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.::Blogger Archives by Date::.
Friday, November 30, 2001
RIF. The last day of November marked Joyce and Paul's last day of employment in our office. Our organization, a monolithic pseudo-government agency, did not come out of 9-11 unscathed. Our Contractor budget was cut tremendously and the hard decisions had to be made. We had known about this for a couple of weeks now, but I didn't make mention of it here. It's hard to be in denial when you're writing about it in your journal. So I was silent on the issue here, writing only in invisible ink.
Throughout the day, I watched as Joyce went through her files, cleaned her desk and bequeathed her office supplies to me. People came and gave her hugs and well-wishes and all I could do was occupy myself behind my computer, hoping that I wouldn't get emotional. There were so many times throughout the course of the day that I stopped and thought, after Monday, things will be different. Bad different. Joyce's desk will lay vacant. My confidante will no longer be a few paces away from my open cubicle. I will miss her terribly.
Yesterday, we had an Aloha Party for our two RIF'd comrades. All day, I had this sick, nauseated feeling in my stomach which caused a serious case of the runs. (Yes, I know, TMI!) I think it was because of all of the anxiety about Joyce's departure that caused my stomach to go into chaos. Being the wonderful friend that she is, she ran to the nearest mini-mart and bought me some chewable Pepto-Bismol tablets so that I could go on with my day and not have to move my computer into the 3rd stall of the ladies' restroom. She always comes to my rescue. Who will come to my rescue now?
At the end of the day, we walked out together. She told me ahead of time that she wouldn't be saying "good-bye" to me. I agreed, trying to make light of it saying that I would see her next week Wednesday anyway. Something about the finality of the sentiment would surely make basket cases out of the both of us.
I put my sunglasses on before we walked out of the office. She stopped before the door at the IN/OUT board with all of our names on it. "Signing out for the last time," she said as she moved the bright pink happy face marker precisely into the OUT square next to her name. She always made sure that the marker was perfectly inside the box. Today was no exception.
As we walked out with her boxes of personal affects, I could already feel my heart breaking. Martin and I put her boxes in the trunk and she said her goodbyes to him.
"I'm not saying bye to you, Donna. I'm starting to cry already. Okay, I'm going inside my car now..." she hurriedly closed her trunk and headed toward her door.
"I'll call you early next week," she said.
All I could mutter was, "Okay," my voice wavering and tears welling up behind my sunglasses.
We both waved. I walked away, toward my car, tears rolling down my cheeks. I promised her that I wouldn't get emotional. Well, at least she didn't have to witness it.
I'm going to miss her terribly.
My consolation is that she lives only 15-minutes from my house. We can still see one another -- although, maybe not 40 hours a week.
Rodney always has words of wisdom for my dilemmas. Here's what he wrote today in an e-mail: "...stay strong, and don't think of missing Joyce, but instead remember all the good times you both shared. There will be more."
Yes, there will be many more...
posted by Donna, 11/30/2001 08:22:50 PM
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Thursday, November 29, 2001
More invisible ink flows...
posted by Donna, 11/29/2001 11:12:00 PM
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Wednesday, November 28, 2001
I just had an epiphany: It's past 10:30 pm and I'm still awake. I should be sleeping. Goodnight.
posted by Donna, 11/28/2001 10:37:11 PM
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My phone line is dead. I called the phone company to repair the line and they said that a technician might not be able to come by until Friday. They gave me a service guarantee of Friday, 9:00 pm. If I don't get dialtone by then, I can file a claim for a service credit. The customer service rep didn't tell me how much the credit would be. It's probably something piddly like five bucks or something.
But in the meantime, I have no working home phone. Well, at least between Hubby and I, we have 3 cellular phones. So if you're trying to call me and are getting a busy signal, it's not because I've suddenly decided to switch from broadband to dial-up... it's because my phone is dead.
Goodness gracious. I just realized something. Imagine if I were still on dial-up and had this phone problem! I wouldn't be able to get on the Internet for days! That would certainly be the death of me. I love you, RoadRunner!
posted by Donna, 11/28/2001 10:36:04 PM
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The invisible ink pen was busy tonight. It doesn't appear that the inkwell will be drying up anytime soon. Oh, the drama.
posted by Donna, 11/28/2001 10:15:25 PM
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It has been a while, hasn't it?
We had our first rainstorm in a long time. From Monday thru Tuesday, we got 4.43 inches of rain in a 24-hour period in my town. That's quite a bit for my neighborhood, being that I live in a somewhat drier area. The storm lasted for a few days and now it's pretty much dried up, but the humidity is lingering. It's hovering somewhere around 90% right now.
On Monday around twilight, as I was leaving the office for home, I remember walking through the parking lot to my car and I had a feeling almost like deja vu... The weather, the way the air felt on my skin, the way the sky looked... it literally whisked me away to Okinawa. For a brief moment, I really felt as if I was standing there on Kokusai Dori. The humidity was high and the air was warm despite the sun setting. Although it's not quite the most comfortable weather to experience, it gave me the warmest feelings and made me long to visit Okinawa again.
posted by Donna, 11/28/2001 09:08:31 PM
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Sunday, November 25, 2001
t.u.p. Richie has his own web site! It's called t.u.p. -- short for "the uzagaku project." Richie is the columnist for the Uchina Pop! Culture e-Zine -- which he single-handedly provides content for. He's extremely knowledgeable about Okinawa/Uchina Pop, J-Pop, and the Japanese/Okinawan entertainment scene! Go check out his site and drop him a line -- he's looking for some feedback!
posted by Donna, 11/25/2001 08:00:37 PM
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Buying in Bulk. It's sad how easy it is to drop 200+ bucks at Sam's Club. Today's tab would've been pushing $300 if I hadn't put away some items before I headed for the check-out stand -- experiencing buyer's remorse even before I bought it. (That's the best kind of buyer's remorse because it saves you the time and trouble of coming back to the store to return it later.)
So many must-haves which are more like "wants" -- hardly ever a "need." I often have to gaze into my shopping cart (full to the brim) and ask myself, "do I really need this?" I often end up putting a lot of items back on the shelves. Then I feel better, knowing that I "saved" myself some money by doing so. But then, I go to the cashier and have to write out the check for *cough* two-hundred-something-dollars-and-a-pocketfull-of-change and it doesn't seem like I "saved" that much money after all. Shopping at Wholesale Membership Stores is supposed to save you money, right? (If you're in Amway, don't say it. I've already heard the schpiel -- several times.)
Oh well, the allure of Costco and Sam's Club still has a hold on me. There's something satisfying about buying stuff in BULK. Having 10 cans of tuna, 12 bars of soap, 36 rolls of toilet paper -- and the list goes on... It's strangely comforting to have all of this stuff stockpiled in my kitchen, closet and hallway. So my house looks like a virtual Red Cross shelter, but that's okay. I'm hoping that I won't have to visit Sam's or Costco at least for another 4 weeks. Going more often than that will surely send me into bankruptcy.
Am I the only one with this problem? We need to start a support group for this sort of thing.
posted by Donna, 11/25/2001 04:54:30 PM
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I spent the better part of the afternoon digging a hole into the heel of my left foot. This is what happens when you walk around outside in the concrete laundry area with bare feet and step on some unknown sharp object that gets lodged into your skin. Self-inflicted pain is the worst kind.
Mental Note: Next time, wear slippers.
posted by Donna, 11/25/2001 04:36:24 PM
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