The Fourth Stage of Being Dumped: Anger

Apparently, like grief, there are five stages to being dumped. The stages are very similar to that of grief:

1) Denial
2) Bargaining
3) Depression
4) Anger
5) Acceptance

Except for the first and last stages, the middle three can come in any order.

My boss is currently on the anger stage. He's been through denial. This stage was when he didn't want to accept that I'd resigned and tried to talk me out of it. This was handled in two awkward meetings on Monday. The second stage, bargaining, soon followed. This was handled in another two awkward meetings in which he asked what I wanted to stay. It was also followed by an imaginary job description that was supposed to appeal to my desire for more control and responsibility. It was not, however, followed by an offer of a salary increase.

Stage 3, depression, apparently followed on Monday. According to my HR manager who called me in yesterday to justify my reasons for leaving, my boss was 'pretty torn up' about my decision to leave and 'very down.' I did not see this. He didn't not tell me that he was torn up. He just denied it and then bargained for me to stay.

What I saw was him move right to anger. If this were an actual relationship in which he were a boy being dumped by a girlfriend instead of, you know, a vice-president of a company whose employee has professionally resigned, this would be the stage in which the dumped boyfriend acts like a complete jerk and treats his ex-girlfriend like crap. He would be at the stage in which he finds a rebound girl intended to make his ex-girlfriend jealous and regret dumping him.

Sadly, I don't think my boss realizes that he's not actually personally being dumped because he certainly has the anger stage of a breakup down pat. Today, for example, one of his only interactions with me was this morning was in reference to the fact that I finally broke down and cried in his office yesterday because I was so stressed from having to justify, explain and discuss my 'reasons for leaving.' Today, his comment was, "Are you feeling better today?"

It sounds like an innocent question but when it's said with the right amount of sarcasm, snarkiness and bitterness, you know he's really saying, "are you going to have another girly fit of crying today?" Naturally, like any ex-, he feels that he has a right to make me feel bad because he's been mistreated by my dumping him in the first place whereas, silly me, tend to think that as my manager, he probably shouldn't be taking this quite so personally.

He moved towards the rebound stage as soon as he asked my coworker to temporarily learn my job responsibilities. This morning, I had to sit through a painful meeting with him and my coworker in which he went through each of the issues I've been working on to see how much I had left to dump on my coworker. If he'd bothered to get to know me personally or, perhaps more likely, he wasn't being slightly vindictive, he would know that while I might not love my job, I still do it. Thus, even though I told him that everything was done, he still had to go through each of my issues one by one to try to catch me out. He failed. I also had to sit through him praising and sucking up to my coworker.

Then, just as he knew I was going to set up to train my coworker on some of my responsibilities, he casually asked for a minute with her. Rather than close the door as he's done with me during 'our breakup,' he kept the door open because I was in the room next door and every word was audible. I was irritated that he knew that we were supposed to meet and he decided that this was the perfect time to talk to her about her new elevated/increased role and how a salary increase would be in order.

I'm probably taking my analogy a little too far but to me, this certainly screams, "look! I can find someone better than you! You're nothing!"

Except, in this case, it's more like: "Look, ingrate! I'm going to give her the salary increase and promotion I wasn't willing to give you because she's better!"

For the rest of the day, he ignored me and spent a lot of time joking with her.
I know that anger is a tricky stage of being dumped and it can last a while so if it goes on for a couple more days, I'm not going to be shocked.

The nice thing is that I don't care that much. It bothers me that he's acting like a child rather than a professional but on the other hand, it sends home the fact that my inevitable escape to greener pastures is a wise decision. It also, sadly, makes me want to do far less to make my departure easy than it has ever done before at any other job. I'll keep trying to be productive but if this continues, I think my motivation is going to dwindle to the point where I might end up just popping over the road to Target for a while instead of sitting at my desk.

Nevertheless, even though his behaviour is making feel like skipping around the office when I contemplate the freedom from the place that I soon will have, I'm trying to remain professional. One of us has to so it might as well be me.

Still, I can't help that tomorrow he'll move on to acceptance.

Happy Thursday!

How to Accept a Resignation Graciously

This is an open letter to all bosses, particularly mine, regarding how to accept an employees resignations with grace and diplomacy.

