Close Calls

The day I returned to work after my big backpacking trip in the Selway-Bitterroot Wilderness, I rode my bike. This isn't unusual. I live close enough to work that I try to ride most days that I go in, making exceptions if I'm feeling ill or if I have to bring something bigger than I can handle on the bike. Or if it's very cold or very hot. 

I bike along roads for the most part. There's a section of the Greenbelt I can take, but it makes my route longer so I don't always go that way. On this particular day, I was sticking to the road. There's really only one place on my route that scares me, where I have to travel through a stoplight controlled intersection at Beacon and Broadway. 

The trouble with that intersection is the oncoming left turners. The light is one that does the flashing yellow for left turns, and what can happen is the flashing yellow comes on and the first car in the oncoming left decides they have just enough room to make it before I cross into the intersection. That car isn't really the problem, the problem is that the car behind that car literally can't see me. 

I'm always afraid when that first left turner goes in front of me that the next car in line will just assume that it's clear and not look. I keep an eye out for that possibility. 

And thus it was on this particular Monday morning. The light turned green while I was still a ways away. The flashing yellow initiated when I was still about half a block away, pedaling like mad. The first left turner hesitated, but then went on through. 

I entered the intersection right after that first car left it, and the next left turner was my worst nightmare. They didn't slow down at all as I kept pedaling. I looked at the driver and saw that they were unaware of me. 

If I had had time to think it through, maybe I would have tried to get out of the way somehow, or yelled something pithy, articulate and scathing. 

Instead, as the car came within feet of running me right over, I let out a yell. No words, not really a scream, but a loud exclamation, intended to inform the driver that they were about to hit me. 

Whether the driver heard me, I don't know. I had to keep pedaling and only had time to exchange an aghast glance with the next left turner in line, who appeared to empathize with my plight and condemn the other driver's carelessness. Then I pedaled myself directly onto the sidewalk so I could stop and have a bit of hysterics. 

I had some heavy breathing, a few tears, and then pulled myself together and continued on to work. I really wanted to tell someone about it, but the office was empty when I arrived and I didn't end up telling anyone except my husband, first over chat, and, finally, in person after work. With gestures! 

Interestingly enough, that wasn't my only car/bike encounter that week. On Friday, I was taking the Greenbelt home. After I turned off the Greenbelt onto a street, I witnessed a truck completely ignore the stop sign, coming close to running into me - though it wasn't quite as close as Monday's. 

But I got to say my piece this time, letting the driver know how beautiful I thought her running of the stop sign was. She stopped her truck just to give me a special message. "F- you," she said. 

I might have said nothing. I might have taken offense. I might have felt hurt by her being so mean when I was pointing out something she'd clearly done wrong. 

Instead, I just went with the first response that came into my head. "Oh great! I love being f'd!" I yelled. 

Because her truck was stopped, I passed it. After I gave her my words, I heard her truck rev behind me and had a moment to wonder if she'd really escalate this to bodily harm. I rode my bike right up behind a parked car, figuring she wouldn't risk running into someone else's car just because of an annoying cyclist. She roared off. 

I made it home safely. Here's hoping that I've finished all my car/bike interactions for the rest of the year. 

Travel Craziness

Last week, I went on a business trip. It was my first business trip since the pandemic started, and I was a bit nervous at the start. I knew that I was going to wear my mask on the plane and in the airport and just as much as possible. Maybe the COVID risks aren't that high, but "conference crud" has been a thing since before the pandemic, and I had things to do this week that I wanted to be well for. 

The travel started off well enough. The flight from Boise to Salt Lake was short and uneventful. The next flight to the destination was delayed, but not too long. It actually made the layover better, because there was time to get food without worrying about missing the connection. Again, an uneventful flight, though quite a bit longer all the way through to Nashville. 

Easy enough to check in to the hotel, and I then walked over to a nearby Whole Foods to get some snacks and a dinner. I could have gone to a restaurant for dinner, but it's a lot harder to know exactly what ingredients are in foods at a restaurant. It's just easier to buy a frozen meal. Plus, I got a popsicle for the walk back to the hotel, which was a fabulous idea if I do say so myself. 

The conference itself was good, and I learned a bunch. Departure was early Saturday morning, and it taught me something else entirely. 

