Countdown to days off

 

One more week until my "use it or lose it" vacation, and I can hardly wait. Next week is shaping up to be a whirlwind of mandated fun. Monday and Thursday are retirement parties, Tuesday is the floor Christmas party (definitely skipping that one), and Wednesday is a going-away lunch for our acting Chief. I’m planning to telework on Tuesday to avoid the “festive” chaos. Honestly, I hate having to endure an afternoon with my old RE colleagues while pretending I don’t loathe them. To make matters worse, one of the main culprits from the desk-drama days landed the RE Chief job. I hired and trained her, and she was a key player in setting me up. I’m still bitter—let’s just say I hope her future is filled with endless congressionals. But enough about work.

Last night, I went to dance class and felt like I was going to die. I can’t believe there was a time when I took eight classes a week—sometimes two or three a day. I’d love to find that drive again. Back when we were teleworking, I had the energy for it. Now that I’m back in the office, my social meter is constantly maxed out, and the idea of being around more people just exhausts me. I want to want to go, if that makes sense. That said, I did have a blast last night. The teacher strikes the perfect balance between beginner-friendly and engaging, which makes the class fun—even if she did get me Whammed* last night. One day, I might even muster the energy to try the tap class again.

Lately, I’ve been feeling nauseous and fatigued. It could be the new medication, the time of year, or just sheer burnout. This week also marks five years since my dad passed. I have this vivid Christmas memory of him taking charge of the “Santa” gifts. We were older, but he still found so much joy in it. His own childhood Christmases were rough—his dad would sell any gifts he got—so he loved seeing us happy. I need to stop here before I start crying again. Suffice it to say, I’m ready to be out of the office and through the holidays. There’s one guy at work who walks around blasting Christmas music, and I’ve had to ask him more than once to turn it down. I usually pop on a podcast as soon as I get to my desk, but I can still hear his music. I need a break. Also, they’re still decorating the office. God, I miss COVID.

On a more positive note, Dennis had a job interview yesterday. I think he has a good chance—it’s a maintenance position for the county, Monday through Friday, 8 to 5. They even gave him a benefits package booklet, which feels promising. I actually put him in for the job myself because he was getting way too involved in family drama. Of course, he didn’t check his email or answer calls, so I got an email as his backup contact. If he doesn’t get this job, I’ll definitely have a field day the next time he claims he “can’t find work.” Maybe set up your voicemail or answer the phone when someone calls? I’ve told him before: employers don’t go door-to-door recruiting. That said, I do think he’ll get it, and hopefully, he’ll like it. Fingers crossed for a Christmas miracle—having him out of my hair for my two weeks off would be amazing.

This past Saturday, I met up with my mom and Heather for something called Nutcracker Fest, a fundraiser for the Tulsa Ballet. It was their first year hosting it, and it was pretty neat. It was geared more toward kids, but there were booths, an iceless skating rink, and a few other activities for adults. I hope they make it an annual thing—it has real potential. I’d definitely go again. Dennis found my mom a foldable wheelchair that fits in her car, so she was able to join us without worrying about walking. I have mixed feelings about it. On one hand, I don’t know how much of her knee issues are fixable. On the other, I don’t think she’s interested in working toward being more mobile. Still, if this is what it takes to get her out and about, so be it. She was happy to get out and seemed to be in good spirits, so I’ll take it as a win.

* For the uninitiated, “Whamageddon” is a game where the goal is to avoid hearing Wham!'s "Last Christmas" from December 1 through December 24. If you hear it and recognize the song, you’re out. Only the original version counts. I made it through all of last year without getting Whammed… until now.