Dear Bosses,

I'm very sorry to hear your employee has resigned. That's not good. It's always a rough thing when that happens, particularly when it comes as rather a surprise.

However, just as a note, these things should never really come as a surprise. It might seem out of the blue when you find yourself confronted, on a Monday morning, with a resignation letter. It may blindside you temporarily because you had no idea it was coming. Yet, when you stop and look back, unless you have a very, very bad memory, chances are...there were a lot of signs that this might have been coming.

If you do have a bad memory, that's rather a nuisance, isn't it? Especially as you're in charge of people and are expected to manage them. In that case, I suggest you keep something like a journal to keep track of issues that have arisen with an employee.

For example, say an employee has been to see you four times over the past 18 months to tell you she's underutilised and feeling like she could be doing more. Wouldn't you, as a manager, find that a delight? Here is someone willing to do the work and she's not even asking for more pay! Yet, I suppose, it is a bit of a nuisance to come up with more work for this employee when you're already supervising quite a few other people and they're able to keep themselves occupied, even when it's by spending hours and hours in their coworker/friends' offices, feet up, eating candy and chatting away about family trees and the like. So, maybe you don't do anything about it and you hope that the employee finds more work to do on her own. She says she has initiative, right? Then let her prove it! I mean, just because you're a manager or even a Vice President of the company, what power do you have to find more work for an employee to do?

Then there's the issue of equipment. This same employee has had a broken chair. The back is literally disconnected from the rest of it. She complains. The chair is taken to be glued. The glue doesn't hold. The chair breaks. The employee has to sit on a crappy chair for three weeks because hers has been sent away for repair. Isn't there some logical part of you that thinks, 'well, it's just a chair. Maybe we should get her a new one!"

Oh, but why bother! It's just a chair! Just as it's just a computer when you buy brand new Mac's that cost over $1000 each for every other employee in the department but you make her keep her old Windows machine. So what if it means the people this employee works with most have to have a special version of Windows to work with her because she doesn't have the same operating system. Phooey on that!

And when the rest of the department can pick up their shiny new Macs and go work outside on a beautiful Spring/Summer/Fall day, this employee is trapped inside on her desktop PC. No big deal. She'll probably get more work done anyway while her coworker is lounging outside on the grass, not even looking at her laptop.

Another thing you probably forgot to write in your little journal because your memory is so bad, this same employee asked to go to a conference last year with her coworker. They were rejected because it cost too much. This year, the same conference was local. So you let her coworker sign up and also approve another person to go who doesn't even work for you when this other employee doesn't even know about it yet. Never mind that the two people who are going don't really both need to be going and it would actually be more beneficial to send your neglected employee.

So, when this employee who you have been treating as thought she's invisible resigns, it really shouldn't come as a surprise to you, should it? When she does resign, you should be able to look back over your memories (or your journal since your memory is horrible), and at least have some semblance of an idea that maybe there is a reason. There's probably a whole lot of reasons, only a few of which you catch as you scan through this journal you've been keeping since your memory is so bad.

Thus, when she resigns, you should say, "Oh, I'm so sorry to hear that. You've done a great job here. Congratulations."

THAT is how to accept a resignation gracefully. Since she's been gracious enough to give you two weeks notice even though it's an 'at-will' company that could fire her without any notice, you should be a little disappointed but accept her decision.

What you should not do is this:

a) Act like a boyfriend who's been dumped and ask her what you've done wrong and turn it into something personal.

b) When she tries to be professional and tell you that she 'just wanted a change', don't push and bully her into telling you more. She's trying to be diplomatic so she can leave on good terms. Then when you finally bully her and she cracks and tells you some of what's wrong, do NOT defend yourself and contradict her.

c) Ask her what you can do to change her mind. Resigning from a job with two weeks notice generally means a person has thought it over and made up her mind. If she wanted a counteroffer, she would have said, "I have another job offer. What can you do to make me want to stay here."

d) Even when she says her decision is final, scramble around and invent a position for her that you've composed from pulling various job descriptions off the internet.

e) If you do invent this position, you SHOULD offer her a raise. Chances are she won't take it but when you involve a salary, it means you're serious. What reason would she have to stay based on a quickly thrown together email of a made up job?