See, the flight left at 5:25 am Saturday morning. Two hours before that would be 3:25, but the security line in Nashville doesn't open until 4 am, so the planned departure from the hotel was set for 3:15 in the AM. I tried to go to bed a little after 9, hoping I would get some 4 to 5 hours of sleep. Instead, I woke up just before midnight and couldn't get back to sleep. 

I tried, I really did. But I ended up being wakeful until after 2 am. I did doze off enough to miss my 2:35 am alarm, but the 2:45 am alarm got me up. I ate some cut watermelon I'd gotten from Whole Foods and got dressed. I didn't bother with a shower, just double checked everything was packed and left a tip for housekeeping. 

I was done before 3:15, but I was still second to last to arrive of my group. We got in an Uber, made it to the airport where I then had to wait in line to check my bag. Then security - where I had to go through twice because I forgot to drink the last of the water in my bottle. I blame that on the Uber - it was a tight fit for 5 passengers plus luggage, and instead of drinking my water, I had to use my elbows to keep other people's luggage from braining me. 

But we made it through and got on the short flight to Atlanta. Yes, Atlanta. Because why not go south and east when your destination is north and west? That's where things started to fall apart. Our flight's departure was delayed 50 minutes, and then 10 more. Then we sat on the tarmac after boarding for another 10 to 20 minutes. Our layover at Salt Lake was already going to be tight, but the pilot assured us that they would make up time in the air. 

Ha!

They may have made up time in the air, but it wasn't enough for us. When we neared Salt Lake, one of the flight attendants tried to help folks with tight connections by announcing said connections and having people raise their hands, something they don't typically do. Several destinations were announced, but not Boise. No, we had already missed our flight. 

Two of my party got rebooked on a flight later that day to Boise. Two got booked over to San Francisco to spend the night and then get to Boise in the morning. I got rebooked to fly into Seattle the next day and then Boise that afternoon. This was not acceptable. 

After a very long wait in the customer service line, I got onto standby for the same day flight to Boise, as did my fellow travelers who had not been automatically rebooked for it. We ate lunch and then went to stand by and see if there would be any room on the flight for us. I saw my name up on the board as being on standby - a first for me. But my fellow travelers were not on the board and were starting to be resigned to a night in Salt Lake or a return trip to the customer service line. 

But in the end, there was room for all of us. I even got to sit next to one of my party in the row right behind first class with more leg room than I could possibly use. The seat felt like how I remember airplane seats being in my youth, much wider than the economy seats are nowadays. It was tolerable, and I even managed to doze on the flight. 

Even with my toes pointed, I couldn't touch the seat in front of me.

It was an absolutely draining, incredibly long day. It's one thing if you've got a flight and it just has a lot of layovers or will take a long time. It's a different thing if you're running on less than 3 hours sleep and don't know when or whether you'll get home. I'm really hoping my next flight has nowhere near this level of insanity - at the very least, I'll be protesting any attempt to book me on a flight before 6 in the morning... 

Presenting

I was recently tasked with a short presentation at my workplace. The deal would be informing three groups, in succession, on a topic that I am the most well-versed in of those in our office. I would not, yet, call myself well-versed in the topic, because we are early in the stages of this particular project. But I believe I will get there, and I did feel confident that I could do this task. 

And yet. 

I don't like presenting in groups, even small ones. It's not something that I seek out or particularly enjoy. I've done it enough by this point in my life that I am accustomed to doing it, and I can do it. I even consider that I can do it at a minimum level of competence. But it's still a bit of a stress, and an unknown. 

So I was glad to be able to fall asleep the night before without any issues. I had prepared remarks, and a handout, and I was as ready as I was going to be. And it ended up going just fine. It was strange to have to turn my head to establish eye contact with each audience member. The room was a little loud, because there were three other groups doing the same thing (some of them quite a bit louder than others). But I managed to get through the whole thing without swearing, and I rolled with the questions that I got, and took notes when points were brought up that I didn't know the answer to so I could follow up. 

I was surprised by the quality of questions that I got; I might have to volunteer myself to do this more often so I can get ideas from all around the office instead of just in my subsection. And I was pleased that I didn't have any nervous blushes strike. I managed to keep my emotional investment casual and I'm happy at that. 

