I had a moment of such joyous abandon this morning, I should have been an inspiration to others. Instead, I think I made people very very uncomfortable. But first, what lead up to the moment:
I took the day off work yesterday to work at the shelter to lend a hand with the oiled ducks. Taking a vacation day to volunteer somewhere, you say? Is that wise? Well let me answer you with some background: We have been without an executive director at work for almost a year now. We've been without a chair for the committee since the start of March. We found out that in the fall Alberta Health and Wellness was drafting legislation to disband the committee I work for, so the department was looking to pull my job out from under me without mentioning anything. And finally, a few weeks ago the man who would be our executive director's boss if we had an executive director said that the fact that we haven't had a chair for two months "should tell [us] something about the future of the committee."
So Friday's choices were basically two-fold:
1) Put in 7.25 hours doing a boring thankless job out of loyalty to an employer who has no loyalty to me and is actually setting in motion the mechanisms by which they intend to kick me to the curb without notice.
or
2) Put in 8 hours making a difference to staff who are working their fingers to the bone for something that I desperately believe in, and be a part of giving unfortunate creatures a fighting chance at surviving their tragic predicaments.
Yeah. I wrestled with that decison for 2.5 milliseconds. And shall wrestle with it even more briefly should the shelter require my two hands this upcoming week. I have 25 vacation days coming to me. I can take them here and there when the shelter needs me -- or I can take them in a row starting immediately. Department's choice.
So the day at the shelter was exhausing, and at times very sad ... but overall quite exhilarating because I was making a difference for once, and spending my time somewhere that I was appreciated. Ah, self-worth. There you are, my friend. It's been so long.
Of course, because I was standing right there when our director of wildlife services determined that she didn't have time to do the Global morning show today to talk about the effect of litter on wildlife, I was roped into doing it. I set my alarm at 6 a.m. to be on-site by 7:30 a.m. although I wasn't to be interviewed by Seanna Collins until 9:50 a.m. I taped it so I could see how I did. Verdict: not overly articulate, but functional. I was talking too much, though, and she started kicking my foot to indicate I needed to shut up so she can speak to someone else. I guess it beats staring blank-eyed and stammering "I uh ... umm" over and over.
SO, it was 10 a.m. and I was actually awake, dressed and out of my apartment on a Saturday morning. I went to Costco and bought new eyeglass frames (I need a new prescription, so I just bought the frames. I'll get the lenses later). I can't decide if I like them as much as I thought I did at the store.
These are my old glasses:
And these are the new ones:
I just don't know.
After getting the glasses I decided to see a movie. (this is where the joy comes in) Just as I was pulling into the parking spot and about to turn off the engine, Billy Idol's "Dancing with Myself" came on the radio. I turned off the car (mustn't sit and idle - bad for the environment) but kept the radio on to listen to the song.
But I found I just had to dance. And not just some shoulder bops and head bobs. I was rocking out with the shoulder shimmys and torso swings and head banging and I cranked the music and sang along. I saw people walking by - didn't care. Twice someone pulled into the space next to me, only to pull back out of the space and park someplace else when they saw me. One man approached, I think concerned I was having a seizure -- but nope. Just dancing with my sel-elf. He walked off I think a bit miffed that I had concerned him for nothing (thanks anyways though guy! nice of you to double check)
Then the song ended and I got out of my car like nothing was odd. And as far as I'm concerned, nothing was. Why can't someone rock out in their car? I was parked. I was posing no hazard. People gotta lighten up, man. A little Billy Idol never killed anyone.
I took the day off work yesterday to work at the shelter to lend a hand with the oiled ducks. Taking a vacation day to volunteer somewhere, you say? Is that wise? Well let me answer you with some background: We have been without an executive director at work for almost a year now. We've been without a chair for the committee since the start of March. We found out that in the fall Alberta Health and Wellness was drafting legislation to disband the committee I work for, so the department was looking to pull my job out from under me without mentioning anything. And finally, a few weeks ago the man who would be our executive director's boss if we had an executive director said that the fact that we haven't had a chair for two months "should tell [us] something about the future of the committee."
So Friday's choices were basically two-fold:
1) Put in 7.25 hours doing a boring thankless job out of loyalty to an employer who has no loyalty to me and is actually setting in motion the mechanisms by which they intend to kick me to the curb without notice.
or
2) Put in 8 hours making a difference to staff who are working their fingers to the bone for something that I desperately believe in, and be a part of giving unfortunate creatures a fighting chance at surviving their tragic predicaments.
Yeah. I wrestled with that decison for 2.5 milliseconds. And shall wrestle with it even more briefly should the shelter require my two hands this upcoming week. I have 25 vacation days coming to me. I can take them here and there when the shelter needs me -- or I can take them in a row starting immediately. Department's choice.
So the day at the shelter was exhausing, and at times very sad ... but overall quite exhilarating because I was making a difference for once, and spending my time somewhere that I was appreciated. Ah, self-worth. There you are, my friend. It's been so long.
Of course, because I was standing right there when our director of wildlife services determined that she didn't have time to do the Global morning show today to talk about the effect of litter on wildlife, I was roped into doing it. I set my alarm at 6 a.m. to be on-site by 7:30 a.m. although I wasn't to be interviewed by Seanna Collins until 9:50 a.m. I taped it so I could see how I did. Verdict: not overly articulate, but functional. I was talking too much, though, and she started kicking my foot to indicate I needed to shut up so she can speak to someone else. I guess it beats staring blank-eyed and stammering "I uh ... umm" over and over.
SO, it was 10 a.m. and I was actually awake, dressed and out of my apartment on a Saturday morning. I went to Costco and bought new eyeglass frames (I need a new prescription, so I just bought the frames. I'll get the lenses later). I can't decide if I like them as much as I thought I did at the store.
These are my old glasses:
And these are the new ones:
I just don't know.
After getting the glasses I decided to see a movie. (this is where the joy comes in) Just as I was pulling into the parking spot and about to turn off the engine, Billy Idol's "Dancing with Myself" came on the radio. I turned off the car (mustn't sit and idle - bad for the environment) but kept the radio on to listen to the song.
But I found I just had to dance. And not just some shoulder bops and head bobs. I was rocking out with the shoulder shimmys and torso swings and head banging and I cranked the music and sang along. I saw people walking by - didn't care. Twice someone pulled into the space next to me, only to pull back out of the space and park someplace else when they saw me. One man approached, I think concerned I was having a seizure -- but nope. Just dancing with my sel-elf. He walked off I think a bit miffed that I had concerned him for nothing (thanks anyways though guy! nice of you to double check)
Then the song ended and I got out of my car like nothing was odd. And as far as I'm concerned, nothing was. Why can't someone rock out in their car? I was parked. I was posing no hazard. People gotta lighten up, man. A little Billy Idol never killed anyone.
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