1:27 AM: Will we remain?

You ever have a day when you simply couldn't bring yourself to work?

Well of course, who hasn't. For the most part, most of us are able to quiet the little voice inside of us that says "This is not what you're supposed to be doing right now," and focus on the thing that brings money to put food on the table, and be satisfied with however many weekends or days off or vacations we are allotted by the capricious forces of capitalism. But every so often there's a day, a Ferris Bueller day, not where you take off, but where you simply cannot do what's in front of you.

Can't just be me, right?

Surely I don't mean today, of course, but if I did, I would possibly potentially have spent the day futzing about on Twitter jawing about comics rather than doing my pushes and my forecasting and whatnot. I did do all those things, all the things that needed to be done -- reports, queries, all of it. And I sat through the usual Monday meetings.

And if I did spent a huge portion of the day slacking, it wasn't out of spite. I mean that. Sometimes your brain just has other things in mind and it's good to let the elephants run. I have kind of a weird energy right now and I kind of think I'm well overdue for my vacation next week.

The weekend came, the weekend went. Saturday we went to see Mel's parents for dinner. We brought the pie, the one that has been taking up real estate in our fridge since Thanksgiving. Mel said it was a little freezerburnt but I thought it was good. We saw Nonna, we played cards, Mama H and I almost pulled out another last-minute victory but there was some controversy over the cards that were dealt that, well, let's just say we accept the outcome.

Sunday, Mel wasn't feeling so great so I let her be by herself as long as she wanted. I went out to Canadian Tire and got some needed items, and impulsively, a ringlight for my desk. Now, I know what you're thinking, clearly I'm meant to be an influencer. But honestly, it was cheaper and cooler than a desk lamp. I'm extremely happy with my purchase. I also bought felt feet to put on our new kitchen chairs, so we finally have those swapped out. It was a big weekend. Also it snowed. Also also, I brought home Starbucks.

There's not a lot else to report, but it's late and I'm up alone and I just felt like now might be a nice time for some idle musings. But I don't think this is what I want to spend a lot more of my energy on for now. Ta.

Keep on rockin'

-Scotto

1:07 AM: Held Gaze

It's after midnight and I'm up to my old tricks... or maybe the tricks are up to me. I should be tired, but I'm pretty wound up. I had a snooze but found myself waking up and fussing. I read some. My brain wants to do things, probably after being cooped up at the office all day. It really wants to write. All I can give it is this.

It was a weekend of being busy not being busy. Mel wanted to treat us to breakfast out on Saturday to celebrate her new job, and who was I to say no? So we went and we enjoyed ourselves, getting the dishes we wanted and a waffle to split. Then we went to the library to get cards, as Mel was hoping to have a chance to listen to the audiobook of Spare (the Prince Harry book of course) but sadly it's as long of a wait as with her Toronto card. She napped and I write, motivated by frustration with certain things in my life to finish something that other people might never see but was important to me to try.

Sunday, Mel watched her crystal show while I cleared off my old desk and assembled my new one. I wasn't necessarily expecting it to be an all-day thing but it took quite a while to clear off, clean, move and assemble. I'm very happy with it in the end, although there's still a dreadful mess piled on our dining table. We had nachos for dinner. I went grocery shopping solely to buy things for that, as she admonished me not to buy anything we hadn't already planned for... and then wished I had bought something for dessert. Alas!

Monday was Monday. Today I got up at 6:15 -- after a somewhat fitful but still restful sleep -- and got out the door for 7 so that I could make it to the office for 8:30. It was a fine day at the office. There were plenty of people there, I had some in-person meetings that ended up being more fun than if they had been calls. There was the big town hall that is always the ostensible reason for people to come. I had a one-on-one lunch with one of the other IAs. We all left around 4 -- a little after because I was late in running my replen -- to grab drinks, which I didn't tell Mel about because I left a little after 5 to catch the train, which ended up being the 6:15. I picked up Boston Pizza on the way home, then we settled in and watched a few episodes of Partner Track. A full day, a busy day, a tiring day, but I guess not tiring enough. They want us to come on more often, Maria basically settling for 1 day per week, out of Tue, Wed and Thurs. Whatever you say. Mel of course doesn't love this, but she has a visit to Toronto planned for next week so I'm going along.