I wonder if the months of conducting business over Zoom has influenced how I feel about presenting. It seems like Zoom is more like presenting than conversing, so you have to always be ready to be the center of attention. One person at a time. And the other piece is that I have practiced "presenting" on Zoom so much in the last 14 months. I've become inured to the whole process. Vaccinated, one might say. 

Spitting in the Right Tube

I had expected to get another nasal swab test when I went in for mandatory Covid testing at work. Surprise, surprise, we have switched things up! 

This time, we got to do a self-administered spit test instead of the nasal swabbing. It makes total sense to me, because the nasal swabbing requires the use of health care workers who could be doing something more useful than swabbing nasal cavities all day, and rather than 2 at a time, they can go 10 at a time. But it was still a pretty surreal experience, more so than the swabbing because it lasted so much longer. The swab was step up, pull down mask, get swabbed for 10 seconds, done, out the door. The spit test is different. 

The classroom's normal desks had been cleared out to make room for stations set up at folding tables. There was a set in the center of the room and then tables all around the walls. The windows, those leaning ones that seem to be found in most any school building, were cracked open despite the chill in the air and the rain pouring down outside. I was directed to the far table by the windows by the room's sole attendant, dressed in blue PPE of some sort and, like everyone else, wearing a mask. At my table (and every other table), a placard was taped to the wall, providing instructions. 

I read them through once, to make sure I knew all my steps before I got started. Not that I expected there to be any gotchas on this particular test, but you never know when you might run into your own incorrect assumptions. First, sanitize, easy enough with the provided sanitizer, sitting on the window sill next to a box of tissues, leaving the table itself absolutely clear for easy cleaning between testers. 

Next, caps off both the tubes, and then, the first fun part. Forcefully push the ribbed end of the collector straw into the little tube. No, a little more forcefully, almost got it, whatever you do don't let it pop out of your hands and fly around the room... got it. 

Then, just make yourself salivate. Standing there, in a repurposed classroom, with no food smells to be found, with 6 to 10 other people, all but one of whom are also trying to jumpstart their salivary glands, yes, you'll find it easy as pie to get those juices flowing. I mean, I didn't. And at least one other guy was vocal about issues. And one guy thought he was done, but the attendant said it was too foamy and he needed to collect more non-foam. It's just not as easy as it sounds. 

I kept putting my mask back on between collection attempts, though I saw others keeping theirs off for the duration of the testing. There wasn't a specific protocol about that, and I figured they are probably just letting people do whatever since we have all averred that we are not currently symptomatic just to get into that room. 

I did, after a couple of attempts, manage to get it about halfway filled. And then I stood, with my eyes closed, and tried to think of appetizing food smells. Pizza, hot and fresh, with stretchy cheese and too much grease. French fries, golden and glistening, salt crystals catching the light like little diamonds, fresh out of the fryer, crinkle cut so they have a crispness to the outside and pure molten potato on the inside. Strawberry ice cream on a hot summer's day, looking so soft and gooey as it melts and begins to drip dribble down the cone to your hand... 

The meditation on food didn't really work for me, but I did eventually fill the collection tube sufficiently to pass muster. I had to tap it a lot to clear the bubbles, but I got that spit. 

I'm not really looking forward to the next one, but I'll be better prepared.

Maybe I'll wear some eau de bacon

Jots and Tittles

I was already going a bit slower than normal this year in writing my book. My mom dying threw me for a loop, and I'm no longer expecting myself to publish before the end of the year. I want this book to be better than the ones before it, so I'm asking for criticism from my first reader that will help me make the book interesting to read. So far, he's giving that for sure. 

It won't be the first time that I've had to publish a year's book the following calendar year. It probably won't be the last. Life doesn't always give us what we expect. If 2020 has emphasized one life lesson, that would probably be it. We never know what the future might hold, whether in the next year, the next month or the next day. 

I'm finding it difficult to focus, and it's taking a lot of energy to keep up with my day job. I'm also putting a lot of energy into working out. Working out is good for me in many ways, but I also need to be careful about pushing my body too hard, because I am, at least in part, using exercise as a stress reliever. And I've got a lot to work through. 

