nephew might be a bit more analytical and globally aware than Jack. That trip was my treat for the day. The hardest part was not succumbing to looking at all the other books that I wanted to read for myself - there were hundreds of them - all just begging to be taken home and treasured for their contents. Oh well. My reward for being good was that when I walked in my home the phone was ringing. It was the interviewer from last week - the day I did a piecework assignment as well - telling me that she had an interview with a client booked for me in early January too. Yay!!! Three possible job opportunities now. I now have some reason to keep hoping the new year will be better. The only down side is still how I am going to pay all the bills due now. Creditors don't really care about job interviews, do they.
Friday was another day of digging through closets - mostly because I have misplaced my photo of the Dalai Lama that was given to me as a gift a couple of summers ago by the one Tibetan store owner. I had looked everywhere else, but just can't find it. I still didn't locate that treasure, but I did find the letter from the Pope's secretary responding to me when I had written to His Holiness a decade ago protesting the use of the Catholic church's name and authority when the local provincial government invoked it to cut and destroy educational, health and family support programs. I asked if that was really what that church taught, since I wasn't very familiar with it's canon. Shortly after, that provincial government backed off their aggressive tactics, although they then just snuck in their agenda through the pronouncements of that laughable "think tank", the Fraser Institute, instead. At least the church didn't get tarred as a result of the actions of a bunch of venal, cowardly policy wonks. Ooops - "Judge not, lest ye be judged likewise..." gospel of Matthew. A decade later I get really cranky when I hear local citizens complain about the incredible damage those cuts have caused to their near and dear ones; the sick, the weak, and the most vulnerable of children. Where were they ten years ago? Ummm, I really want to rant. After all the Christ child was born in a barn - homeless - because there was no room at the inn or with the midwives either, I guess. But Peace On Earth ... someday.
The other lost treasures I found were a couple of pairs of earrings and a delicate bracelet that I had thought were among the jewelry stolen when my home was broken into during the federal election in 2000. Most of my jewelry was gifts I had received over the years from my parents and had tremendous sentimental value. They had bought it from my uncle, the gemologist, so it was also valuable for other reasons too. The insurance company refused to compensate me for it, "Because a single mother couldn't possibly have such things". They never quite dared to accuse me of lying, but I never received any compensation for it nor was any of it returned. The insurance agent also implied I faked the robbery and extensive vandalism in my home "Because that's what single moms on welfare do" The fact that I have never received welfare for myself or my sons, nor the fact that I was working at the time and had been ever since the boys' dad left, were facts he refused to accept or acknowledge even though I had the paper proof to back myself up. I finally had to write their head office and threaten a discrimination charge before they would even replace the boys' lost items, even though the police confirmed there was a break and enter ring operating in the community at the time and that the details around my break-in were identical to several other homes in the community. Had I not been so overwhelmed with the 16 hour days I was putting in to get the election administered, I would have proceeded with further action. At the time, the fact that the boys were looked after was good enough to get on with. I still don't feel safe in my home though and a lot of that fear began during that double theft - first by the punks who broke in and then by the insurance company who had taken all my premiums then refused to honour the contract arising. Ooops, rant again. "Goodwill to Men". Somehow that is a lot harder to achieve than the songs imply. I guess I need to try harder.
Today number three son arrived around noon to help me with some errands that require a vehicle. You know, like picking up a Christmas tree. I was afraid that they would be sold out, being so close to the big day. The first place we went to was a Boy Scouts' tree lot. Prefer to support local clubs and charities, you see. There were trees there, but the entire lot was locked up and there was no one available to let us in or take our money. Given that the lot was probably manned by parent volunteers, it was easy to guess that on the last weekend before Christmas there just wasn't anyone available to spend their free time working for the club. There was a list of other locations taped on the fence, but my son and I already knew most of those lots were empty. Headed for one store that my intuition said should have some, even though it wasn't on the list. My son said that he had driven by that location and hadn't seen any evidence of trees there. What made me persist is that that store has a year-round indoor garden centre. Sure enough, they not only had real trees, but had also thrown all of them on sale for $15 apiece. My son found a beautiful one that fit perfectly for my living room. Next up, dropped off a small thank you gift to the one friend who provided me with the secondhand furniture just a while ago. I had picked up something last year as a gift, although I had no one in mind at the time, but that I felt was important to have for a future time. This seemed to be the right person and time, somehow. Stopped off at the grocery store next to pick up some things just too heavy for me to carry altogether - laundry soaps and such. All the while my son was telling me all about his new girlfriend. He's on cloud nine about her. She's a lot like me, he kept saying. I've seen her photo on his Facebook account, another reason it is such a valuable parenting tool, and she is very pretty. Somehow I don't think it was our looks that he was comparing though.
After he dropped me and my parcels off, I started researching some companies that my oldest son wants to make application to for employment. He seems to be gaining more confidence in himself and the skills he has in abundance. Willing to apply for more than entry level positions in the areas where he has experience now. Good news there. While I was working away, the cats were thoroughly engaged in checking out their news toys. You know, the tree as well as the yards of twine that wrapped it tightly. Mel was fighting with that twine even before I had it off the tree. What next, aerated water fountains and now their own squirrel catcher. Visions of sugar plums dance in their heads. Good night dear diary.
�
�
