23: The Myth of Time

I was notified early yesterday morning that I did not end up getting that job. I'm okay with that, certainly at peace with it -- I had mixed feelings to begin with but had gotten very excited at the opportunity to rejoin my former business in that role. The only thing I'm salty about is how long it took them to notify me, but perhaps that means I was in the running and they wanted to make sure they had their #1 locked down before cutting me loose. That's flattering if true. They told me in a generic form email that they simply had another candidate who was a better match, which is what they always say, and who knows if that's the full story, nobody's going to question it. There's disappointment in that it would have been nice to get something, nice to have that status, nice to know where the next few years of my life are going to be spent, but I can't be mad about the situation. I didn't even think I'd be a serious candidate.

So it goes. I'm back on the hunt, not that anybody told me to get off the hunt, I just kind of throttled back while this was in play and focused on personal stuff. It's more a lack of enthusiasm for anything I'm seeing.

That's got me thinking, as the title of this post suggests, about time. Specifically the feeling of having so much of it yet never enough. For instance this morning disappeared as Mel asked to try the new scrambled egg croissant from Tim Hortons, and that took a while to go get, and then when I got home we discovered it had been made wrong (with sausage instead of bacon, and gosh that maple butter is not so appetizing) so back I went to get it re-made. Just little tasks that chip away at what at first seems to be an abundance of time.

I've been doing okay with some of my goals. Lots of clandestine writing. X-Cerpts continues apace. There's no question that the leisure portion of my time is well accorded. Kitchen is still a constant mess. Basement, don't ask. Front of the house... I'm starting to see a pattern. I talk about this all the time, but here I am talking more about it rather than doing it.

I'm not glum, but I am very reflective. I had indicated that if we got to September and I wasn't working, moves would be made, and we're almost at that point. It feels very like fall as the weather has been chillier and breezier, the intense heat of July and early August dropping to September levels of high teens and low twenties abruptly. It doesn't feel like we have transitions anymore, but maybe this is the transition.

I think there are probably more productive things I can do with my time than continue this post. Nothing much of note, other than Hank has been stubborn and weirdly an early riser lately, which I actually don't mind because if I get out of bed and walk him early I have more time to do me in the morning, as long as it doesn't have the knock-on effect of causing me to fall asleep on the couch. That did happen this weekend while we were watching a romcom (Sweet Home Alabama) much to Mel's annoyance. But otherwise, she's trying to get to sleep before 11:30 so it all kind of folds in nearly together. Yesterday we worked out, our session moved from Friday to Wednesday because Rebecca is moving this weekend. After that we decided to take Hank together instead of doing what I'd been doing during the blazing days which was wait for the evening when the heat was slightly less. Hank expressed some stubbornness about our route because he always wants to go up Upper Middle and Mel does not ever, under any circumstances. So there was sort of a stalemate, but eventually we worked through it. Then because so much time had elapsed we decided to order dinner instead of me making it, and from there we had a nice night.

That'll be that. Keep on rockin'

-Scotto

22: Make a Deposit

Mondays, am I right?

Well, given I am still out of work, perhaps I am not right. Perhaps I have forgotten what Mondays are and what time is about. But I do have a wife, and a life, and time keeps on slipping into the future.

Mondays, am I wrong?

The last couple weeks have blurred by, a haze of dog walking, errand-running, cheesy TV, a bit of writing and not enough house cleaning. Last Saturday -- the one after my last post -- we went to see Unc and Sherlie and the Twins. They (the babies) were a bit sick with the sniffles, which Mel said made them all the more cuddly. I played with them a bit and tried to wipe Sophia's nose even though she wouldn't have it. We watched a few movies -- Superman, Happy Gilmour 2, How to Train Your Dragon Live Action -- and had the famous Chinese from the Ethnic grocery. Prior to that, Mel and I stopped over at my dad's to visit the cats.

Monday was my last time doing that, and I finally saw Maya, which was a relief. I had to convince myself she was surely all right and just hiding all the time -- as Dad and Deb had indicated she would -- but I had this eerie feeling since it felt like not enough water and food were being consumed.

Mel was at her office in Oakville a few times last week which resulted in some fairly productive days on projects just for myself and and I finally raked the stairs and swiffered the bathroom. Housework, we just neglect. Maybe when I get another job we'll spring for a maid. Or maybe we'll just have Mel's mom come over on her off days. One is costly but it's hazardous to expose one's mother(-in-law) to the true state of one's house. Right now our kitchen is a pure disaster, but what else is new.

