Day 4 was a total turn around. I spent two hours running some errands and managed to knock 4 items off the to-do list. Started packing the trinkets I won't be able to take with me (i.e. seashells). Unfortunately, Oz sent me one new item to take care of. Not terrible, I am still ahead.
Day 5 today has at least 2 items that will be accomplished. One of them being the dreaded laundry, that actually is more like 3 items (wash, dry, fold).
I think being more proactive and productive with my to-do list has made me feel better, not to mention getting more information on my temporary housing (see http://www.asianamericanaussie.blogspot.com) and plane ticket. The latter really cemented the reality of Oz. There is an actual departure date. With ten days left in my old apartment I am feeling the pinch.
Wednesday, November 7, 2007
Monday, November 5, 2007
In Between Jobs
(Exhibit A) Now that I am using up the phenomenal reserve of personal days I have amassed over the years to prepare for my move to Australia, I am finding myself to be much less productive than I had originally intended. Granted, people in this time of “transition” tend not to be as efficient with how they spend their time (picture long lines at the unemployment office); it bothers me that I am not a contributing member of society. However, I would like to emphasize that taxes are still being deducted from my paycheck as we speak. Maybe I shouldn’t feel so guilty after all.
It is now day 3 of my time off and I am starting to believe I have an addiction to structure. I need it to be the best that I can be, without it I am no better than an amoeba, especially in the memory department. This is what the last three non-working business days had been filled with.
Day 1:
I slept in and woke up around 10am. Not bad. Surveyed my mess of a room, courtesy of Wal-mart and Target orgy along with apathetic disregard for order during the last few days (Exhibit A); I am inspired to restore order to my surrounding. But first things first, coffee and some breakie. Flipped on the tube, got on the laptop and had my morning coffee. I thought about taking a shower but cleaning my room took precedence. Hours go by and I still had not moved from my coffee chair mainly because I had just become addicted to Facebook and its many useless frivolous functions of virtual community construction. Now the coffee is mostly consumed and cold, empty breakfast plate begs to be washed of dry crusted once runny yolk. Phone rings, my brother had locked himself out of his car. The most exciting thing to have happened all day. I search on Google map to pinpoint his location while giving him triple A’s number. Crisis averted and I avoided having to leave the house for purposes other than drinking. Dodged a bullet there. Glanced at the clock and realized my presence is required at my own farewell happy hour with coworkers, I jump in the shower to get ready.
I arrive at happy hour, stayed at point A for about 1.5 hours. After that we proceeded to point B and stayed there for about 3 hours. Then we walked next door to point C for another 2 hours before returning to point B to close out the night at 3am. Went home and passed out for the night.
Day 2:
Woke up around 11am, jumped in the shower and checked for any signs of hang-over haggardness. Got dressed and rolled to my going away lunch at noon. Had pizza and a Pepsi while talking to the best coworkers in the world. Said good bye to everyone, grabbed a Starbucks, and headed home to get ready for my next drinking engagement starting at 4:30pm. Drink, drank, drunk until there was no more. Ended the night with a ginormous order of carne asada fries at Roberto’s.
Weekend:
Saturday was not filled with as much drinking as expected. Purged my closet of my old college papers. Amazed and depressed at how I once understood funny math symbols and complex stuffs.
Daylight savings hit. Sunday was filled with mostly beer drinking while watching football and a couple of night caps before once again getting something with carne asada.
Day 3:
Today I woke early for a doctor’s appointment at 9am. Probably the most productive thing I will do all day. After I got out of the medical building I felt jet lagged from lack of coffee and daylight savings. Drove home and made some breakie and of course coffee. Saw a giant puddle in the kitchen that my roommate made but did not bother cleaning up even though he admitted to it while we were talking in the kitchen. Me having short-timer syndrome mirrored his sloth like apathy. Proceeded to jump on Facebook again while watching the Hills on MTV. Pondered what task I should tackle and dismissed it all for less important agenda items such as sitting in my coffee chair blogging this very moment. I hope there will be drinking later tonight to help me train for the Ozlympics.
