poplar road

I began the day in a good mood on May 30th, having managed to set up an information interview the previous day to talk to a local event coordinator about the business. With that to look forward to, I was tidying up my desk, making sure I hadn't let anything fall by the way during my concerted job hunt. I found a forgotten invoice, for Richard's membership in a provincial association for residential heating and cooling contractors. With Richard being busy with Unimog stuff 24/7 the past several months, I'd been taking care of all the business's mail, bills, etc, and I'd talked to the association a few times before. The gal on the other end of the phone, Nelle, remembered me and we chatted a bit as she looked up Richard's membership information.

I apologized for it being late but she assured me it wasn't a problem because a recent amalgamation meant she had much bigger fires to put out than late membership fees, being the assocation's only paid staff member. As Nelle counted off her hours of overtime and lack of extra hands, I commiserated, having experienced the pressures of non-profit organizations whose staff always seem to do the work of two or three people. And managed to add - because I was having a positive-thinking kind of day - that I was job-hunting. She then said she's just written to the board, requesting permission to hire administrative help. Ah hah! The questions began.

She determined I have high level computer, administration, and writing skills. Thank you. And a properly appointed home office set up already? Yes. And given that I've called to pay a membership fee, I must have some concept of what the industry is about... Sure. The clincher seemed to be when she said, "I don't suppose you work on a Mac?" When I said yes I could practically hear her doing the yippy skippy dance. At this point I was already pacing, too jittery to sit still. When she tentatively brought up wages, I decided to reveal what I made at the last job, and she actually increased it! Somebody pinch me. She got more and more excited, and I was so breathless I could hardly answer her remaining questions. We got off the phone after almost an hour, so I could send her my resume. She wrote saying I'd made her day, and she'd be able to let me know on Friday if I was hired.

You see? Serendipity. What a bizarre thing, to pay a bill and do a job interview all in one go. Nelle needed only part-time help, and a self-employed contract position at that (no safety net), so I was still of two minds about it as I waited for Friday to come around. I had my information interview that day (which went well since it turned out they might be hiring), and even before that things were looking up when my naturopath complimented me on my interview outfit and we started talking about the annual naturopath's conference. They've never used an event coordinator before, but he's the chair and he's planning a change. I could FEEL the universe smiling away. So I went to my interview and then rushed home.

The phone rang as I walked in the door. It was Nelle, and when the formal interview began I had to interrupt her list of my new duties to ask, "So, does this mean I'm hired?" She'd received approval from the board's VP that afternoon. I absorbed that as she went back to details - like adding another phone line to my home office for the toll free number, and travelling the following Friday to their board planning session in Vancouver - and right in the midst of this huge rush of anxiety and euphoria, the universe tested my sense of humour. As I paced in front of my office windows, out on the lawn appeared three large, horned creatures, placidly chewing on my flower beds.

"Nelle," I said as I took the portable phone with me out the front door, "I have to interrupt for a moment, there are cows on my front lawn and I have to yell." So I yelled and they left... only to return about 20 minutes later as Nelle and I were talking about per diems and office supplies. And the joys of working from home offices in the middle of nowhere. She has to catch a plane or two ferries if she wants to attend meetings in Vancouver, let's put it that way. At this point I realized these "cows" had no udders, and maybe I should wonder whether they'd run away from me, or at me the way I was yelling at them. Are you getting the hysterical air of unreality here? After an hour on the phone with Nelle, I couldn't decide whether to laugh or cry. I'm grateful for the bulls in the rose bushes so I had an excuse to shout, or I might not have made it all the way through that phone call!

That was two weeks ago tomorrow. So much has happened since then. I drove to Vancouver last week, to attend the board's planning session, now that two organizations have amalgamated into one and have a new mandate to figure out. It was a great overview opportunity for me, not to mention first impressions meeting Nelle and the board for perhaps the only time this year. In honour of the occasion I bought myself a new blouse to stretch my only suit out over the two day meeting, and a coat. A pale pink coat. Until this past year I avoided pink altogether, but I've been trying to embrace the feminine just a little bit more. So far for work that meant a lower-cut top and a suit jacket without the usual hard-edged lapels, but on day two of the planning meeting, there I was in my lilac-coloured top and the pink knee-length coat instead of the suit jacket. Amazingly, I felt more confident in pink than in black, although that might have something to do with the second day being less nerve-wracking. At any rate, I was able to contribute, asked questions that revealed a lot about the various board members' agendas, and get an outsider's sense of the association. Nelle debriefed with me afterwards and I was happy to find she sought out and valued my observations and suggestions. We're going to be a great team.

Today was the toughest day, though. My first official work day, starting when her faxed contract letter woke me at 7:30am. Yesterday we had a long conversation about our expectations, and the last of my stomach-churning fears melted away when she reassured me that although she can't guarantee me even 20 hours per week, she's sure that most of the time I'll be working much more than that. And for more than the year my contract specifies. Full time would have been nice, but there will be a week or two here or there, especially in the beginning, and after a few months I can get a sense of how much other work I might need to add to fill in the gaps. To start, I'm full time as I get the hang of all this new information - memberships, registrations, certificates, seminars - and we'll see how it goes once I get my sea legs, as it were. I'm still a little queasy about the lack of unemployment benefits after having to rely on EI for most of a year, but that's what savings accounts are for. It's hard to tell so soon, but I'm pretty sure that if the event coordinator's plans for an assistant result in a job offer to me next week (I'll hear from her on Tuesday), I'm going to have to turn her down because I'm going to be way too busy. It would be interesting work, but at $10 less per hour (yes, you read that right), plus the cost of fuel these days for the 50k commute to the city, it wouldn't be worth jeopardizing my time on this job. I did a 9 hour day today, and barely scratched the surface of all the details I need to cram in my poor brain. But the best part of this job is the amount of control I have over my workload and schedule. It's all there - the variety, from desktop publishing to customer service to event planning to proof-reading, the excellent wages, the flexible schedule working from my lovely home office (now drowning in paper), the wonderful mentor/supervisor/co-worker, the familiar content thanks to my exposure to HVAC through Richard, and the respect for my range of skills and experience. It's just about perfect. Thanks to everyone who's been so supportive. I'll keep you posted.

Lewis Carroll definitely said it best: "'O frabjous day! Callooh! Callay!' [She] chortled in [her] joy." Hah, a 9 hour work day and past midnight and I can still recite the whole poem from memory. Go, me!