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10 months
I've been at this job for ten months to the day. I still haven't outlasted the length of time I was at Boomerang (*spits*), where I stayed for not quite eleven months, but I'm close. My record at a job is eighteen months, which was the National Bank of Canada. So by next May, if they haven't fired me, this will have been my longest job ever. It kind of feels like I've been here forever and also like I only got here a couple of weeks ago, at the same time.
In two months, it will be my one-year anniversary here, and I will get a raise to boot, which has never happened in all my other jobs. Have I mentioned how much this job rocks lately?
I am stupidly busy these days. The only thing that is keeping me remotely connected with the world is LJ. Thank goodness I challenged myself to write one post a day (minimum) for a year starting on the first of June. Otherwise I'd have no contact with people at all. Today I am at the beginning of a sixteen-hour shift, to which I am not really looking forward: it really takes it out of me, and this weekend is going to be so busy that I won't have time to sleep much more than six or seven hours a night (which is fine, but not really enough to rest properly).
On Saturday my parents have decreed that they are coming by. My father will be helping me set up my bookcases (which I must confess will be a welcome thing: on my own I haven't really had the inclination/energy to do anything about it yet), and my mother has declared jihad against the weeds in the garden. At this point I'm happy to let her do it: she hasn't had a garden to fuss over in years, and it always made her really happy to dig around in the dirt, so as far as I'm concerned she can knock herself out.
Saturday night I'm supposed to see BorderCrossing, although we haven't worked out details yet, and on Sunday there's a picnic for which I must bake banana bread (in my copious amounts of spare time). Then I go to bed, wake up at 04:45 Monday morning, and start another week blessed by the Overtime Fairy. No doubles next week: I just have two twelve-hour shifts on Thursday and Friday. Then another twelve-hour shift the following Monday, and a double on the Wednesday, and a an extra twelve-hour shift on the Sunday. Then five days of evening shifts, a day off, and then I leave for Québec City for eight days (six consecutive twelve-hour shifts! Yay. :P), and then I come back to a few well-deserved days off.
Did I mention ridiculously busy? Yeah.
I did manage to relax a bit yesterday. I posted to my PBeM, let the cats out into the garden (the fire escape is the Bestest Cat Toy Evar!!1!), and watched a couple of episodes of Season 2 of Heroes (eep!) and was in bed with the lights out just before 21:00. That didn't prevent me from nearly oversleeping this morning, in spite of the 04:45 Feline Freakout of Doom due to the new alarm clock.
Still, here I am, ready for work. I have a bunch of clerical stuff to do today, but I am at the fax station (my own choice: I find it easier here, and so I claimed the spot because I'm working sixteen hours today), and thus don't have the radio to handle. So in theory, unless I get seventeen thousand warrants to handle, which I might since it's Friday. You never know.
In two months, it will be my one-year anniversary here, and I will get a raise to boot, which has never happened in all my other jobs. Have I mentioned how much this job rocks lately?
I am stupidly busy these days. The only thing that is keeping me remotely connected with the world is LJ. Thank goodness I challenged myself to write one post a day (minimum) for a year starting on the first of June. Otherwise I'd have no contact with people at all. Today I am at the beginning of a sixteen-hour shift, to which I am not really looking forward: it really takes it out of me, and this weekend is going to be so busy that I won't have time to sleep much more than six or seven hours a night (which is fine, but not really enough to rest properly).
On Saturday my parents have decreed that they are coming by. My father will be helping me set up my bookcases (which I must confess will be a welcome thing: on my own I haven't really had the inclination/energy to do anything about it yet), and my mother has declared jihad against the weeds in the garden. At this point I'm happy to let her do it: she hasn't had a garden to fuss over in years, and it always made her really happy to dig around in the dirt, so as far as I'm concerned she can knock herself out.
Saturday night I'm supposed to see BorderCrossing, although we haven't worked out details yet, and on Sunday there's a picnic for which I must bake banana bread (in my copious amounts of spare time). Then I go to bed, wake up at 04:45 Monday morning, and start another week blessed by the Overtime Fairy. No doubles next week: I just have two twelve-hour shifts on Thursday and Friday. Then another twelve-hour shift the following Monday, and a double on the Wednesday, and a an extra twelve-hour shift on the Sunday. Then five days of evening shifts, a day off, and then I leave for Québec City for eight days (six consecutive twelve-hour shifts! Yay. :P), and then I come back to a few well-deserved days off.
Did I mention ridiculously busy? Yeah.
I did manage to relax a bit yesterday. I posted to my PBeM, let the cats out into the garden (the fire escape is the Bestest Cat Toy Evar!!1!), and watched a couple of episodes of Season 2 of Heroes (eep!) and was in bed with the lights out just before 21:00. That didn't prevent me from nearly oversleeping this morning, in spite of the 04:45 Feline Freakout of Doom due to the new alarm clock.
Still, here I am, ready for work. I have a bunch of clerical stuff to do today, but I am at the fax station (my own choice: I find it easier here, and so I claimed the spot because I'm working sixteen hours today), and thus don't have the radio to handle. So in theory, unless I get seventeen thousand warrants to handle, which I might since it's Friday. You never know.
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Email with details, please?
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Right now, Jenny's got dice suction-cupped to Rich's forehead. He's going to have a forehead hickey for days.
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One of my coworkers had a 40-year anniversary last year. It's the type of place where they treat you relatively well and there's not much else in town.
I'm a consultant there, so it's an entirely different bag for me. But still, 40 years?
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So until the new girls are operational (not for another 6-8 weeks), we're even more short-staffed than usual.
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I try calling you! But you speak French when I do!
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Think of it as incentive to learn the language. ;)
Oh, and you are welcome to stay. BorderCrossing is nothing if not understanding, and so far we haven't exactly spent every waking and sleeping minute together.
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*hugs*
Phnee Working Long Time
and my mother has declared jihad against the weeds in the garden. At this point I'm happy to let her do it: she hasn't had a garden to fuss over in years, and it always made her really happy to dig around in the dirt, so as far as I'm concerned she can knock herself out.
Oh, do let her. When I was trapped in an apartment, I was desperate to get my hands on anyone's garden.
Your work hours are... are... I'm speechless.
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Know that J and I revel in your happiness, worry about you working yourself sick and eagerly (but patiently) await your return!