May 1, 2013 § Leave a comment
So it’s been a rough week. Yes, I realize it’s only Wednesday. I won’t go too deep into it because I need to stop fixating, but the biggest things are that 1. one of my closest friends’ uncle was quite unexpectedly diagnosed with cancer and will likely not make it through the summer and 2. I’ve been informed that my job at the museum will end with the end of May. It’s not just that I won’t be in the position anymore, but the entire position is being terminated, which doesn’t bode well for the future of the department and the already-pathetically-low morale of the office. Again, I’m not going to go too deep into it, but let’s just say, the department (specifically our boss) keeps shooting herself and the museum in the foot with every poor decision she makes, and they tend to be happening more and more lately. The museum itself has lost a lot of people this year already, and more are leaving or looking for new jobs. It’s incredibly depressing because I think the city really needs the museum and I think there’s huge potential there, but it’s a very dysfunctional work environment to such an unbearable level that the museum is basically bleeding people. I think almost every department except Prep has lost at least one person or more since I’ve been there.
Anyway, the point is that I need a new job much sooner than I was expecting. If I get the Dallas internship (I’ve done two interviews already), then I’ll still have to find a job for the summer in order to continue to support myself (and hopefully save money for the move to Texas). It’s hard to find temporary work like that, but I feel confident that I’ll find something. I always do!
With that in mind, I can admit that I’m also considering making a very irresponsible decision. Things have been rough… for the last… few years. Things have just been rough. Life without Cleo has been incredibly challenging, not just because she was my rock, but because I’ve always had dogs. Over my entire 25 years of existence, I’ve only been without a dog for a few months, including the almost-month since Cleo’s passing. As desperate as it sounds, I need that joy that dogs bring to my life. I really need that consistency, that routine, and that happiness and companionship that dogs offer. I need it now more than ever. This year is full of mystery. Everything that I keep planning or hoping for gets flushed down the toilet, and the good things in my life are complicated. I want something simple, something I know will last for the next ten years.
So I’m going to look at dogs this weekend. If there isn’t the “perfect” pup, then I won’t bring anyone home (I don’t want just any dog. You know me, I’m picky.) I feel a twinge of discomfort because I know that it’s clearly an irresponsible move given my currently blank future and lack of long-term employment. I can already see the looks on my parents’ faces when I tell them I got a new dog. They’ll disapprove. They’ll think I was impulsive. They’ll wonder about who is going to pay for dog food and vet bills if I can’t find work.
I always make it work. I don’t like having to choose between buying dog food or paying bills, but I’ve been faced with that decision many times before and I know I always make the right decision. I always make it work. And I won’t always be in such tight financial situations. Once I’m done with school, I’ll be able to work full-time again, and I feel like I’m very hirable. I am, however, trying to be extra-cautious about the work environment I’m considering joining, because my last two jobs have been in very unhealthy atmospheres and I just can’t go through this again, not so soon anyway. I want a boss who is a mentor, an inspiration. Who constantly challenges me to do more, do better. Who makes me feel like what we do matters and that I’m a valuable part of the team. Or, at the very least, I just want an office without drama. Too much to ask? Fine. I’ll take a dog then.
I’m looking for a smaller dog, not only because they’re more suited for apartment-living, but so it can travel with me more easily (instead of having to leave it at home and get a pet-sitter when I go on trips, as rarely as that happens), it’ll eat less food (cheaper), and I’ll be able to pick it up much more easily if it gets sick and needs to go to the vet. Cleo was almost 75 lbs when she died, and it was very difficult for me to pick her up and move her around like I needed to. I couldn’t even carry her once she passed because the unconscious body was just too heavy for me. I was also exhausted from stress, emotions, lack of sleep, and probably a little shock.
So, smaller dog. Female (I’ve always had girls). Okay with cats and other dogs (since she’ll be living with cats and I’d like to not have the same doggy-aggression that I had with Cleo). Not hyperactive, but a cuddlebug with normal energy-level. Full-grown, less than 2 years old. Housebroken of course. Not asking too much, right? We’ll see what happens. I’ll know the dog when I see it, but it’s still good to have a clear idea of what you want and what your life with that dog will be.
I just need something good in my life that’s simple and uncomplicated, and that I know will last for years to come. I love the fatty, but she’s not the same as a dog and she’s only got a few years left in her at the most. I need a dog to get me through her death. I need a dog to get me through the struggle this year is turning out to be. I need a dog to remind me that no matter what my boss or coworkers say, I know in my heart that I am a good person who works hard, takes her work seriously, and addresses everyone with the kindness that professionalism requires. I need to remind myself that they’re just reflecting their own issues onto me and that there’s only so much I can do to counteract that. People are people, and that’s all you can say.
Can’t wait for the day when I won’t have to worry so much about money. One day. One day. One day.