Conclusions

Today I went and chatted with the guy who's trying to recruit me. As I expected, the job would be way too broad. They need someone to write fact sheets and other informational, do the VP's speeches and powerpoints, do high-level strategic thinking, link different departments and processes, project-manage, be on-point for the media, and about a zillion other things. That's so 10 years ago, in terms of my career history. They do not foresee being given the budget to hire the headcount they really need. I no longer take pride in doing the work of six people. I want to do the work of one person, and do it very well. I'm a strategic thinker, a finder of best practices and greater efficiencies, an adviser and a doer. I do not want to be pigeonholed as a glorified copygirl. They can keep that job and come back knocking when they have the job I'm looking for. I'm not happy to be unable to step up to the department that's luring me. It's the place where everything's happening. It's a place from which I'd be able to do much good. But it's also a place that's not ready for me. Beyond all that, I love the department I'm in now, the people I work with now, and the work I do now. Here I have the room to do great work and to make a difference. So, I'll stay put for now and enjoy my good fortune.

One last Easter service to go..

Went last night to "The Service of the Murdered God," as my pal Andrew calls it. "Lamentations" is what Holy Cross calls it, and it's one of the most beautiful evening services of Easter Week. I qualify it because I have never attended a morning or afternoon service during Easter week. One year (maybe next year) I'll take the whole week off and attend every service, just to see what they all are like. Bob and I were invited for a Pascha dinner at my godparents' home. My godmother is going all-out: lamb, spanakopita, and all. I'll bring three appetizers. I can't wait. It's been two years since I was able to celebrate an Easter Sunday.

Because of Pascha I have not written all week. At our last writer's group meeting I turned in a partial effort, but I'm not happy with that start and may let the whole idea lapse. Meanwhile I found a story I began years ago and then lost (that was 3 computers ago, the file is gone forever, and I thought I didn't have a hard copy--well, I found a hard copy two days ago, to my delight). I still like that fragment a lot, so I'll begin fleshing it out and will probably just abandon the other one. It's just not going anywhere.

Today (make that yesterday) I was head-hunted for the first time ever. The exact quote was "What do I have to do to get you to come work for me?" It would mean a lot more money, but I love my current job. So I listened but didn't leap. Neither did I decline. I'll need to do some interviewing and investigating before deciding if I want to take the offer, but it was flattering to get the call.

Holy Week: It has me

It's begun. Actually, it began on Sunday, but I didn't go to that evening service (fourth mortal sin). I did go tonight, for the second of three "Service of the Bridegroom" services. It was short, as Holy Week services go, and as my friend Andrew says: "They just keep getting longer from here." They're gorgeous, mainly. But I always find myself praying at about the midway point for the creaky old head cantor to just hurry it up a little. He does tend to linger over his words--in Greek because they are so pretty, and in English so he can (a) parse it out, and (b) lose everyone who's trying to sing along with him. He's cranky that way. It starts pissing off the other cantors and then we end up listening to a very subtle struggle going on back there in the balcony. A younger cantor will pipe up and stomp on the end of the head cantor's line as he dwindles it down to a period, and then the second cantor will just take off from there, less in-tune but much more up to speed, which brings relief to all of us down below. We humans are all so weak. I will need to skip tomorrow's service, the last of the "Bridegroom" series. After that it's Holy Wednesday--a really good one because we receive the Sacrament of Holy Oil on our faces and hands. It's a strict-fast week, which is good from a temporal reasons also, as I continue my quest to ditch the ballast. I've lost 15 pounds since I began my training regimen (that was last July). I have 20 and change to go. My quest will get a one-day suspension on Easter Sunday, as THS and I have an invitation to a Greek Easter dinner (!!). I hadn't anticipated an invitation, and we were just going to do a reasonable little Greek meal--some lamb chops and salad, with baklava for dessert. But now I just have to make a Greek appetizer to bring to my godparents' house. Alleluia.

It takes a year, and then some

In two-ish hours (around 3 a.m.), it'll be 1 year since my mother died. Today is also the beginning of Holy Week, and I expect it will be a more emotional seven days than other Paschal weeks have been. I'm doing OK tonight, though over the last two, I experienced a resurgence in the insomnia I suffered last year, and I found myself weepier and touchier than normal. I don't plan a special memorial for tomorrow. I've been remembering my mother all year long. I'll go to Palm Sunday service, where I'll light a candle for her as I do each Sunday I'm in church, and then I'll go see my nearly-100-year-old friend, Betty. And then I'll go home for a while. I may go to the gym, as I usually do on Sunday evenings. Somehow it seems as though living well and happily this day would be the best way to honor my mother, who worked so hard to get me born, grown and launched, and who was my friend. And so at least right now, this significant day is sitting mostly peaceably with me. Yes, I'm up writing at 1 a.m. instead of sleeping, but at least I'm not sobbing as I type. The next impending holiday, Mother's Day, does bother me, though. Last year I barely noticed Mother's Day, because I was so engulfed in grief. But this year, I inwardly flinch at every ad that begins "Get Mom a..." or "Mom will LOVE this...". It's the same when "Dads and Grads" ads start popping up in June--and it's been eight years since my dad died, so I suppose I can't expect to be inured. The sharpness of grief has left me, and I have regained my balance. What remains is a deep longing to talk with both of my parents. I wish I could dream of them, but it doesn't happen. So all I have is photos. Now and again I'll get one out and stare at it, and imagine their voices, their laughter, the way they moved as they spoke. And sometimes, a little, that helps.

Off my fast

I fell off the Lenten fast when I went to Boston for a week. Really, I would've had to have been a saint to stay on it: My aunt put together a fabulous dinner reception for THS and me and invited all our aunts and uncles, second cousins, and others who couldn't fly out to our wedding. She even got a little wedding cake from a local baker. It was all so tasty. Then of course there was the famous Abe and Louie's steakhouse downtown. I mean, once you've started so thoroughly down the pike, why not just get into a Ferrari and speed yourself along? So now I'm not going to fast again until Holy Week, which is at the end of this month. Gah! Hey, at least I have something recent for confession. If I go. Getting back to Things Food-Related: I'm considering joining The Daring Bakers' Blogroll. The Daring Bakers are a bunch of cooks who all agree to bake a chosen recipe each month, and then blog about their experiences. The Blogroll just lists the blogs of all the bakers. I realize that joining the TDBB would be a be quite in keeping with the mission of this blog, which is to distract me from writing. And so what likely will happen is that I'll decommission the wedding blog (because hey, I'm married) and instead write a food blog. You wouldn't believe how many food blogs exist. Some of them are so graphic and sensual that they make Nigella Lawson look like nun. Anyway, that's the noodling I'm doing right now. I just got back from the gym and I'm completely worn out, which keeps me from dwelling on "hey, it's nearly been a year since my mom died"-type thoughts. Which is good, as I have writing to avoid. The writing I'm currently attempting to avoid is a story that's due to my writers' group on Tuesday. Hrmmm...