As clear as mud

Mud Puddle
Yesterday I met with my direct manager and we talked about how frustrated I feel at not having clear deliverables, NEVER MIND a mandate. Bottom line is, I miss being a technical writer. Very much. I am no longer a technical writer at my organization because my organization decided I should be a process analyst. But my organization doesn’t know what this title means, entails, or works toward. I have been patient since last September when my position here changed, knowing the organization is in flux, changing to meet modern business demands and rearranging staff accordingly. I am but a cog in a giant machine and I am at the mercy of my employer; I know this. But even a Plebe needs to know where she is headed and what is expected of her.

So far, my manager is asking for my continued patience as our organization sorts everything out, and to trust him during this process. I have great respect for my manager and I know that’s a rarity these days. He is smart and honourable, so for now I will keep my eyes open for a new job even though I don’t want to leave this place. I am nothing if not shrewd and I need to look after my career. I have many people depending on me making a decent living with good medical benefits and I take that responsibility very seriously.

Today I found out a guy died who I grew up with. He was 4 years older than me and so we weren’t friends, but we knew each other, moved in the same circles, and curled (the great Canadian sport) at the local curling club. Our parents were friends too. He died at age 46, which is a sobering thought (not that I’m not already sober, it being a workday and not even noon).

Yes yes yes time is fleeting. We need to appreciate and make the most of the time we have on this earth but does anyone really take this advice to heart? No one my age seriously believes they will die young (and I consider dying before you are 75 young), because even though we are no longer in our 20s we still believe we are immortal, special somehow. As if our spotty exercise routine and occasional nutritional observance is enough to create an immunity against cancers, heart problems and a myriad of other health issues that befall us frail human beings.

Last week, to help us ready our house for sale, a stager came to give advice on furniture arrangement etc. Her first baffled question was “Why are you moving?!” I gave her the simplest answer – we can make money on this sale and put a serious amount of cash in the bank, with which I will invest in something else. I understand my time to make money and create financial security is limited; and although I plan to live long enough to enjoy the fruits of my labour, I agree with the adage “make hay while the sun shines” and I take it to heart. On that point at least, I’m clear.

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