I wonder what Day 4 will be like…
It is now day 3 of my time off and I am starting to believe I have an addiction to structure. I need it to be the best that I can be, without it I am no better than an amoeba, especially in the memory department. This is what the last three non-working business days had been filled with.
Day 1:
I slept in and woke up around 10am. Not bad. Surveyed my mess of a room, courtesy of Wal-mart and Target orgy along with apathetic disregard for order during the last few days (Exhibit A); I am inspired to restore order to my surrounding. But first things first, coffee and some breakie. Flipped on the tube, got on the laptop and had my morning coffee. I thought about taking a shower but cleaning my room took precedence. Hours go by and I still had not moved from my coffee chair mainly because I had just become addicted to Facebook and its many useless frivolous functions of virtual community construction. Now the coffee is mostly consumed and cold, empty breakfast plate begs to be washed of dry crusted once runny yolk. Phone rings, my brother had locked himself out of his car. The most exciting thing to have happened all day. I search on Google map to pinpoint his location while giving him triple A’s number. Crisis averted and I avoided having to leave the house for purposes other than drinking. Dodged a bullet there. Glanced at the clock and realized my presence is required at my own farewell happy hour with coworkers, I jump in the shower to get ready.
I arrive at happy hour, stayed at point A for about 1.5 hours. After that we proceeded to point B and stayed there for about 3 hours. Then we walked next door to point C for another 2 hours before returning to point B to close out the night at 3am. Went home and passed out for the night.
Day 2:
Woke up around 11am, jumped in the shower and checked for any signs of hang-over haggardness. Got dressed and rolled to my going away lunch at noon. Had pizza and a Pepsi while talking to the best coworkers in the world. Said good bye to everyone, grabbed a Starbucks, and headed home to get ready for my next drinking engagement starting at 4:30pm. Drink, drank, drunk until there was no more. Ended the night with a ginormous order of carne asada fries at Roberto’s.
Weekend:
Saturday was not filled with as much drinking as expected. Purged my closet of my old college papers. Amazed and depressed at how I once understood funny math symbols and complex stuffs.
Daylight savings hit. Sunday was filled with mostly beer drinking while watching football and a couple of night caps before once again getting something with carne asada.
Day 3:
Today I woke early for a doctor’s appointment at 9am. Probably the most productive thing I will do all day. After I got out of the medical building I felt jet lagged from lack of coffee and daylight savings. Drove home and made some breakie and of course coffee. Saw a giant puddle in the kitchen that my roommate made but did not bother cleaning up even though he admitted to it while we were talking in the kitchen. Me having short-timer syndrome mirrored his sloth like apathy. Proceeded to jump on Facebook again while watching the Hills on MTV. Pondered what task I should tackle and dismissed it all for less important agenda items such as sitting in my coffee chair blogging this very moment. I hope there will be drinking later tonight to help me train for the Ozlympics.
I wonder what Day 4 will be like…
The End (of Work)
The end is never as you’d expect it. Graduation and last day at work, you would think these occasions would be filled with an overwhelming sense of liberation, yet there’s always a little sadness. Maybe it’s because I like to be sad, but I think if you weren’t a little sad then something is amiss. Perhaps you were never happy there, you failed to make connections, or the people there were not memorable; none of the above were the case for me, that made it difficult to say good-bye.
One of my favorite colleagues was messaging me up to when I shut off my computer. He is in another building, but we’ve bonded over an arduous project in the past. He said to take two minutes before I leave and think back to the past three years but only of the good memories and walk out the door with them. And as we winded down our conversation, he said he was going to say what he would say to me on any other day, and that was “have a good night.” While his advice of leaving with the good was well intended, it saddened me because I still could not justify leaving a great network of colleagues in pursuit of the unknown. Will I find replacements for my regular lunch buddy, happy hour crew, and the midnight oil burners? Shutting down my computer for the last time made me feel like pulling the plug on a terminally ill loved one.