f) Keep calling her into your office, making her close the door and bullying her into telling you why she's leaving. She's told you.

g) When you tell her to compose an announcement to the staff, take out everything she says other than, "I'm leaving this job to take another position." When you do, do not be annoyed when she politely asks you to compose and send the email yourself.

h) Make her have to talk to 1) The outgoing president, 2) The incoming president 3) The HR manager and 4) yourself (again) within a 24 hour period in order to explain why she's leaving.

i) Ask her to postpone her start date at the new job because you've suddenly decided that her coworker is going to have to take over her work and needs to be trained. This isn't an unreasonable request but if you're asking her to postpone because said coworker is going to be at the conference you didn't even ask if the resigning employee wanted to attend for three days during the outgoing employees last week at work, it IS unreasonable.

j) Call her into your office again and make her feel guilty for leaving her job. When she breaks down and starts crying because she's just had enough and is stressed out from the way you and the upper management have been treating her, do NOT act like she's an alien from outer space. She is a human being who is embarrassed about crying. Chances are she's crying for a reason.

In conclusion, when an employee wants to resign and she's said her decision is final, for the love of all things that are good and wonderful, LET HER BLOODY WELL RESIGN!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! JUST LET HER GO!

This is how to accept a resignation graciously.

Sincerely,

Captain Monkeypants, an employee whose resignation was not accepted graciously.

Breaking Up is Hard to Do...

Today was probably one of the most draining days I've had at work in a long, long time. It wasn't supposed to be draining. Today was supposed to be a happy day. You see, I decided after less consideration than I probably ought to have given it to quit my job and take the other one that I have now officially been offered.

I walked into the office this morning. I was feeling a little nervous about telling my boss but lighthearted about the fact that after months of complaining and stressing about this job, I had finally found a way out and it looks to be a positive change.

When I got to my desk, I typed out a short, polite generic resignation letter indicating that I was giving two weeks notice as of today. I know not to put too much in writing when it comes to letters like that. The less said, the better. If they want to know why, they can do an exit interview.

By the time my boss came in, I had decided to give him a fifteen minute settling in period before I gave him my news and my letter. All went as planned. Then I went in, shut the door to his office and told him I was leaving.

It turns out that contrary to my belief that he had wind of me job seeking, he had absolutely no clue. I had blindsided him. His jaw literally looked like it dropped to his desk and for a minute, I felt like I'd kicked a puppy.

He didn't know what to say. Shock was involved. Then speechlessness and then, finally, in a slightly less confident voice than I'm used to from him, I heard him say, "I don't understand. Is it something I did?"

This is not what I expected at all. I tried to give him some of the more general reasons but I outlined why I was accepting this other job and why I was giving my notice. It wasn't good enough. It was rather a painful experience. He finally looked at me and said, "If I can come up with a better position for you here, would you consider staying?"

I knew most likely nothing was going to change my mind but he seemed...desperate. So I told him I'd definitely consider it.

What followed was a stressful morning. He instant messaged me. He called me into his office for another painfully awkward conversation. He dashed off to speak with his boss- our company president who has also resigned- and then I got an email outlining a new position and the responsibilities.

I knew as soon as I saw the email that I wasn't staying. Truth be told, my reasons for leaving are as much due to the politics and environment of the office as they are with me being bored at my job. I had told my boss that one of the reasons I was resigning is because I needed more responsibility, more control over my own work. The job description he cobbled together was a desperate attempt to appeal to that area of my request.

I spent the afternoon being almost angry with him. I've worked for him for a year and a half. I met with him no less than four times to tell him I wanted more to do. I met with our company president and told him the same. Finally, I talked to our incoming company president with the same request. Nothing. I've spent months of feeling like I'm useless at my job because I get no feedback. I watch my coworker get rewarded with projects, a Mac laptop and whatever software she needs while I sit and have to download free versions of software on my old Windows desktop.

Then, I finally quit my job and suddenly, I'm irreplaceable. I'm invaluable. I'm necessary.

I was annoyed. I had hoped my boss would express regret that I was leaving but graciously accept my decision. Instead, I spent the day feeling guilty and dishonourable because I'd let him down.

