We’re back up in Purgatory again, and it is lovely up here.
Here’s a shot of Engineer that I just took a few minutes ago:
In this afternoon light, things look kinda washed out, but it it still a darn good looking chunk of rock.
Not much snow on it, though – we haven’t had much. We’re skiing on man-made (although it is darn nice man-made snow – I cannot tell that this stuff came out of a hose. Skis just like any packed powder that I’ve skied on before) and Ethel has started up her 100 Days blog over at http://100days.fatcharliesdiary.com/ . We’re sitting at Day 3 right now, but she hasn’t posted Day 3 yet – I just checked with her. She hasn’t posted Day 3 because she thinks that nobody’s reading it. Huh. Funny about that.
I understand how she feels. This blog is my diary. although I don’t put everything that one might put in a diary here, because I have a suspicion that SOMEBODY might be reading it, and the naked view of a Puckett mind is not fit for human consumption; I must edit and filter. But 100Days is a different deal, and I can see that if nobody is reading it, she might not want to write.
Although, come to think of it, writing is talking – and I can tell you by experience that Ethel doesn’t have to be sure that anybody is listening for her to talk. She talks to the dog so much that I don’t know when she’s talking to me, so sometimes she’ll have long conversations with me that I am not even aware of.
But, having pointed out that this is a diary, I suppose I should add some diary content, which means “introspection”. I do that a lot – indeed, that’s the stuff that I have to edit and filter – because “the unexamined life is not worth living”. Me being a lying lazy drunk, introspection is a necessity of my daily living, lest I wander too far from the path and fall off into the abyss of my own destruction.
I have some anxiety these days. “Anxiety” is a four-syllable word for “fear”, but in this case it fits, because I’m not CONSCIOUS of the fear. I know that it’s there, and I know what it’s about – my job – but it’s not verbal. It’s (by “it” in this context I am personifying the fear as an entity)…it’s not telling me anything specific – it’s basically just telling me that there’s something wrong with my job, or with me in my job, or something-something-something-job. My fear is being danged vague, which is a tough thing to deal with; if it says anything specific, then I can address that with prayer or rationality, but this feeling of impending doom with no root cause is driving me to distraction.
Fact is that there’s nothing wrong with my job, and I’m about to add a different dimension – I went to a C# class a few weeks back and got freshened up in that arena, so now I’ll start working in Visual Studio, using .NET and Team Foundation Server and bowing to Redmond five times a day. That should be interesting.
And there is certainly nothing wrong with my current work situation – the view from my office is aspen and pine, and could at any moment contain a moose or a bear. I have no commute time at all, and lunch is just as liable to be a short nap as not.
My compensation is ridiculous, the company is fantastic, I have more vacation than I can take, benefits are great, and there’s even some stock options shoved in here somewhere. So there is nothing wrong with my job.
(vague fear says “something’s wrong with your job, or with you in your job, or something something something job…) ….SHUT UP!