Mel decreed we were to do nothing all weekend and I was happy to oblige. We spent Saturday in the backyard, her knitting, me reading, then her reading and me diddling on my phone. The weather has become more bearable as summer winds down. Some rain, especially at night, cool mornings, moderate days, breezes. Wasps, but that's not technically weather. I made steaks for dinner and finally got them cooked exactly perfect. We used Nonna's tomatoes and a cucumber and onion to make a salad with chickpeas, although Mel pointed out that we only had olive oil, not sunflower like Nonna uses.

Then we settled in and tried to figure out something to watch. Mel had indicated I could go grab another one of my old DVDs after we watched the first two Spider-Mans -- we had watched most of the third but tapped out before bed and never yet came back to it. I brought a random selection and she wound up picking a few she would watch but nothing she felt like for tonight. I showed her my Letterboxd Watchlist and we narrowed it down to either Nightbitch or Here, and selected Here. It was... not great, and I wrote what I think is a pretty spiffy review on Leterboxd to that effect.

The next day, we actually did have something to do, which was Mel getting her hair cut in Oakville, so we went and had a little coffee-and-reading date afterward, which ended up being on a shady bench near the lake which was beautiful and breezy. (Mel's only complaint, she wasn't wearing good shorts for even that little walking.) We got some pains au chocolats from a patisserie nearby too. We came home -- slightly being backed up on the QEW and having to honk at some reckless drivers (Mel: You really needed to lay on it, that was just a little beep-beep. Me: They should really cover that in driver's ed. Mel: Yeah, it comes from street smarts.) Eventually we made it to our exit, after some regrets not getting off earlier as we sometimes do, and resumed our nothing weekend with cheesy reality TV. Then a dinner of "loaded" nachos, a cheesy breezy nothing-happening romance called "The Map That Leads To You" on Amazon (pretty people in an picturesque place with just a smidge of life-threatening illness) and then because she recognized the actor playing the dad, she asked if we could watch Sweet Home Alabama, which I fell asleep during, much to her irritation.

By the time the movie was over and Mel was ready to head up to bed, it seemed to be raining quite heavily which means Hank wouldn't go out, so I waited up with him until he was ready and we had a nice little walk.

Now it's today, and today could be anything, and so could this week. I'm aiming to get back to applying for jobs. It wasn't that I meant to take a month off, but we were on vacation and I had that interview and then I just thought I'd wait a bit. Now I've checked in twice without hearing anything so even if they come back and offer it to me I'd still like to have other possibilities.

And writing, which I'm getting a bit more enthused over.

Keep on rockin

-Scotto

21: Everybody Pays!!

It rained last night, leading to a comparatively cool morning, a temporary reprieve from the oppressive 33-degree heat we've been experiencing. Ideal dog-walking conditions. 

This is a week of good vibes. Last week there was a bit more static, difficulty getting into gear. The peak of this was when I made pierogis for dinner and they somehow came out undercooked. Mel suggested she would still eat hers if I re-boiled them and they came out good, but it was late and I wasn't in a mood to try my luck so I just said let's order chicken sandwiches from Burgertone. This was part of a theme going back earlier in the week, when we had wanted some prime rib dinners from Fortino's on Monday, but they closed early for the holiday, so we "settled" for blackened chicken on naan from Turtle Jack's, after Mel awoke from a long nap that led to a late dinner. She was mad at me for not answering her when she called out to me, but I had to point out that that was in her dream and here in what I believe to be the waking world, she was silent. She eventually forgave me, I think. And we did eventually have our prime rib dinner later in the week -- which made us sheepish about having to order the next day due to my pierogi failure.

We reversed the curse the next day, but not without a stumble. Saturday we had tickets to see Back to the Future: The Musical, based on "our" favourite movie. It was very exciting, the effects were great (give or take one technical error that briefly paused the show, which we also experienced years ago when we saw Charlie and the Chocolate Factory.) The performances were a bit broad, so I had to adjust my head, as well as some of the rewrites and reinterpretations.