In all honesty, it felt like a rather bad breakup. I've had those before. One in particular was with a rather nice man who I liked a lot but I was too young to settle and so knowing it wasn't going to go anywhere, I broke up with him. He had no idea it was coming. He was upset. He begged me to change my mind. He asked what he'd done wrong and what he could do to fix it. I felt horrible because he was so broken.

My boss was like that today only it was the 'professional' version of a breakup. I quit my job. He doesn't understand. He wants me to give it another go because it might work out.

Finally, late in the afternoon, I was summoned to our outgoing president's office. My heart sank. My head was already pounding from the stress of dealing with my bosses attempts to awkwardly communicate. Nevertheless, I trudged down to his office, waiting for yet another promise of improvement and fulfillment of my professional needs.

To my intense pleasure, it turned out to be a great conversation. Having resigned himself, our president understood that my decision wasn't just due to job dissatisfaction. He understood how stressful it's been to have entered a company during a time of turmoil- being sold, being merged, moving, being renamed, etc. He understood my need to get away from an office where, while I like most of the staff, the cliques, gossip and favouritism was too much for me. He understood that, sometimes, you just know when it's time to move on.

I felt much better when I was done talking to him. So much better that I went straight to my bosses office and told him the decision was final and that, while I enjoyed working for him, it was time for me to make a change.

He took it...ok. He was clearly surprised I didn't cave to his counteroffer but I think he knew he'd lost before that really.

I feel right about my decision. A wise friend of mine, Ms. P who is down in Texas, compared my job situation to one of my favourite Christmas movies- "The Holiday." It's a romantic comedy about two women who swap houses and find love. Specifically, she compared me to Kate Winslet's character who has been in love with a man for years. She's done everything for him, tried to make him love her but she was just a square peg trying to fit in a round hole and he can't appreciate her for the great woman she is. She leaves him and he finally realizes what he's lost yet our heroine, Ms. Winslet, realizes she deserves better than that and leaves him for good.

In this case, my situation isn't a man but a job. I've tried for two years to fit into the company. I've worked hard. I've done everything I can to be a good employee and yet I've felt as though I'm stuck in my cupboard under the stairs, underappreciated and invisible. Then, when I finally decide to leave and move on with my life, the company realizes what it's losing and begs me to stay.

Well, like Kate Winslet's character in that film, I think I finally found the gumption to move on with my life. I'm not sure what the future holds but I have a strong feeling it's going to be better. If nothing else it's a new opportunity.

I never thought I'd say it but I'd like to thank the Most Optimistic Bathroom in the World for dispensing some wise advice: "Live for Today for your Life is Now."

Of course, my guess is that when our CEO picked out those signs, she didn't intend them to inspire us to quit our jobs.

Ah well. The deed is done.

Happy Tuesday (and thanks for reading!)

De-Leafing Puppies and Adventures in Sponsored Walking

Here we are again on a Sunday evening after another whirlwind weekend. It's a dreary Sunday night. It's been cloudy all day with the vague threat of rain. It actually just started raining but it's that slow type of rain that just dampens the world outside rather than make it wet. The leaves are falling a little quicker as they're weighted down with the dampness.

It means that the wet leaves will be easier to tread inside, especially when puppies are involved. Given that I spent the day cleaning my house from top to bottom, it's Murphy's Law that we get this rain that will allow my pups to bring the outside indoors merely by running around the garden.

Of my two puppies, it's Rory who I affectionately refer to as my "messy little sod." If there's a puddle, Rory will be the one in the middle of it. If there's a pile of leaves, Rory will dive. If there's a place to dig, Rory will be the one with dirt covering her from head to toe. Sookie is one of the perpetually tidy dogs. Even when she digs, the dirt doesn't stick to her. She doesn't get the leaves trapped in her coat the way Rory does and while she doesn't mind getting a little wet, she doesn't stick her head in my parents' fish pond the way Rory does.

Today, we decided to take an autumn walk over at the park we went to before. It briefly was sunny this morning and blue sky peeked through. It was at this time I decided we should take the walk. Naturally, by the time we got to the park, the sun had gone, the blue sky had vanished and the murky threat of rain loomed overhead.