Some stuff happened the week before that got me in a right tizzy. I went to bed mad about it almost every night for a week and even now get tense thinking about it. It has long term implications. It's not anything that shocked me except in how blunt it was and how I just didn't have the energy to put up any kind of front about it. You know, we all have our breaking points. I wrote about it, but didn't post. Eventually, the statute of limitations will run out and I'll say OK and let it go up the site and you will see some vitriol, but I don't feel good about it right now, too raw, too personal, too real. It's a side of me this blog only hints at, although if you leaf back, you can see it building over the year.

Obviously, work has been busy. For the most part I'm killing it but I'm also a little buried, with tons of little tasks piling up while I focus on my big ones. 2 or 3 major things command my attention right now, and beyond that I have little mental real estate to give anyone else. So be it. There was a little error that I noticed at the beginning of the day, but was told nothing could be done about, so I addressed it as best I could. Then Phil found out independently an asked me about it as I was leaving so I took another stab and got some results. It is what it is.

2018 me would have died inside to have to face that kind of challenge.

Today I am zen.

Partially, it could be that I did my writing on the weekend. Of course, I do writing every weekend but this was something else. This was my way of writing my way out. Now, that never works, or at least it never has yet, but it feels good and right to try again, in a way I simply haven't in a long while. I think my brain is craving more of that but there isn't more to give, not at 12:15 on a Tuesday night. I could stand to stay serious about this and go further.

I've been listening to a lot of The Who -- especially "A Quick One, While He's Away" -- and a lot of Bowie, during my stressful times. Hey, why not?

It's weird times, man. This blog ain't the half of it. It feels like I should say more but I'd really just be chasing my tail. I can't (oughtn't) complain. Some things are right, some things are not right, and some things are not the way we want them to be.

I don't know that this has relaxed me any. It may have gotten me more keyed up. I think being busy at work has really fed my desire to do things that are not work, although I also tend to get up to mischief when I am not busy at work, so maybe I am just a little gremlin.

Hm.

I'm stalling.

Keep on rockin'

-Scotto

12:43 AM: Say it ain't

Do you ever fixate?

What am I saying, of course you do. Everyone does, for starters, but more than that, you're very likely me. I think this blog has taken on a very interesting character since I've nakedly embraced the idea that, while it is publicly accessible (a baffling status in 2023) its only regular reader, hopefully only reader overall, is my own future self, looking to reset his brain, weeks or months or years after the fact. Journaling on pen and paper, where it gets shut between covers buried and forgotten, just doesn't do it for me, you know? Doesn't feel real.

So fixation. Yeah, who doesn't get seized by thoughts they just can't shake from time to time, right? It's after midnight and I was lying up in bed, listening to rain sounds and trying to lull myself to sleep by counting X-Men or Aerosmith songs, and I had thoughts that would not go away. Toxic, keep-you-up-at-night thoughts. So now I'm down here typing, my desk light on, listening to R.E.M.'s Up album, my #1 late night album (I did think about listening to XX by the xx though,) ready to spill. And then when my spleen is empty for the night, perhaps I can calm my nerves and rest.

I'm not going to tell you what it is though, I feel like that would give it too much weight and power. I'll have to talk around it. There might be a lot anyway, but scant on details.

I had a conversation earlier this week with a higher-up at the company that sort of changed my thinking about where I'm going. Or should I say, put a bow on things I had already been thinking. It turned some slight negative thoughts I was having into much more severe ones, which in its way is somewhat freeing, because I went from feeling conflicted about something to being quite sure about it, and sureness is a good thing to have, something I don't often have.