It was an afternoon show so we had originally hoped to book a dinner afterward and use Mel's Oliver & Bonacini gift card that she got from work, but we put off making the booking too long and couldn't get one, so we just stopped for a "cheeky coffee" at the game cafe next door. Mel had a mocha, I tried an orange americano (and now, having tried it, I never need to have one again,) and we split a chocolate bubble waffle, which was great. We rode home tired and somewhat cranky but had to rally. In lieu of our dinner out I had planned to return to making what was briefly my signature dish, salmon and pasta. I had to focus because after all that had gone on that week, I did not want to overcook (or undercook) the salmon. It ended up right on, or maybe just a few seconds under which is fine, it was like butter. I thought about trying a crispy skin, but now was not the time to be experimenting.

We watched, of all things, Spider-Man (2002), because on our drive home we heard that Chad Kroeger song on the radio for the first time since back then. I did doze off briefly in the middle, which I did not reflect in my eventual 3 3/4 star review on Letterboxd (which my former co-worker liked.) We watched the first half of the second one the next night but have not yet returned to it.

Sunday, Mel had "big plans" to clean the bedroom. I was all for it but she had also been wanting to go to the walk-in to check on some ear irritation she'd been experiencing (her GP is OOO for a month.) After a trailer-like breakfast of "dippy" eggs and pan-fried bacon (I usually do it in the microwave to save on dishes) we got kind of a late start. We called ahead for the wait times and were advised to wait until the next morning. OK. I also had to make time to go to to dad's to feed the cats, so we made a deal that Mel would start doing what she needed to do in the bedroom and I would go do my thing, and it worked out. I had taken some steaks out for dinner, but needed to pick up some potatoes, mushrooms, and other sundries to make it a meal. We also broke out the chimichurri that we'd bought at the dog event last fall and only used a few times, to good effect. When we got home I pitched in with the cleaning. It was a nice evening.

Monday we finally did go to the walk-in, which meant trying to walk Hank early (and putting the recycling, garbage and compost out the night before so as to not worry over it) although we didn't get out the door until 9 AM. Ultimately, it wasn't that long of a wait or too onerous of an appointment. The day proceeded, and we probably waited too long to get her prescription for eardrops filled because it delayed dinner a bit, but that ended up being nachos at 8. I also treated us to some quenchers from Tim's while I was over there.

Yesterday was another day of going over to dad's, followed by another trip to the grocery to pick up sandwich materials for lunch and dinner materials for ribs and corn (an orthodontist's nightmare but Mel came out of it okay with her new gear.) We tried to eat dinner outside -- Mel has a goal to eat more often without a phone or TV -- but the wasps were pretty prevalent so we went in and ate at the table like some kind of fancy millionaires. It was a nice evening, after which we read. Mel read a lot and I read a little then diddled on my phone and walked Hank.

These are all mundane things but it really feels good. Like we're in the pocket, so to speak. The weather for today has me refreshed despite the landscapers being here with their gas blowers. Hank was sleeping in just the right spot between us at the foot on the bed, not curled over to my side. It's simple, but I think this blog deserves a bit of that energy.

There was one thing that threatened to ruin our good time last night, which is that while I was cooking, Mel randomly noted that something smelled bad. I realized that I had opened the cabinet with the potatoes to search for something, and contrary to popular belief potatoes are not immortal. After leaving them with the thermostat set slightly up while we were gone there was some rather nasty spoilage in there that I had inadvertently fanned all over the kitchen and wafted into the living room. I hastily removed the potatoes but they had soaked through the paper bag in which they were held (!!) and splatted (!!!) on the floor, resulting in me having to do a rushed mop job in there (not that it wasn't due) and tossing the compost immediately. Mel took it in stride as she left the fallout zone for upstairs and was thankful when I brought a mask for her to use when it was time to go back down. It didn't smell too bad when we ended up having to move inside, and we lit a candle for good measure.  

Oh, and I haven't heard back about that job one way or the other. They actually reached out to me last week for references, which I provided (and let people know to expect them) which seems to be a good sign, but now it's been over a week of silence. Mentally, I think I'm prepared for either outcome. If I don't get this job it's no big deal, and if I do, it will be interesting and a welcome new direction in life. I think there's a really good chance and I've thought a lot about what it'd be like to have it. Selfishly and shallowly, I think it would really feel good to advance to that level, because I always had some bitterness and some sour grapes about the way other people moved through Indigo. There are some where it was so obvious I could only be like "Well, you're killing it, clearly you're meant for this" and somewhere where I was more like a crab in the bucket, "Hey you, get back down here with me where you belong."

