ain’t nothin’ but an update

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Warning: This entry is intended for informational purposes only.

I’ve been working at B&N for, oh, three or four months now and still can’t stand it. Today I found myself nearly shouting to a co-worker that I don’t have the tools to do my job. (Really, I don’t–but let’s not get into it.) He laughed.

Then, later today, over dinner (or, rather, as Cyndi ate and I poked around online) I yammered on and on about the various reasons I dislike my job, my frustrations with the whole scenario. She laughed.

I find none of this funny. In fact, I find it rather frustrating that I’ve been reduced to bitching about my job–particularly about the little things (and it’s all little things; there is nothing big about my job). It’s quite ridiculous, in fact.

So let’s focus on something more important like, oh, say, the fact that I HAVE OFFICIALLY APPLIED FOR MY DREAM JOB. (That’s right, come and get me Mr. Jinx.) The cover letter, she be written; the resume, she be sent. Everything was electronically transferred through the proper channels last night. It’s done. Now all I have to do is sit on my hands and fret for the next three weeks or so. Got to find something to do to keep myself busy.

But let’s not even focus on the day-to-day stuff. This is, after all, about things much larger than all that. Yes, even larger than dream jobs.

I went for an amazing hike this weekend. Actually, I’m not sure that it qualifies as a hike as we never really strayed from the paved road we followed. But the road was covered completely in snow, so it was more like a wide trail. And it wasn’t particularly flat (though I didn’t realize the grade until we turned back towards our start and were pointed down hill). Anyway. My god it was beautiful. The place? Icicle creek, perhaps the most beautiful place I’ve been in the grand state of Washington. Had it been a scoch warmer, and had there been a dry spot to sit down in, I would like to have plopped down and written a bit. Nothing in particular–it was just that moving. I’m not very good at describing places on the spur of the moment, especially places as big as this one. And this isn’t even about the way the place looked; it’s about how big it was, how far away it felt, how relaxed I was, and how very little my job at B&N or the cover letter I’d been fretting over or anything else mattered.

I kept having those moments. You know, the ones that we don’t talk about because we are so inside ourselves that there’s absolutely no way to articulate what we’re thinking or feeling. After a week of crap, of anger and worry and all that other icky stuff that’s tied up in the negatoryium, it was so good to get out, to take the time to really look at tiny paths in the snow on the sides of hills, the places where rocks had loosened themselves and tumbled down. Nice, too, to not hear anything save for the creek or the footsteps of a couple of very happy dogs.

Everything felt big and small at the same time. I haven’t experienced that in a long time.

This is about the biggness of it all. Or, as my friend Rowan refered to it in one of his stories–the ‘ness’ of it all. Sunday was full of ‘ness.’ Icicle Creek is full of ‘ness.’


Author: Kim Sharp

more later

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