E got a promotion, not too long ago–he’s the head of his QA department, which had previously been a mess under a guy who really didn’t do what he was supposed to have been doing, as I understand it. So the department was a mess, procedures were creaky and falling apart, morale low, discipline nil, projects kind of bumpy. And he stepped into this, looked around, clapped his hands together and said Right! Let’s clean this mess up. I am so ridiculously proud of him and his vision for this company he adores and how hard he works and how much he wants his department to succeed.

But it also means that he has been working 70-hour weeks, and it has been frustrating to watch. He’s exhausted, cranky, stressed, pushed to his limits. I’ve hung out in his office as he’s worked late into the night, and heard him muttering angrily under his breath, watched his shoulders tighten until they’re up under his ears. I’ve IMed him as he’s stayed late, pushing things out, testing, deploying, pulling out his hair, freaking out and getting very down.

I miss him a lot. During the week, I’ll come in to the city and have
lunch with him, or dinner, and sometimes I’ll sit in his office so he
doesn’t have to be alone in the dark cursing his computer screen, but
otherwise, I never see him. He’s doing what he has to do, and it’s not
going to be forever–just until things get straightened out in the
department, until this big project is completed and pushed through. But
in the meantime, it reminds me that I need to work on getting my own
existence up and running.

I’m working at it–I’ve got the writing coaching, and they’re bringing
me into the center to hang out with the staff and work on special
projects and so on, and that will be good. I applied for a writing
staff job for an experimental web serial content project. I’m RSVPd for
a Salt Lake City meetup kind of deal. I gave my phone number to the
ridiculously cool girlfriends of J. and E.’s friends, and they declared
their drunken love for me, which sometimes means best friendship from
there on out and sometimes means no one remembers what happened and who
this person in their phone is. I know people. I have options, in a
general sense, and prospects. But on a Thursday night, when E is
sitting in the office in his shirt sleeves, I am sitting at home. It
struck me that there’s no one I can call up and say hey, you want to go
grab a drink, maybe? And I don’t know what to do with that. There’s not
much I can do, really.

2 Replies to “prospects”

  1. I’ve so been there. You’re doing what you can do. This is the part that sucks about a grand adventure and a big move; it just takes time to develop those new relationships. They come along, and after a while you realize that you have something of a new network around you — but it’s one of those things that requires the Earth to make a certain number of rotations on its axis, as much as anything else. Keep doing things you like, keep getting to know who you are when you’re on your own, and you’re doing everything you can do.

  2. I know what you’re saying. Grad school is isolating too. Either people are completely bonkers, up to their ears in work, live too far away, or are simply unpleasant to be around. My bf is traveling a lot, and I just ramp up the time I spend fencing. It’s as much a social thing as it is a sports thing.

    If you get really bored – and I mean REALLY bored – why not find a biking club (or running or triathlon club) and train for an event? :) Or fencing, perhaps? :) You’ll definitely meet people, and the training can include dinners and breakfasts (there’s a biking club that meets at this one cafe after morning rides for breakfast on the weekends where my parents live). I don’t know where you live, but universities have triathlon clubs and the like. On days when you feel unfocused and listless and lousy, you’ll always have practice to go to. You’ll meet people, and you’ll be so tired by evening, that you won’t even want to go out. There. All problems solved! :) Hehehe.

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