The Great Exhale

Well, now that that is over with, I think I can have a good weekend without anything weighing heavily on my mind. It seems like it wasn't that long ago that I wrote a similar type of test, which got me where I am today (in the job sense, not in the "I'm 34 with a wife, two kids, and a house that used to have two mice in it). To say I was completely prepared would be a falsehood, though I think I held my own on the topics I knew.  I wrote profusely and prolifically, and at one time during the 2.5 hour test, I considered that perhaps I was blogging. Trust me when I tell you I went back to check my grammar and didn't once construct a paragraph that had more parenthetical remarks than non, nor did I feel the urge to talk. like. this.

I did give them a little sass, though. Let's hope my candor is appreciated by the scorers. Hey, they asked for someone with good written communication. I can do that, right? Hey! You! I'm talking over here!

That's better.

I haven't completely forgotten what I went through this morning; I'm not convinced it's all going to come up roses (despite the copious quantities of bullshit involved).  I am not hoping for anything magnificent to come of it. Truth be told, when I found out that there were six others about to join me in the room, I could have packed up and left immediately; I felt that confident, folks. I don't always enjoy competition in this sense.

So now what? I suppose I go back to the everyday-ordinary. The grind. But perhaps it's time for a new outlook. Time to stop letting work be a matter of endurance, "that thing I do between the hours of 9 and 5 and for which all I bring home is a short fuse and emotional exhaustion." How will I do this? How will I achieve this personal renaissance? No clue. But tonight I've told myself it's just not going to matter.

It's the weekend. While there's no turkey on the table in this country, there's still plenty to do. The kids are going to meet the Fat Man tomorrow and see a gigantic tree lit up down town tomorrow night, and between US Thanksgiving, the Vanier Cup*, and the Grey Cup**, there's no shortage of football on the tube. Then the weekend will be over. And five days after that, I'm on vacation.  

And here's a little present for all of you. It's November 23rd, which means you only have to go through 7 more daily posts from me before I can go back to my twice (ha!) weekly postings that consist of slightly more than top of the brain drivel. Unless you enjoy that kind of thing, in which case, I'm so sorry. Because even though I haven't heard anyone talking about Holidailies this year, I'm certainly not going to attempt it.

Happy Thanksgiving, America. (I know, that was yesterday.) Enjoy all your football and your shopping and your napping.

 

*Go Huskies, you crazy underdogs, you!

** I have to cheer for the Riders, just so that I can someday tell the story of watching an entire Toronto Argonauts game with Mihira Lakshman in my party, only to find out later that evening that the insane Saskatchewan fan who was taunting the fans of the home team was actually one of the first radio personalities I can remember hearing when I moved here. Huh, maybe I don't need to tell that story after all.

Posted bythemikestand at 3:58 PM  

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