Once I do finish my solo book, I want to update my trail guides. Then there's a kind of self-help and/or philosophy book that's tumbling about in my head. I don't know if I'm going to write it next or if I'm going to need more before I get to a place where I can. It depends on my confidence level at any particular moment. Do I feel like these ideas are important and that I can state them better than they might have been before? Or do I feel like these ideas are stupid and/or have already been written to death and/or I'm certainly not the best person to do the presenting of these ideas? 

I'm not sure how many of my ideas might have been written about before, because I'm still at the idea stage. I want to actually do some writing before doing any research. Otherwise, I'll be influenced by the reading of others' interpretations instead of presenting my own. But I have been thinking of revisiting some philosophy from college, specifically the book I wrote my senior essay on, Leibniz' Principles of Nature and Grace. If that book has influenced my ideas, then they're already influenced since I read it, thoroughly, before. 

My boss at work keeps reminding everyone looking forward to 2021 that nothing is going to magically change on January 1 (covid will still be here, etc...). It really annoys me when he does that, because when I bring that up, I'm trying to look at moving forward with a different attitude, internally. People want, perhaps need, milestones in their lives. Routine. Organization. Our calendar is designed to give us that. We get new weeks, new months and new years, all excellent inflection points, just waiting for someone to take advantage of them. I know that outside circumstances on January 1 will closely resemble those of December 31. But I can hope that attitudes can change. My own, if no one else's. 

The Hybrid Way

Back in March, we went remote from work pretty quickly, rather all at once. There were hesitations in the administration, but they did eventually cave to the push. Throughout the summer, I worked remotely because I had to. I wanted to be at the office, in large part because my living space is a studio apartment and my husband is home all day. 

In August, I got my wish. I was allowed to return since there was space enough for me to be socially distanced without impacting anyone who needed to be there for business purposes. While my work is more efficiently done in the office due to better internet and desk accommodations, it can be done remotely, business-wise. 

Another reason to be in office was so that I could use the Rec Center during the workday, but I quickly learned that when I went there, I'd come home with a cold. And it was probably in small part due to the fact that the showers were unable to provide hot water. Yeah, I'm not into cold showers post-workout. I balk at cool showers, heck, I balk at lukewarm showers. That wasn't cutting it. 

So, I requested and received permission to shift to a hybrid schedule that sees me in office 3 days a week and working from home 2. I'm liking the variety this schedule presents. And I really like being able to use my exercise release time from home, where I know the showers will be hot. Especially since that exercise is running outside in 30 degree weather... 

I find myself trying to imagine what it's going to be like after Covid. Will we actually all go back to the office? Will people shake hands again? Or will we never have an after Covid because not enough people take the vaccine? I could never have imagined a year ago that the changes that Covid has wrought would happen. So how can I possibly imagine what will happen in the future now? Before, I kind of expected that things would continue to be how they were, in general. Now, I'm not so sure. 

If you had told me a year ago that my entire department would go remote, I wouldn't have been able to guess why. This hybrid schedule is working well for me now. 

But who knows what the future will bring? 

State of the 2020 Solo Book

 I'm a bit late in writing up my solo trip this year. I've started later than this once before, and it just ends up delaying publication overall, because I use the winter break to write instead of to publish. I have started, and made some progress, but not nearly as much as I'd like. 

I know it's all about getting my butt in the chair and typing it out. And yet, somehow, I'm just not choosing that, again and again. I think part of it is that I'm pretty stressed at work. There is so much work to be done and more and more seems to pile up each day. I'm so far from being bored that I've forgotten what that feels like. 

I need to let that stress go. I need to just accept that things are going to be busy as all get out, and people are going to get impatient and think that they should be at the head of the line. I will make my assessment, do what I can in the time that I have, and go home and get my butt in the chair. 

If I can get in a good, full weekend of writing, I should be able to wrap this up before the end of the month, setting me up for a 2020 publication year if I keep the discipline of butt in chair up for the picture plates and publication tasks. 

The Little Victories - or - Not Today, Satan

The other night, I was lying down to sleep. I was all set. My night time routine had been completed, and I was ready to drift off. My mind slid through the trivia of the day and caught on an email that I'd reviewed just before the end of the work day. Caught and fastened on with a sudden, sharp spike of panic. 

See, I had read that email at the time, and sent a reassuring reply, but something was percolating through my mind. That something was the realization that if I didn't take care of a particular clean up task, I would be setting up our processing team for a WHOLE lot of work they shouldn't need to do. 