Basically, the work I do is not really noticed or appreciated -- not by the people who need to be impressed by me to help me get where I thought I wanted to go. I can be charming, I can present well, I can provide my strong point of view and clear ideas about what I would do in certain situations, but there seems to be this air of "Yeah, but what have you done?" that I can't dispel. Which is bogus for a variety of reasons. I'm at the end of a very storied year in my job. I began it by providing a thoroughly researched and well-analyzed deck of data to the marketing department to use in boosting our profile. In the summer I worked without a direct buying partner for an extended period of time and even took on reporting duties that they would have done, stepping well outside my stated role. I managed relationships with external vendors, in some cases being the loudest voice for my company's needs from our partnership. In November I managed inventory, very successfully, for one of the largest books we'd ever bought, and this very week I'm managing the inventory for the largest book we've ever bought, again very successfully. And it's no secret. 

And the takeaway? "Oh, we just don't know what to think about you."

Motherfucker.

I've cycled through all sorts of different emotions about this. Hurt, indignant, outraged, attempting to understand. Honestly, when I heard this, I guess I just got to a breaking point where I figured there's no point in holding back, so I vomited all my thoughts about that: that first of all, that has nothing to do with whether I'm a good candidate for a job, and secondly, it's not true, and if it is, it's not my problem. I have done everything, I would say 110%-125% of my job for much of the year, in a lot of different capacities, and not secretly, but it has fallen out of the brains of the people who need to see it and in many cases were in the room. That's not my problem, that's a management problem, a culture problem that I happen to be the victim of. It's not my responsibility to grab the rope and right the ship, I am trying to do my job and excel, and if you see it or don't, it doesn't matter, because you should hear me in the interview and draw your conclusions from that.

It's been five years. If you don't know me by now, you will never, ever, ever know me.

The gall, you know? The brass testes to say such a thing, and then double down: "Why are we having this problem? There's something around that." There is, but you're missing it.

It's not about missing out on a job. If you tell me there is someone whose answers you liked better -- and they did -- I will believe you and respect that. Mind you, the last time they said that it ended up being someone who I was still telling how to do his job -- yes, in fact, the job I was declined for -- six months later. Darn nice guy, but needs help.

The moral of this story is that this company has nothing more for me. I wish it weren't so, and I spent five years trying to get myself ready for the opportunities, but it appears it's simply out of reach for ole Scotto. Because I have done it. I have done the things, I have done all that they can reasonably ask of me and shined in all the corners I can, and it's come to this. Not just "Not yet," not just "Not this time," but "Not until we get more."

Fuck it, fuck this company. At one point the other party was saying -- as diplomatically as he could, "You know, if you think you deserve more just for being above average--" "No," I cut him off, "Not 'above average.' Top of the class." (Woah, even I'm surprised to meet this Scotto.) This is not about what I'm entitled to materially (although I am grossly under-compensated) it's about recognition, its value, and its presence. You want me to great, I'm great. You want to see the greatness, you have to look. 

And if they won't look... well, horses and water.

They have nothing to offer me, they have made it clear. They have no space for me, only a bland, insufficient paycheck. I will continue to do my job to the best of my ability, even at that 110% rate that I offer, while I look for a better, more fulfilling direction in which to take my talents. I have never felt so motivated as I do this week, and my only problem is that my brain can't be satisfied with this determination. I have to keep imagining conversations and gotchas and all the gaga. The revenge fantasies. Oh, you know them all to well, don't you?

So many of the best and worst decisions you've made in your life boiled down to three words: "I'll show them."

I don't know if I have greatness in me, but I know I have more than what I am doing today, and I thought that this company might be a nice place to deploy it. They've been good to me and I liked the work, believe in it all. But this is the kind of feedback that really opens your eyes.

I have a lot of anger and frustration. You know, hearing something like that really hits a sore spot. That invisibility, that "you don't matter" ness, that "you're nothing to anybody" insecurity that has plagued me since I was in the sixth fucking grade. Funny that, since I just happen to be writing my memoir project (oh god, that sounds so pukey when I say it.)

Oy, yoy, yoy. This is dangerous.