Still, we walked. For a few moments. Then we suddenly saw crowds and crowds of people walking towards us. I'm talking hundreds of people, snaking their way along our trail. It turns out we had decided to take our walk on the same day there was some type of massive, multiple charity sponsored walk.

We bravely kept walking. It wasn't terribly fun. One of the reasons I take the girls to the park is because I'm trying to socialize them slowly with other dogs and other people. Sookie tends to be rather skittish around strangers and barks a lot when she's nervous. Today was a bad day to try to slowly socialize the girls. It was like being thrown in the deep end and hoping not to drown. At first, Sookie panicked. She woofed and ran around, frightened and worried. By the time we were embedded in the crowd, both she and Rory were clearly just trying to keep their heads above water. I'm all for charity and sponsored walks but it was a little frustrating because the trail is divided into two paths, one for people coming one way and one for the people coming the other. We were walking against the crowd but we were frequently bumped off the path of the trail so that we had somewhere to walk because at times there were up to seven people all trying to walk side by side.

Rory and Sookie were very popular. I can't count the amount of people who exclaimed, "Aw, look at the weiner dogs!" or "AWWWWWWWWW!". It was good for the girls' egos except I think they were just trying not to go mad in the throng of the crowds.

We finally got to the place we found last time we walked there. It's an outcropping over the lake that is a detour from the trail. I took the girls there and, thankfully, we were alone. I sat the girls down, made a fuss of them and gave them some treats and water. It seemed to really help calm them down. We waited until the passing crowd had thinned out and we started back up. We were lapped by some of the same people who'd already passed us but it was much easier after that. By the time we got to the girls' favourite area which is another trail bypass, we were back to being alone in our walk. Their favourite area is by another small lake. There's an actual walking path but we prefer to ignore that and, instead, cut through the trees and explore.

The girls were in heaven then. They found piles and piles of leaves in which to dive. There's a dried up stream that's full of rocks. We normally walk around but today, the pups had scented something and were on the hunt. They wanted to ford the dry stream so I let them. It's much easier for a puppy than a human, it seems. I had a bit of trouble on the rocks but we made it through.

Then Rory decided to dive into yet another pile of leaves. Sookie followed. Rory emerged covered head to tail with burrs. They clung to her ears, her tail and her belly. Sookie emerged...burrless. I tried to pick the burrs off Rory but a couple of them were tangled in the long hair of her ears and there was no way to get them off without cutting them out.

Still, by the time we were done, the puppies seemed happy. Their eyes gleamed with the thrill of the hunt and my own cheeks were red from the wind and the effort. It turned out to be a lovely walk in the end even if it was a bit of a nightmare in the beginning.

When I got home, I attended to Rory's burrs. I also untangled the leaves from her fur. Sookie, of course, had no such issues.

Now we're home on a wet Sunday evening. It's a perfect stay-at-home type of night. It's the type of night in which you want to curl up with two puppies, watch some TV and enjoy the fact that it's Fall.

Of course, I'll have to inspect Rory first to make sure she's not carrying any debris before we curl up. Oh, my messy little sod.

I wouldn't swap her for the world.

Happy Monday

Visions of Fridays Dance in My Head

I think I've said before that I like Thursdays as a general rule. I find them akin to Christmas Even where you know the 'big day' is next but the anticipation of that is almost as sweet as the actual day of Christmas itself.

In this case, the 'big day' is simply Friday. While we still have to work on Fridays, they're like the reward at the end of the week. Things are a little more relaxed. People talk more on Fridays. The day goes by quickly, mostly because I have a lot of meetings on Fridays for some reason.

As not a huge fan of meetings, I don't mind meetings on Friday afternoons, particularly when they involve my boss. He's very easily distractable and clearly has a case of the 'wanting to escape early and start the weekend off right.'

So, pretty much, in a way, Fridays are part of the weekend because you know how matter how rough they are, there are two beautiful days of freedom just beyond the rise.

Today was a good Thursday. I had a couple of meetings which weren't too bad. I find that I tend to doodle a lot more in some meetings than others. Doodling, for me, is almost like meditation. I have to doodle in order to listen. As my pencil sketches odd designs and things on the page, my mind is listening to what people are saying.