I'm not going to go into excruciating detail on what I had to do or why. That's not important. What's important is how I dealt with it. 

In the past, I might have leapt out of bed and headed to the computer to try to do damage control RIGHT NOW. Or I might have stayed in bed, but been unable to fall asleep, haunted by the error and afraid that I wouldn't remember to fix it in time when I woke up. 

Instead, I took a few minutes to embrace the panic. I asked myself how I could fix it. The first plan that came into my head was completely unworkable (editing a few hundred records one by one). The second plan would still leave some clean up to be done, but definitely reduce the immediate impact on the processors. 

So I reached over to my nightstand and pulled out the notebook a friend gave me. I flipped to the back, because I planned to tear the page out, and I wrote out my 4 step plan to fix the issue as best as I could. Then I tore the page out and went to the bathroom, where I folded it so it wrapped my Kindle. No way I'd miss that in the morning! 

Then, like a freaking miracle, I went back to bed and actually slept. 

I derailed the panic train before it could derail the sleeping train. After all, I like the sleeping train a lot better than the panic train - who doesn't? 

I had an opportunity to create a monster that would ruin my night's sleep and negatively affect me the rest of the next day. And I turned it down. Not this time, no thank you, been there, done that, threw away the t-shirt. 

I'm still not as good at falling asleep as my husband. But maybe I can learn. 

Tidbits

Well, I got another cold/flu/crud thing last week. I'm choosing to blame my boss, who stayed home some days last week to take care of sick family and also when he (inevitably) also fell sick. And my husband caught whatever it was from me. So instead of starting to evaluate how I felt based on the low residue diet once the antibiotics should have had some effect, I was just ... sick.

Now, I'm done with the antibiotics and mostly over the illness. Not entirely pain free, but it's a pain that is much more manageable than what I'd had before taking the antibiotics. And it's intermittent rather than constant. So there is improvement, but I don't have a verdict yet as to whether I've truly benefited or not.

I started to track my foods so that I could get an idea of what worked, but when I got sick I kind of fell off the tracking bandwagon. I even stopped tracking bowel movements, though I know I did have at least one per day. It just wasn't as important to track. Now, I really should get back to tracking both of those, along with pain symptoms again so I can get a good sense of how I'm doing. My next doctor appointment will be in June and I really hope that I can be in a good place by then.

It makes so much sense that I would have felt better while backpacking, because unless we really work at it, most of our backpacking food is low fiber. And rather than three large meals a day with a few snacks, we snack a lot and have smaller "big" meals three times a day. Kind of. I mean, breakfast is now tending towards being a bar and some jerky on the move, and lunch isn't all that big. Dinners are relatively big, but not huge. I'm looking forward to backpacking season now, because I feel like I'll be able to handle my body better, knowing what I know now.

Work is slower this time of year, and I'm working on handing off projects I would normally do myself to one of my direct reports. He is supposed to be learning how to do the things that I do, so even though I want to do all the things, I have to learn to let go and allow him to learn. It's a process that I'm trying to embrace.

Busy Is Good. Right?

Work is getting extra crazy for some reason. Just when things should be slowing down... 

Usually, this time of year would be a lull, but the lull has been filled with new project development. I attended a conference last week, which took nearly my entire work week. This week, I've got three full days of solid meetings, and everything else needs to get squeezed in wherever it will fit. 

I'm working on being "documentative" when it comes to everything I'm doing. I demonstrate a technique, I document it, I follow up on meetings, I make records here, there and everywhere. 

In some ways, it feels like I'm doing two or three times the work that I need to, but I know it will all pay off in the long run. Having processes documented increases the ability of everyone in my unit to do the required work without struggling. 

On top of my intense meeting schedule, I think I'm getting some cold/crud thing - headache, body ache, too hot and too cold at the same time. I probably shouldn't have worked out today, but I guess I'm glad to have experienced the infamous 12.1 open workout. Anyone can do it - it's just 7 minutes of burpees to a six inch target! 

Ideally, next week should be less full of meetings, but I'm not entirely sure that will be the case. This week's set of meetings is the start of a build project, and I'm pretty sure I'll be the main contact for follow up work. Just a feeling that I have. 

