I had intimate relations of the canine variety for 8 hours at work today. Fack. Some days. I was considering cutting off a finger in order to go home.Met up with C to rehash our respective races: he did the Diez Vistas - a 50k trail race; and, well, if I have to repeat the race that I just did you ought not read this blog.
I got nothin'. I've been eating and drinking too much and need to put an end to that as I'm developing the neatest little Buddha belly you ever did see. I'm kind of intrigued by it because it's such an anomaly, but the novelty is fast wearing off.
Today, at work, I had a chat with a coworker (she's done Ironman and she loves me because I'm a runner) and she asked me how I ended up at my current place of employment. See, no one gets a job at this place unless they know someone. And I'm not even kidding. So I said that I had actually responded to an ad in the Vancouver Sun.
This got me thinking. Here I am with a four day a week, unionized, pensioned job in the middle of a recession. And I'm wondering how many people applied for this particular job which came up just as the mass layoffs started happening?
Were there 200 resumes? 300? 500? And I got called in. And I SUCKED at the advanced Excel course and I cheated on the math portion of the test (I used the calculator on my cell phone because no one could be expected to reasonably complete the questions in the allotted time). And I got called back for a second interview, which I bumped, because I wanted to go to an interview for another job I wanted. And then, in the interview, I nailed it, cause either I'm on or I'm not and that day I was on (likely cause I was hungover and was tired and had ceased to care). They checked my references (which glow like the facking sun) and I got the job almost immediately.
My point being, again, how many people wanted this job? It's a dream job. The pay is good, the hours are phenomenal and the benefits are stellar. Everyone wanted this job. And I got it. And I got a condo and I qualified for Boston and then ran Boston and the elevator doors often open for me when I open the doors to the lobby in the same fashion that the street lights would light up in front of me when I was running around Kerrisdale at night.
I have a horseshoe. I know this. The powers of the horseshoe are beyond question.
But. I also think that sometimes the horseshoe tries to guide me in certain directions and when I fight against the guiding forces of the horseshoe crappy things happen.
Yeah. I had a weiiiiird convo with, of all the people in the facking world, my ex: Typewriter. And he said to me "just be and the universe will readjust itself to accommodate you". Yeah. I know, right?
The point being that I need to get back on the karmic path which, in some regards, I've been rallying against (and yes, this goes back to an earlier post I had where I mentioned that my ego's been running rampant, which is never helpful) because fate or kismet or whatever the hell it is has been giving me pretty strong clues as of late and I keep ignoring them, only to experience negative results.
So yeah. Esoteric enough for you? Would you like me to be more vague?
Happy weekend, kiddies.
3 comments:
If you wanna go home from work just do what we do.... swine flu.
You have more than ONE lucky horseshoe, you have a whole barn full. Would you pick me some lotto numbers? If I win I'll buy you something... promise.
Here's a REALLY weird story for ya. I was sleeping one night (as I like to do) and I dreamed about the lottery and the 5 or 6 numbers that they were calling out (goes to show you how often I play it). Anyways, I wake up and I couldn't remember all the numbers in my dream, but I wrote down the first 3 that I could remember and I played them in the next lotto and won $10.
Basically I need to work on my memory cause if I had remembered the other numbers I would be blogging to you from my villa in France....
So that's why you should pick me some numbers. When I say I'll make you socks, don't I make you socks? I do what I say I'm gona do. Pick 'em.
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