The weird thing is, although it was definitely emotionally charged, it was relatively diplomatic, and I definitely course-corrected myself back to proper behavior once or twice after flying off the handle. Although he resisted much of what I was saying, he seemed unable to completely deflect. When he asked, "Well, when I had this problem, why did I go to [director] and not you?" Well, why did you? It's not as though I'm not in your inbox several times per day with an e-mail that ends, "If you have any problems, feel free to reach out." This is where we're at. You can take control of something and own it, and they will still have no idea who you are or what you are doing in their e-mails. Oof, getting mad again. For half a sec, he seemed to recognize, I saw in his eyes, it was not a Scott problem. He seemed amenable to the idea of follow-up conversations (when heads, presumably, have cooled, but who knows how long that will take me? Ah, but I'm my father's son.) 

Anyway. It's freeing. That's the final stage of this cycle of emotion, after hurt and anger and frustration and revenge (can revenge be an emotion?) Feeling free. Earth below us, drifting falling, floating weightless, coming home. Financially, I don't know that I can give up the job, but if I stop killing myself trying to care about my future there, I can retake the mental real estate to build the future I want, which is a nice thought, a piece of the puzzle that was missing. Do your worst, you can't kill me, I'm already dead.

Well, this was a hell of an adventure. Once I sensed it was ramping up whether I wanted to or not, I decided I would just go for it and leave this one in the drafts. I'll unseal the records someday, years from now, when we're far enough away from it all. It kind of feels good to put into words, that was what I needed. I mean, I might still fixate when I get back up to work, that remains to be seen, but hopefully I feel better having screamed, don't you?

Keep on rockin'

Mad man Scotto

(Future Scotto says: I have un-sealed the records on April 15 2023. Not for any significant reason, I just feel like we're far enough past it that I no longer need to obscure this. It happened, nothing major has come from it........ yet.)

12:23 AM: We are so far

In my last post, one thing I neglected to mention was my "crazy day," which was a simple outing that became complicated in the weirdest ways. I ended up going back and forth between the Freshco and the Shoppers across the street from each other like three times. I had to pick up some groceries at Freshco, then go to Shoppers to pick up some mail and a prescription, but I had forgotten the postal slip for the delivery, so I had to go home. Then when I got to Shoppers, I saw the pop I had bought was significantly cheaper there, so I had to go back and return the case to Freshco, while I waited 15 minutes for the prescription to be filled (at a higher quantity than had originally been called in.) Then as I was leaving Freshco again (this time with some garlic bread) I ran into this guy who was waiting for me because he had dinged the car and wanted to exchange information. I really respect that, but this outing was going way, way long. Then on my way out of Shoppers the second time, I bought some charity chocolate almonds, because hey, who doesn't love those?

Listening to the radio on the (two minute) drive home, the DJ was talking about how he used to work weddings at the venue where Mel and I got married, which was a fun coincidence.

Anyway, it was weird at the time, but I guess it doesn't make the most scintillating anecdote.

I've had reason to think lately about how I'm doing and feeling better these days than I have at seemingly any point in my life. Up until about a year or two ago, there was always this weight on my shoulders, my entire life, but I'm becoming aware that it's mostly eased off. My problems these days aren't anything I can't handle, and that positions me to be there for someone I love who needs me, and I hope I live up to that. That's some positivity right there, a serious change of pace for this blog. This is purely about me personally and my emotional state when not exacerbated by outside circumstances. My resting state. I will still say we went through it this winter and are still recovering, but things will settle soon, I hope, and we'll figure out our next step.

We had a plumber in the other day to look at our drain, which has been leaking since we moved in. It hasn't been a serious problem, it's mostly that the overflow drain leaks and floods the basement, so we don't use the tub and things are mostly fine. Except it's sad because Mel loves a bath. Anyway, we noticed it was leaking into the kitchen around New Years, so we decided it was becoming urgent. The guy patched some things and I told Mel to have a bath to see if it held. It didn't -- although the kitchen did not leak, only the basement. So I as in talks to get the guy back, but I realized, we want a bigger tub and a re-done bathroom anyway, so, we should get that sorted out all together. Who knows when that will happen but it's next on the list.

Adult problem things.