Today, my doodles were off odd things. I drew a superhero who was an owl, two large evil looking pumpkins. Then I attempted to sketch a piece of corn. I don't mean the sweetcorn you buy in the supermarket, it was the type of corn that looks like wheat, that they make into flower. In England, when you see a corn field, there's no sweetcorn to be found. Instead it's rows and rows of green or golden sheaves, depending on the month, waving in the wind.

This is the corn I grew up with. My older brother used to go off to the corn fields to get up to mischief with his friends. They'd play in the fields, hiding from one another when the corn was high enough. When it was harvest season, they'd use the haystacks made from the dried corn stalks as objects in which to dive.

In our art classes, we'd have to draw pieces of this corn, capturing each kernel just right. Nowadays, while I remember in my mind how it looks, my pencil can no longer remember how to sketch it. It was sad. I used to know how to nest each kernel so it actually looked like corn. Now it looks rather bloated and more like a Christmas tree.

I was a little worried about this, whether it meant I was losing some of my Englishness. I compensated by making sure I could still remember how to make the pound sign. I don't mean that crosshatch thing you see on phone keypads, I mean the UK monetary type of pound sign. Fortunately, I could without any thought at all.

Thus, my meetings passed quickly. I like it when that happens. Doodling is good for making sure you're not so bored you start visualizing stabbing people in the eye with your pencil.

In addition to my meetings, we also had cake. I'm not a big fan of cake but today I was in the mood for a piece. My piece had plenty of frosting on it and clearly, I was in the mood for that more than cake because I realized that I'd slowly eaten all of that and left part of the cake. That's unusual for me. I'm not usually a cake eater at all.

I also had a meeting with the man who interviewed me last week. I was offered the job I interviewed for. At the moment, I'm 98% sure I'm ready for the change since the salary and benefits package met my requirements. All I need is the formal offer from the company which I'm supposed to get tomorrow.

The prospect of this change is both exciting and a little scary. I like this new company. People there seemed genuinally to like their jobs. Having been involved in a series of candidate interviews for a programmer position we have at work, I've had the chance to be on both sides of the interview process over the past two weeks. You can tell when someone is genuinely excited about their job. I don't think many people in our company are. In this new company, three of the four employees have been there over ten years. That says a lot.

I may change my mind but it's a lovely feeling to go into my Friday with this opportunity on my mind. It will help me focus on my current job and truly decide if I want to leave or whether the new opportunity is too great to pass up. I suggest the latter but I want time to sleep on it and make absolutely sure it's the right thing for me.

For now, I have that and the pleasure of it being Friday tomorrow. The weekend is wide open at the moment with no firm plans. It will give me plenty of time to do some serious thinking so that, by Monday, I will know for sure.

Then again, I have several meetings tomorrow. Maybe I should use those as my thinking time instead.

We'll see how it goes.

Happy Friday!

Autumn Walks

It's different walking the dogs in the autumn. It's a whole different world out there to the world of the summer that was here just a couple of weeks ago.

The streets look different in their covering of leaves. Now that the calendar has officially changed seasons and Summer has decided to take a step back from her steady heat, hot sun and dry earth, the leaves are falling with a vengeance. The pavement is covered with them and as we walk along, the crisp crunch sounds under our feet.

The puppies, of course, are in heaven. They like to stick their nose in a pile of leaves and then lift it back up vigorously and with a tilt. This sends the leaves flying in all directions. Better yet, Rory has taken to divebombing piles of leaves if she has the space and the speed. It's rather cute. She usually manages to shake off the leaves that are clinging to her fur after a few steps down the street.

Sookie tends to be more thoughtful about it. She waits for Rory to explore leave piles first and then when Rory's done her thing, Sookie has a good sniff.

Autumn also means that people are spending a little less time outside in the evenings. It gets dark much earlier now and so we have to walk earlier. There are still some people outside, starting the process of clearing the dried up flowers from summer or sweeping their driveways free from leaves but, mostly, it's a lot quieter than it was during the summer.

We still see a few neighbours but not as many as we did. It's been ages since I saw Larry the Potential Serial Killer. I don't mind too much because he was always a bit odd but it makes our walks a little more solitary when we don't see anyone.