My bosses do at least know that I'm in this situation and doing my best to keep my head above water, but I'm frustrated that I don't have the time I want to spend on projects that have been on hold for nearly a month. (I had four out of five days in meetings the week of 2/13, a four day work week for the 2/20 holiday, the conference, then this week. I'm feeling a wee bit behind.) 

Oh, and I'm also doing an online writing workshop. And preparing for a 100 mile hike the first week of May, which includes physical training, research and prep work. 

I am not bored. 

Rhythm

I'm still feeling out of sorts after the conference last week. In the past, I've taken a day or two off the week of the conference to try and get myself back into my regular rhythm, but this year that wasn't an option. There have been staffing shortages for months now, and I feel an obligation to be present as much as possible.

After all, even when I go in every day, there's still more work than I can accomplish in a single day. Taking a day off, even when I rather need the break, hasn't been a good option in the last few months. But I am now running into a peculiarity of the system in which I work. I am approaching the limit on the number of vacation hours I can accrue.

It's time to use it or lose it.

I never thought I'd get there. I've known other people who reached the limit, and, internally, I half scoffed and half awed at them. Never, thought past-me, would I be able to spend so much time working that I'd come up to the use-it-or-lose-it limit.

But here I am. And I have no intention of losing the hours that I have worked hard to earn.

That is going to mean continued breaks to my rhythm. Days that I take off because I have to take something. It's a good thing. Now that I've reached that limit, I can see that I have gotten to the point where I need to be "forced" to take some time off of work. I've scheduled three days in the next five weeks, and I don't have any plans for those days, other than "not working."

Like a Boss

A few months ago, my boss was on vacation. She was going to be gone for two weeks, a nice long trip. We had prepared for her absence as best as we could, and my own long vacation would be happening two days after she came back. Summer's not a busy time at my workplace, which worked out great for both of us, since we both liked taking outdoorsy vacations.

But, the week before she was supposed to come back, the gut punch arrived.

She was not coming back.

At first, I didn't believe it. Classic denial. And then I proceeded quickly through the rest of the stages, landing more in limbo than anything else. For several weeks, I waited to see how things would fall out in my section of the office.

And, two weeks ago, the word came down. I was promoted into my boss's position.

Supervising isn't something that I'd ever planned on doing, but this would be a small team and I would have a mentor in my boss's boss, who had actually been my original boss when I first started in this office. I felt that my path wouldn't be easy, but it would be possible. Something that I could handle. I could learn to supervise.

Then an uppercut came out of nowhere.

My now-boss, who had been my boss's boss before my boss left, was also leaving the department.

When she told me and my direct report, I maintained an outward calm, because I had to take this without freaking out. If there was ever a chance to prove that I could keep control over my emotions sufficiently to be a good supervisor, then the time was now. At the least, I wouldn't be able to prove it to her for much longer.

But it was important for me to prove it to myself as well. I know that one of my weaknesses in this team environment has been a tendency to be overly emotional. Inside, my head is spinning at the rapid pace of change, but outwardly, I'm working on projecting the kind of calm that will hold my team together.

I'm trying to take these punches like a boss.

Volunteering

My husband, who was in the Navy, has told me that Navy stands for "never again volunteer yourself."

I've been in the habit of not volunteering myself in the first place, let alone going for a second try. But, in a couple weeks, I'll be giving not one, but two presentations at a work conference. Of course, one of them will be with a partner so that's a good thing, but the other one I will be flying solo.

And I volunteered for this of my own free will.

What was I thinking again?

It seemed, at the time, that it would be prestigious for me to give a presentation, yes, but there was more to it than that. I don't need a pat on the head as validation for my knowledge in my field. But I do have a passion for that knowledge, and I want to share it.

That's why I volunteered, really. Because I know that I know this subject very well, and I want to help other people who are going to need to know this subject. Out of the several proposed sessions on this subject, mine was one that was selected - and I can't entirely claim that it was the catchy title that made that happen. I also demonstrated in my proposal that I know this subject matter and treat it seriously.

I remember that one of the other proposals didn't even give the correct name for the process around which the presentation would center. Words can be slippery things, and so when one is speaking technically, one must be precise. A file is not a record is not an id.

And when I present my session, I hope to bring my enthusiasm and my knowledge to the room, spill it out on the attendees and then go weep in relief at being done.

And only then will I decide if I never want to volunteer again.