New Start(er)

Today's task--which took all of five minutes--was to start a sourdough starter. I've thought about it over the years but never wanted to be bothered. Now, though, with the prospect of time on my hands (and the very belated realization that, once I get it going, it can live in the fridge with weekly feedings and be happy), I figured I might as well. The baking season is about to start in earnest--at least as much because I'm going to have a lot of time to do it as because of the calendar. Plus, I bought a whole lot of flour (despite already having more than just about anyone I know except Brazen Tart), including 10 pounds of whole wheat, 5 pounds of white whole wheat, 25 pounds of all-purpose, and some barley flour and barley flakes. One of the bags of whole wheat split during shipping--I didn't lose much out of the bag, but KAF is sending me another bag anyway, which means I'll have close to 20 pounds of whole wheat flour.

Yeah, I know, probably a bit much.

But why not, I say.

Work sort of continues, oddly enough. My last day isn't for two more weeks, though I'll be off for Thanksgiving and the day after as well as two days the following week, so I only have six more days there. I don't have a whole lot to do, though. There are a couple of tasks I should complete, and I've done one. The person who's taking over a lot of the grant-management stuff picked my brain for a few hours the other day and has since left town, not to return until after I'm gone. S/he seems pretty confident that s/he has what the organization needs to know from me; I'm much less sure. The operations person was out of town all week and says s/he is busy all next week as well, but s/he wants to send an email request for various things from me. Which, whatevs; I'll do what I can. Personally, I'm not convinced they're going to have what they need, but I don't much care.

I've sent out some applications, I've handed the resume to a few people with whom I've worked in the past couple of years, but nothing has bubbled so far, which doesn't really surprise me much. The separation agreement was sent out yesterday in draft form, and it's fine (i'm not even going to detail it here, because of all the prohibitions about disclosure).

The reality is, I'm glad to be going. Part of it is of course wanting to get out of a situation where I know I'm not wanted--there is absolutely no percentage in wanting to prolong that. Another part, though, is relief that I can stop fighting some of the battles in which I've been mired. A number of things have been a continuous struggle. I tend to think that they've been a struggle because of the particular people or systems with whom/which I've been struggling, but of course it's also possible that I'm the reason for the struggle. In my time there, I've taken on some tasks that absolutely had to be done, that weren't being done or weren't being done properly, but haven't had the resources or systems or support from others to really get things working properly. And now? Not my problem. Perhaps someone else can figure it out; perhaps I've really been the obstacle; or perhaps some shit is going to hit the fan--and I can't bring myself to have much of a stake in the answer.

A few people have suggested that I not be completely forthcoming about what I know, but I'm not going along with that suggestion. For one thing, it just goes against my nature. For another, that's a good way for people to blame me later. But finally, I want what happens after I leave to be unrelated to me. They'll likely figure it out--they're smart people, it's not rocket science, and there aren't many things due in the coming months, i.e., they have time to get things in order, which also means that, by the time things are due, I will be long gone and not a likely target for blame.

As for whether I can find another job, I have no idea--I simply cannot predict. My previous experience is all over the damn map, and therefore not necessarily a good clue. And who knows--I could come in second for a dozen jobs, which would be encouraging, in the sense of getting nibbles, but would still mean I'd be unemployed. I could win the lottery. I could end up having to take a job elsewhere. Who fucking knows.

So I'm going to exercise, and bake, and read, and donate some time to the hippy-dippy restaurant, and do some more in the sunroom, and make curtains for the kitchen window, and soon enough, it'll be January. Or February. Or March. If I'm still coming up with projects in March, then I will start to panic a bit, but I see no reason to panic in November about what might or might not happen by March.