As I realize my day-to-day routine is about to be drastically different from the last 10% of my life span, I wonder how I will cope. My heart knows I have to do this, but it is my mind that is having difficulties rationalizing the pros of the decision because all I see are obstacles and things I rather not deal with. Somehow I expected it to be the opposite with my mind made up but my heartstrings tugged in the opposite direction.
One of my favorite colleagues was messaging me up to when I shut off my computer. He is in another building, but we’ve bonded over an arduous project in the past. He said to take two minutes before I leave and think back to the past three years but only of the good memories and walk out the door with them. And as we winded down our conversation, he said he was going to say what he would say to me on any other day, and that was “have a good night.” While his advice of leaving with the good was well intended, it saddened me because I still could not justify leaving a great network of colleagues in pursuit of the unknown. Will I find replacements for my regular lunch buddy, happy hour crew, and the midnight oil burners? Shutting down my computer for the last time made me feel like pulling the plug on a terminally ill loved one.
As I realize my day-to-day routine is about to be drastically different from the last 10% of my life span, I wonder how I will cope. My heart knows I have to do this, but it is my mind that is having difficulties rationalizing the pros of the decision because all I see are obstacles and things I rather not deal with. Somehow I expected it to be the opposite with my mind made up but my heartstrings tugged in the opposite direction.
Wednesday, October 24, 2007
Petting Zoo
The field next to our work parking lot is slowing becoming a petting zoo. This morning, a small flock of sheep were brought in. An hour later, Babe's big fat uncle, Mr. Pig was added to the same pen.
Aside from the excitement taking place adjacent to the asphalt lot where we park our cars, only a sprinkling of employees are actually in the office. A few hours later, my cube mate proclaims the building is to be closed at 11am according to the intranet bulletin. I glance at the time at the corner of my screen, it reads 11:30am. When is someone, ahem management, actually going to inform us of the news? Minutes later an announcement is made on the same bulletin that hourly employees that are in the office were to be paid a time and a half their regular pay for coming in. Where does that leave the salary slaves? To add insult to injury, we were barely informed of the free pizza brought in for lunch due to the cafeteria closure.
So today after checking the emergency hotline and trying to decipher the cryptic HR double talk of:
(Paraphrased) In light of our current conditions in the San Diego area, both buildings are to remain closed. Because the buildings are closed as it was on Monday, all non exempt employees who volunteer to come in will receive a time and a half pay. All other employees will be paid regular pay and no TOP days will be subtracted. Our building will remain open for volunteer employees. The air quality remains good in both buildings. Please check at noon today for the next update.
I've decided to "work from home," possibly head in the afternoon to check email, say hi to Mr. Pig and his sheeps (peeps).
Monday, October 22, 2007
Refugee
I am officially a refugee because of the San Diego Fires. I just evacuated my humble abode an hour ago and am now continuing my vigilance in front of the TV with the local news. As a child I hated natural disasters that made national news because it interrupted my regularly scheduled programs, specifically, cartoons. Growing up with no cable, these times of trial were extremely painful. Now, as an adult I greatly appreciate the round-the-clock coverage our tireless news anchors are providing; especially now there's a possibility I may lose my pack rat belongings to one of five elements: fire.
Now I wondered...what exactly does mandatory evacuation mean? Is it "mandatory" or mandatory mandatory? I mean, there must be some legal jargon that makes it not really mandatory, i.e. they can't force you out of your home. More importantly, I'm more curious about the probability of my place burning down with respect to the level of required evacuation. Does advisory evacuation mean 30% chance? Perhaps mandatory only means 50%? I think when firefighters or law enforcement knocks on your door, then there's a high probability.