I've been in a manic phase lately, coming up with more and more projects and ideas for myself. Not just pervy stuff nobody gets to see, either, but maybe not all my ticket to fame and fortune. Obviously the X-Men blog is still on top, and I intend to continue working on getting that made into a book. I've tinkered with writing a mini-memoir about my teen years, partly just because I came up with an amusing title (Teenage Millennial Psycho Nerd.) I also had an idea for a comic that would emphatically not be for sale, partly because it involves a character to whom I do not hold the rights.

And then of course there is the pervy stuff, which is sort of churning in the background. I've written a few stories and have ideas for more, I'm focusing on shorter ones that I can bundle together. It's a lot easier to write three 10K-word stories than one 30K story, don't ask me why. But I'm not hinging my self-esteem on success or progress in that arena as much for 2023 as I did in 2022 (when I kind of wiped out a few times.)

I feel good, and I want you to know that. Too much on here I'm a sad sack, an anxiety case, and I know that's a huge part of who and what I am but when things are good I can at least recognize them and am gaining a strange sense of optimism about my life. Even if this new job doesn't materialize -- which I'm not sold is right for me but we will see if and when they decide I should take it -- I have energy and light.

So I just wanted to check in on all of that.

Beyond that, it's been a busy back to work time. We went to Nonna's on New Year's day, then saw David and Annie out in Vaughn on the 2nd. They were very glad to have some adult company since it's just them out there with little Aubrey. It was a long trip but worth it. We had Japanese BBQ and then went back to their place for some games, including a board game version of D&D, Baldur's Gate. They enjoyed the books we got for Bree, and I feel like we all connected a little bit.

You know, I don't crave social interaction, but I do enjoy it.

Tout va bien.

Keep on rockin'

-Scotto

Midnight: The Pull and the Push

It's 9 AM on New Year's Day. I'm up and I'm thinking there are so many things I could be doing right now. I have a few things on the go. I even started a second nonfiction book, this one a half-serious attempt to do a memoir about my teen years, just because I came up with a title that amused me. I somehow managed to write 5,000 words yesterday on a new story (which will probably reach 10K but I've been known to misjudge scale before, often in a good way) and while my instinct is often to ride that wave, I might take a minute to breathe on it for a sec. I have a few other stories behind it in the queue as well, and lots of ideas on the go. 2023 might be a busy one, or it might be a year of failed promises again, who knows? That's the fun part. Then there's X-Cerpts, which I could be working on on any given free morning, but I'm a little ahead already thanks to the holidays and my December update schedule, and I don't really prefer to be more than a few posts ahead on it. We're coming to the very end of the Claremont run, which is shocking to believe. March 2023 will mark the beginning of year 7 doing this project, and while the popularity has ebbed and flowed -- it seemed to peak in summer 2021 for whatever reason -- I still get a lot of notice and interaction, which is nice. We'll see what "the 90s" brings.

But after all that, I thought, let's kick the year off with a post. 

The last few weeks have been, of course, Customary Christmas Craziness. I ended up having to do a lot of last-minute running around to get some of our last preparations in place for Christmas, which ended up taking place on the 23rd, which was the same day as a slushy storm. What I thought was going to be a relatively quick run ended up taking several hours across three distant points in town. I hadn't managed to get my gift for family Secret Santa (a coffee grinder and flavoured beans.) Oddly enough as it turned out, the person I got also got me, but they got me something I already had -- which was a nice thought, but you know, we already had it, so now we need to go through the indignity of trying to return it.

I actually got all my wrapping done early on Christmas Eve, giving my morning over to it and ending the decades-plus streak of staying up until midnight wrapping, which is good. Mel was surprised when she found out that my family never wrapped stocking gifts, we just... you know, put them in stockings. I wondered how surprised she'd be when she learned we didn't even have to wait for others to be up before digging into our stockings.