What we are seeing is squirrels. There are squirrels galore on our walk. Our favourite spot to see them is what I have deemed the "Mothership." This is a giant oak tree in someone's garden in which at least a couple of squirrels can be found gathering their acorns for the winter. The ground beneath the oak is messy with squashed and flattened acorns, whole acorns, twigs and leaves. There are even the leavings of squirrels who clearly decided to sample the wears before gathering food for the winter storage.

Naturally, Rory and Sookie go balistic at the sight of the squirrels. They still have yet to figure out that dogs can't climb trees, even when said dog is in pursuit of a squirrel. I'm just glad I have sturdy leashes and harnesses on the hounds because otherwise, I'd have lost them to the Mothership days ago.

The other thing that's different is that the neighbourhood is starting to look decidedly adorned for Halloween. Ghosts, witches and black cats are popping up all over the place. They hang from porches, lampposts, shepherd's crooks. There's a problem with the black cats, I'm finding. While my puppies are adorable and can be quite crafty and sneaky, they're not always the brightest. Thus, they have yet to figure out that the black cats aren't actually alive. The worst are in a garden just down the street. They're just the silhouettes of the cat. They're lifesized. To a human, they're clearly not real. To a puppy well...I imagine since they haven't had that much interaction with cats, they do look real. They clearly look real enough to merit my dogs going into hunting mode. This means that the leash suddenly goes taut, their ears go up and they're poised, ready to make a dash for it. This has now happened several times. They've yet to learn that they're not real.

I don't really mind. It makes the walk fun and I quite like having a pattern. I do like seeing all the decorations popping up. I have yet to wind my own garland of silk autumn leaves around my little lamppost in the front garden and my little scarecrows aren't outside yet. This weekend I hope to add my own festive display to the others in the neighbourhood.

I think I'll avoid black cats though. I can only imagine the constant chaos if the puppies were to see them.

It's bad enough with the squirrels.

Happy Thursday!

Conversations With Our Old Selves...

Have you ever looked back over a span of your life and wished you could have a conversation with your [X] year-old self?

Tonight I did that. I was scouring my shelves for a notebook in which I could jot some ideas to inspire my latest novel and I came across one in which I haven't written for years.

For a while, I went through a phase where I asked for notebooks and journals as gifts. As a result, I have an eclectic collection that is emblazoned from everything from "Buffy the Vampire Slayer," to a cute toddler dressed in fairy clothing.

Tonight, I pulled out a random notebook. In it, I found a "journal" entry from 1999. I say "journal" because it's clear, back then, I intended to keep track of my life. Unfortunately, my attempts were from New Years' Eve through New Years' Day of that year. After that, there's a couple of blank pages and then a list of "Why I'm grateful I moved to Los Angeles."

It reminded me that I'm fond of lists. Sometimes it's nice to see things in black and white, even though life is rarely that simple. Today, for example, I was told that the job for which I interviewed could be mine. It's going to be offered to me on Thursday when I meet with my interviewer to discuss the compensation package.

It seems so simple. I've been miserable at my current job and thus, this new one should be a blessing in disguise...right? And yet, as I stated yesterday, things things are never that simple. Just as I found a lifeline out of the office that has caused much of my misery over the past year or more, I was offered a lifeline within that office. My boss finally recognized that I had aspirations and hopes. It only took two years.

So now I stand at a crossroads. Do I dive into an unknown future or do I sit, comfortably, on the present past?

The nice thing is that it may be simpler than I'm making it. The new job may end up being of a salary that is too low for me to contemplate. It may offer the hope of commission-based earnings but the base salary may be too hard for me to contemplate in the bill-owing reality of my world.

Or, it may be hard. It may be a job I feel suited for and the salary may be comparable to mine. In which case, my dilemma from yesterday of the devil I know vs. the devil I don't may be relevant.

It's hard to tell. Yet, tonight, when I came across my list from 1999, I was reminded of the simplicity of life. In 1999, I was 24 years old. I had recently read "Bridget Jones' Diary," and so I wrote without pronouns. I wrote feverishly, spilling the secrets of my singleton status as though the diary were my wine-saturated best friend.