Anyway, that's not necessarily a healthy way to think of it but I also suspect it's part of what fuels the capitalist system, trying to keep pace with, or outpace, your peers. That rotten feeling. Well, that somewhat taints my excitements, but there are positive aspects as well. Feeling more passionate, more connected to the books, and using the skills and temperament I've honed over the years in my last job. But yeah, there's a lot of "I'll show them" in there too. Why can't there be room for both?  

Keep on rockin'

-Scotto

20: We didn't talk about what we talked about

As always at the trailer, my mind goes back to the past. Mind you, we've been up enough as adults that that past could very well be the recent past, but in this case seeing the visage of Queen Amidala on a Coke display threw me back to the summer of 99 when it was Pepsi linking up with Lucasfilm to promote Star Wars Episode 1 the Phantom Menace. I remember it vividly because I spent a lot of that summer at my cousin's place pumping a seemingly endless supply of quarters into the pop machines outside the local supermarket to get Dr. Peppers emblazoned with Darth Maul, Jar Jar, Anakin or Sebulba (??) Or maybe it was Watto. Any of those forgettable guys who weren't even immortalized in Weird Al's song, by far the main legacy of that film since he still performs it today, long after people would largely have forgotten the plot details.

Time passes strangely at the trailer. I will admit to being a little antsy because we are set to go home today, and from there to an afternoon BBQ at Mel's parents. Mel sleeps late, as is her right. It's almost noon which means that she'll be up soon, then I'll make breakfast (alas there is no more iced coffee for her) and then it will be a lot of cleaning before we go. What has me antsy is that I don't foresee us leaving before 2, but Mel still wants to stop off at home rather than go right to her parents' place. Not that we are on a right schedule, I am just very aware of how much time that will take. Get home, unload a bunch of stuff messily, then get back in the car? Well, the alternative is to get home late after having been out and not feel like unloading anything at all. Que sera.

A lot of these days have this weird morning because after walking Hank I've been to town, which takes a while to get to, do enough to make the trip worthwhile, and come back. Once we decided we were staying an extra day (a rare occasion where I feel good spending more time at the trailer rather than angling to go home early) there were groceries to get, both an extra dinner and stuff to resupply what we used of their pantry (not much but I did spring for some paper towels, water and a $3 thing of Dawn.)

We got those Marc Angelo chicken souvlaki skewers, which I normally stay away from due to expense, high sodium, and fear of undercooking chicken on the bbq. I possibly overcorrected. I also got some ice cream treats and more smores supplies as we used up our whole box.

The last few days have been cool, peaking in the low 20s around 3-5 PM, so while we went to the pool a few times it was just okay, especially with the family pool still closed. We took Hank to the beach one day and to the bark park where we had a picnic of sorts, then back to the beach the next day  where we took turns wading in the water while the other watched Hank. There I helped some kids load their kayak onto a set of wheels for transport.

As I said, time passes weirdly. Huge chunks of time getting ready to do something, doing it, and resting after. Lots of reading and some phone time. Because breakfast is so late we mostly don't eat lunch, but we had all the materials anyway. We brought a ton of other things to do like cards, Farkle, even a puzzle (over my reticence) but none of it has really been necessary when Mel can knit and I can sit and listen to the wind and we built one good fire (from a fireplace log) and one okay one (using some kindling we brought and some of Lori and Gail's, perhaps more than I was comfortable with.) We watched movies on Netflix that were... eh. Red Eye, which was not as good as I remember, and To Catch a Killer, which features Shalaine Woodley as a cop with a problem. No buys.

Hank has found several places he enjoys sitting, lying in the sun or shade as he pleases. He made some

I wanted to write this post because so many of my historical trailer posts -- and I've re-read d.

*---------*

Boy, that was weird, huh? Anyway, it's the next day now, August 3.

As I was saying before Mel woke up and we got on with our day, in all my old posts I tend to focus on the events surrounding trips to the trailer -- the trials and tribulations of getting there and being there -- and rarely emphasize how it's really quite nice to just sit and be away. Now, I know what you're thinking, "Scotto, you're unemployed, every day is vacation for you," but you know something, it was good to just sit and read and feel the breeze and the warmth of the sun and have unstructured time, because even at home I am working on something or taking care of something, or avoiding doing so.

For those curious, my stinger eventually wore off and I mostly had no issues the last few days of the trip, although I did and still do have a cramp in my left hand around my thumb.