Christmas Eve, we went to Dad's for Chinese after stopping by Nonna's to say hi (and share a biccarere -- what they call a shot before a gathering although I can't find it in any translation. I'll have to ask.) Dinner with dad and the guys was fine, but Mel felt she should have gone back for more of the Chinese food. There was plenty, I'm sure. We like the place they order from because they do those really small chicken balls rather than the big bready ones. Eric had some news about his job, he's finally agreed to move up a bit since they came to terms with him on pay. Which is good, I'm glad he held out and knew his worth (I mean literally, he can't afford to make less money and it's not like there's a lot of glamour in being a shift supervisor.) E and B would be back the next day for the traditional lunch, and then Dad and Deb were headed out to California on the 26th to see James.

After we left, Mel asked if we could watch Top Gun Maverick. I agreed, since we had won a three month sub to Paramount+ and she had seen it was on there, so there was no harm in it, but it was funny because guess what two-movie blu-ray I had gotten her for Christmas so that we didn't have to go hunting around streaming services for her new favourite movie! Ah well, no harm.

We watched half of it then went to bed. We had the chillest Christmas morning we've ever had -- that anyone's probably ever had -- given Mel slept very late indeed and I just kind of puttered around with not much to do. I just had to write my card to her -- she had wanted to exchange cards the day before but I, in a fit of dumbassery, had forgotten about that. It worked out well, she loved what I wrote (it was much on the same theme as what she wrote, but with more words.)

We went to Mom's for dinner, which was nice, a good meal, a good visit with Dex, and the guys again, then finished our movie. Mom had asked us not to bring them any gifts (I guess she's decided she's done receiving random tchotchkes and scarves) our gift to her could be bringing our own drinks. The weird story behind that is that back at Thanksgiving, they were hosting Ross' family, and when mom asked what they liked to drink, Ross said Corona. Come Thanksgiving, they drank everything but, so they were left with a ton of Corona. So they didn't want to have to buy any more beer until the Corona was gone, but they're really more wine drinkers. Now you may be thinking, "Why not just tell us that they only thing they had to drink is Corona?" I mean, it's not my fave but I've been known to drink it. And the answer is... my family is weirdos. Anyway, Brandon ended up taking all the Corona home, because hey, free beer.

Day after that we went to Mel's fam to open more gifts and see Jake. A nice night. We then had a pajama day, followed by a visit with Unc and Sherlie, during which we played a game and then finally watched Weird: The Al Yankovic story. Mostly we've been watching reality shows on Netflix, although I also convinced Mel to start a LOST rewatch for when we have nothing else to watch.

Beyond that, it's been lazy, hazy times, which I don't mind. Mel always feels guilt about laziness, but I keep telling her, she only has a week until she starts her new job, then she won't have any time to be lazy. She should give that gift to herself now and appreciate it. If we don't have a free pass to do absolutely nothing in the week between Christmas and New Year's, when do we?

New Year's Eve was the apex, although not without some doing. Our plan was nachos, but Mel also wanted to make some homemade velveeta queso, which added a little bit to the proceedings in terms of prep and execution. I got a little flustered in our little kitchen but they ended up being superb. We had also finally made our gingerbread cookies that night so all the cleaning we had done was already undone. I tell you, we need that extra prep counter somewhere. We also have our eye on a new dishwasher although I'm worried that the downside of fun, chill lazy times is that we don't get around to it and miss the Boxing Week sales. We rang in the new year by watching Flatshare on Paramount (I had thought it was a movie when we put it on?) and set an alarm for midnight to play "Celebration" by Kool and the Gang. We ate shrimp and drank some sparkling non-alcoholic cider. We know how to do it up, right? In bed by 1ish.

Other than that, I mean, it's not bad. I can hardly bicker about the way I spent my week off, and we still have some more to do and people to see today and tomorrow. I also have lots of time I need to be thinking about taking off in the next quarter.

I guess I felt like I had a lot to tell, but it can mostly be summed up as: we were busy, and now we're not, and despite societal pressure claiming otherwise, that's not a bad thing. I'm glad 2022 is done. It was a nice little year until December, but we're through it now and who knows what 2023 will bring. I literally have no idea. Could be anything.

Keep on rockin

-Scotto