I had written the entry on New Years' Eve, 1999. It turns out, I went to see a movie, specifically, "The Talented Mr. Ripley," with my best friend, Saz. I had a good time. Yet, I was clearly searching for the meaning of my life. I was clearly contemplating a move to L.A., a digression from the Midwest to the West Coast. I was contemplating writing a screenplay. I had written, in my own words, "Probably should write a screenplay or something. No point in saying I'm a writer if I don't write."

That was more than 10 years ago. These days, I've been to L.A. and back. I've gone through my resentment of the Midwest and turned, full circle, into being grateful for the simplicity of the Midwest.

I did write a screenplay. I wrote several. Then I wrote television scripts. Then I wrote novels.

Three major feature film scripts, seven television scripts and nine and a half novels later, here I am, back in the Midwest. I think I can safely say I'm a writer, even if my book sales don't agree as much as I wish they would.

It's interesting. Once you get to a certain age, you stop living life minute by frenzied minute. Life slows down and yet speeds up at the same time. You start noticing the small, simple details of life and yet you realize they start passing you by more quickly than they ever have before.

It's been just over ten years. In that time, I've grown from being a dreamer to being a realist. The dreamer in me still exists. I still hope that sales of The Reluctant Demon will increase, that people will realize it's worth the time, even if it has no deep level of significance. It's fun. I still dream that the right person will stumble upon my book or, even, this blog and realize I'm an imprisoned talent trapped in a mundane life.

And yet, the realist speaks louder. The realist has realized that while the dreams are important and even necessary, the reality of life...is now. I may dream of being respected, famous, quoted and respected but, in reality, I exist. I have a house which makes me concrete. I have puppies, which makes me responsible. I write fiction, which makes me creative. I have a job, which also makes me responsible.

I think back then, in 1999, I was still young enough to believe that it was ok to shoot for the stars. These days, I see the stars and look at them with a fondness. I've been there, in a way. I did manage to get the idea to write a novel. I finished that novel. I enjoyed that novel. Then I wrote eight more.

When I step back, I can see that the mere fact that I finished one novel is an accomplishment. I forget that sometimes. In my life, I've always been consistent. In school, I worked hard and got good grades. It was expected of me. In life, it's been expected that I'll make my own way and not rely on others. That, too, is expected.

Sometimes, it's hard to remember that the things that come easiest to us, come hardest to others. Those that know us come to expect that greatness, even "decentness" is an everyday thing. For me, I look at the novels I've written and I see only a series of stories, of characters, of events that are tied together only because I created them. I forget that the simple act of creating them isn't as easy as it seems to me. Once I wrote one book, the rest seemed to be simple.

Then I look back at the journal entry that I wrote on 12-31-99 and I see that, back then, the mere idea of even one novel wasn't even a seed in my mind.

It's amazing how life changes. Some people plan it. Others take it as it comes. Me, I try to plan it but I'm willing to change course if it feels right. In 1999, it seemed right to move my life across the country, 2000 miles away. It seemed right to want to think about writing something.

These days, in 2010, I'm back in the place I abandoned- the autumnal world of the Midwest. I thought about writing and I did it. I wrote about a character who was a hacker and, because I like to be thorough, my research led me to a career in software.

And, so, here I am. I wonder, if I could talk to my Bridget Jones inspired self, whether I'd tell her anything different. Would I change the course of our lives, just to live for another dream?

It's hard to say. Because, when I look back at that Captain Monkeypants' aspirations, writing was my dream, moving across the country was my dream. I accomplished both.

Life is a series of nested dreams. I think it's up to us to decide if we should look at it as a whole, a horizon of unaccomplished wants or as a series of successes, of small conquests that have helped us keep moving forward.

I think it's safer to look at the small conquests. That way, we allow life to keep us flexible. It allows us to go with the flow rather than resolutely say, "No, I won't have that."

It also allows us to deal with life when it says, "No, you shan't have that," even when we think we should.

All in all, I think I'd talk to my ten-years-ago self and tell her that it's ok to have dreams. It's ok to try to accomplish them. If we fail, so be it. If we succeed, power to us. It's about the trying that counts.

And we did that. We're doing that. That's what makes life...life...right?

Happy Wednesday!