Mel got up and we had our breakfast -- I used up our last good egg (there was one more that had cracked in the container, alas I'm usually good at sensing stuff like that) -- when I accidentally overcooked the "dippy" eggs Mel had requested, but I was able to rustle up sufficient dippiness in the end. Toast, bacon, hash brown, you're good. Prior to that, we talked about how to proceed with the day. It was about quarter after twelve at this time and I expressed my concern that we weren't going to get away until about 3. Mel balked, you think it's going to take 3 hours to clean up? I said no, it'll take an hour to do breakfast and then two hours to clean up and pack. This proved prescient. There were a lot of dishes to do -- I don't even stay on top of dishes at home, how am I supposed to do them on vacation? -- and all of our belongings were scattered around. So I had Mel packing and tidying and watering the flowers as Lori had asked us to do, while I focused on the kitchen and only intermittently got drafted by Mel to help with this or that. And also there's Hank meandering around and not making it easy, such as curling up on the bed we are trying to strip and remake. Oh well.

In the end, after triple-checking for all of our belongings (nearly forgetting our dog treat pouch, my sunglasses and a pair of Mel's socks) fixing the sunroom door back to where it was when we arrived, re-covering the paddle boat we had used the day before (which was fun but almost not worth the effort) turning off the gas, pilot light, water and AC, and making a preliminary run to the garbage, we only started to roll away from the trailer at 3:45, the sound of my grab bag playlist blaring from our open windows, featuring Madonna, CAKE ("I don't know this song," she said neutrally about "Let Me Go",) Springsteen, the Hip, Spice Girls, Dexys Midnight Runners, Bowling for Soup, and who even remembers what else.

With such a late departure, there was no way we were going to go home and then to Mel's parents, it simply made no sense. But we caught a few tough breaks out of the park, with a traffic bottleneck through Arthur due to a guy on a relatively slow-moving trike ("only" 90 Kmph) and then road construction coming out of Arthur that saw the speed limit reduced to 50 and an ad hoc stoplight where the road was reduced to one lane.

Eventually we got rolling but found ourselves in a tight squeeze again due to construction between Stewarttown and home. We ran afoul of a semi truck that did not like when we changed lanes in front of him to get around a Pierre P. supporter who was moving slow, and then I had to let him in to get around an even slower-moving truck. When the dust settled we were able to move past. Ultimately, I would agree with Mel's conviction that the drive home to Burlington via Fergus is a lot more pleasant, even notwithstanding my childhood nostalgia for the Hillsburgh route. Driving up to Oakville and seeing all these mid-rises is really trippy for me, also. Had we had presence of mind, and not been behind that trike, there might have been a way to go through Fergus anyway (at the very least we could get on the 401 for a bit.)

It was a nice night. Of course there was tons of baby fuss, they're starting to teethe. They're getting lots of personality. We spent time in the backyard but hastily finished dinner when the wasps came in. I talked to Papa H and Unc about the job search and my interview, Unc is always interested but he and I differ in that he's a big RTO proponent, feeling like people slacked off too much when WFH was the way. I can only speak for myself, although also pretty much everyone else I've worked with. We also talked about how Mel's parents came over to look after our garden, and while I offered to leave a spare key, they said they didn't need, and regretted doing so. We're gonna make them a spare key soon, I think. 

We didn't stay much later than they did; we couldn't take Nonna home because our car was loaded so we left around the time it was time for her to go, came home, had a snack and watched Masterchef. Mel went to bed and I walked Hank and stayed up/passed out on the couch, then decided to sleep in the spare room because I couldn't settle in. (There's a whole thing with the mattress cover and fitted sheet, and also Hank's location.)

So that about does it. We have the whole rest of the long weekend to chill, and then for the next couple of weeks I've got to go over to dad's place every other day to look after the cats. We thought about whether it would make sense for us to board them, but three cats for two weeks is a tall order. I also asked whether he had considered asking Brandon, and there were some sensible reasons why not. Interestingly, Mel did not object to me agreeing to do this the way she often frowns on my helping mom with various things.

Anyway, it's August now, on the back 9 of summer, and I'm feeling good because even though it feels like I just left work it's also been a very full and active few months, and aside from having a show to go to there's not much on the agenda. So that's pretty rad. We'll see what happens with this job opportunity, if I end up employed or what.

Keep on rockin'

-Scotto