9:14 a.m. - 2004-11-19
A juxtaposition close to home
This morning I woke up to a fresh glass of ice water on my night stand, a birthday card embelished with a "jail bus" and policemen carrying cakes and little cards beautifully illustrated in crayon; and a new blouse which I wore to work today. How great is that? When I got downstairs, I had my choice of bagels with lox, cream cheese, capers and onions (my favorite breakfast of all time) or raisin toast. And spouse and I are trying to meet for lunch today (he bought cheese, pate, fresh bread and figs) and tonight he's making home-made pizza (which will save us some eating out money) How lucky am I!!!
It is wierd at work because this is just about the first job I've ever had where people didn't make a fuss about birthdays, and three of the four people I supervise are out today. The remaining employee is on the warpath with the organization because he feels he is being treated unfairly, and despite two attempts (before me) to fire him, the university HR office wouldn't let them do so because this person is in a protected minority. That is all I will say about that.
So the point of this is what - that I am not allowing myself to be satisfied with the birthday greetings I got from spouse and Andy? Probably, but it illustrates for me how different this job is from others. I've been here several months, but no one wants to make connections here. I have friends I see/talk with regularly from my job 20 years ago and a whole hemisphere away. I socialize with my colleagues from my last three jobs. But this is not that kind of place. Who knows why?
Heard the best report on NPR today, by the Kitchen Sisters, it was all about the WPA Writers' project which conducted research on the kinds of foods people ate, and the regional cooking and its influences. My favorite quote "I have visited sorrow's kitchen and done licked out all the pots." -- Zora Neal Hurston, an African American female writer who worked on the WPA project.
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