I'm learning a bit about myself during all this. According to my previous posting, I added a few items to my flee list. The additional items were a few vanity items , two expensive dresses and two expensive coats. I'll be prepared to attend a fancy evacuation ball barefoot or to keep warm should Mother Nature throw a cold snap this way. I didn't take any additional shoes except for flipflops and the tennis shoes I had on. Oh and I grabbed the frozen pizza I had been craving all day. I guess I'm not as materialistic or shallow as I thought, but I'm not that deep either apparently.
Now I wondered...what exactly does mandatory evacuation mean? Is it "mandatory" or mandatory mandatory? I mean, there must be some legal jargon that makes it not really mandatory, i.e. they can't force you out of your home. More importantly, I'm more curious about the probability of my place burning down with respect to the level of required evacuation. Does advisory evacuation mean 30% chance? Perhaps mandatory only means 50%? I think when firefighters or law enforcement knocks on your door, then there's a high probability.
I'm learning a bit about myself during all this. According to my previous posting, I added a few items to my flee list. The additional items were a few vanity items , two expensive dresses and two expensive coats. I'll be prepared to attend a fancy evacuation ball barefoot or to keep warm should Mother Nature throw a cold snap this way. I didn't take any additional shoes except for flipflops and the tennis shoes I had on. Oh and I grabbed the frozen pizza I had been craving all day. I guess I'm not as materialistic or shallow as I thought, but I'm not that deep either apparently.
San Diego Fire 2007
In my whole entire life this is the second time I have been affected by a major natural disaster. The first one was the Northridge Earthquake; I was shaken awake by the seismic movement. Right now I am home with every TV in the apartment on the San Diego Fire coverage. Work had a fire day; translation no workie today. My town currently is on voluntary evacuation with one of the fires about 25 miles away. Even with the windows shut tight, a layer of black ash has gathered on the window sill. Outside the air looks smoggy but it smells smokey like a campfire. Is it twisted that I don't mind the smell?
My apartment is nearly by the ocean, so I guess there's not really a point to evacuate except to jump in the ocean or out of fear of entrapment by fire. However, just as a precaution, I have made a mental list of items I plan to take with me (golf clubs, change of clothes, important docs, photos, journals, laptop and necessary chargers. If I have time/room then some vanity stuffs). And, just in case, I also called a friend to secure my refugee status at their residence.
The nervous panicky energy in the air conveyed by the news is unsettling. I can't believe houses are actually burning down to the ground. I am keeping an eye outside. I see some cars pass by with the backseat filled with personal items. The whole idea of possibly losing everything I own is surreal and perhaps a bit melodramatic. I imagine I would be devastated and blame myself for not getting renter's insurance (would that make a difference?) But, honestly I feel nothing right now. Non-San Diegan friends are checking in, good to know who my friends are =). I told my friend Kimmy that I'm not leaving until the fire singes my ass or until I get the reverse 911 call.
My apartment is nearly by the ocean, so I guess there's not really a point to evacuate except to jump in the ocean or out of fear of entrapment by fire. However, just as a precaution, I have made a mental list of items I plan to take with me (golf clubs, change of clothes, important docs, photos, journals, laptop and necessary chargers. If I have time/room then some vanity stuffs). And, just in case, I also called a friend to secure my refugee status at their residence.
The nervous panicky energy in the air conveyed by the news is unsettling. I can't believe houses are actually burning down to the ground. I am keeping an eye outside. I see some cars pass by with the backseat filled with personal items. The whole idea of possibly losing everything I own is surreal and perhaps a bit melodramatic. I imagine I would be devastated and blame myself for not getting renter's insurance (would that make a difference?) But, honestly I feel nothing right now. Non-San Diegan friends are checking in, good to know who my friends are =). I told my friend Kimmy that I'm not leaving until the fire singes my ass or until I get the reverse 911 call.
Sunday, October 21, 2007
Big Brother?
This is how I know the government is keeping tabs on us. A month before my move out of this country, the judicial branch summons me for jury duty. The date is a mere 2 days after my departure. That's all I have to say about that.
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