Wednesday, August 11, 2010

Twenty Years

Who knew?

 After a couple mutual wishes of "Happy Anniversary"  this morning,  it took a couple minutes to come up with the amount.   Twenty years.   I never thought she'd put up with me that long,  but I'm still kicking around*.
 Now,  before any of you mushy types say,  "Oh how wonderful that you're in Vienna for your Twentieth Anniversary",  you might just want to hold that thought there,   Kemo Sabe.
While I typically don't have any issues with hanging around the homestead toiling over a slightly warm computer,  while my Travelling Companion goes off to try and lead the lost out of the wilderness,  today's particular manifestation of work for her consisted of flying off to,  wait for it......


 Such good planning.  Never mind that she had a conference call within minutes of hitting the tarmac and had to get the driver to stop the car for a time so as not to drop the call.  Took her two tries just to get through to me just a little while ago.   That was around four p.m. Wienerland Time.  She is being driven through Transylvania at this very moment.

Yes Virginia,  there really is a Transylvania.

Birthdays and anniversaries alone are part of the deal I guess.  We'll celebrate later maybe.

Or next year.

 Now,  it so happens that the 10th of August (yesterday for those of you who lost track) was also somewhat of a milestone.   See,  so happens that I was supposed to return to work on that day,  or I was done in,  out of a job.


 I didn't quite make it.

 Months ago when we were trying to figure out just how we would solve this thing called work when it came to my end of the bargain,  I figured I'd just have to pack it in,  or go home at some point and put on the blue shirt and safety boots.

Fun times.

Extending the leave of absence past the two year mark wasn't a possibility,  since our employee group just so happens to have a collective agreement,  and somewhere along the way,  some very wise contributor (quite likely the employer) covered off that issue.

I can only get two years.

 No amount of threatening letters from some lawyer or other (I've had offers)  would change a damned thing.  Well,  except perhaps the amount of money in our bank account.

 The notion of going back and hanging around with my employer for a time,  and then trying my luck at asking for another leave of absence didn't seem to make a whole heap of sense,  since they could have very well turned around and quite simply said...."no".

 That would have been a fine pickle,  since it would have meant first of all,  having to get myself back to Canader,  then having to buy a set of wheels of some sort to get back and forth to work, since I could have ended up in any of the 80 elementary or 17 high schools within the district,  since I lost my own school at the end of the first year that we were away.

 Note previous comment about "bank account".
(So how long would I have to work to break even on that part of the deal?) 

I'm sure they wouldn't have made me drive 40 kilometres to work every morning,  but you never know.  Either way,  I wouldn't have been taking the bike back with me on the plane.
 And....public transit?   In Burlington, Ontario?   You must be joking.

 So there would be a certain financial disincentive,  and then the more we chewed away at the problem,  the more my Travelling Companion realised that I simply couldn't leave.
Her exact words were,  "You can't leave me".

 OK then.

 I guess that's reassuring,  and does tend to tie in with that whole "Twenty Years"  theme.

 It's one thing to be a few hours away by car in a place like Horseheads, N.Y.
or even in Puerto Rico for that matter.   But Wienerland is not just a few hours away from central Canada.
 For her to be left to her own devices in a land where she can't speak the lingo,  so far from kin and country would really,  really suck.

I sure hope I don't now have to change the name of the blog,  since I'm currently "between commitments"?

 Not only that,  I'll have to figure out what to do with all those blue shirts.


* Or as my sister so aptly mentioned to our sister-in-law on her fortieth anniversary,  "Just think,  you'd be out by now!"

I'll let you figure that one out....but suffice to say,  we no longer have capital punishment in the Great White North.  It's OK though,  my sister-in-law didn't get it either.



  1. I could hazard a few suggestions on what to do with the blue shirts but I think that is something best left to personal choice. Personally I am torn between burning all of my uniforms in the backyard or donating them to Goodwill (in Hamilton of course). I've got 2500days to no rush! :-)

  2. Can't see myself burning them in the back yard. That would be too much of a waste. They are at least of a decent quality, so will quite likely serve for work around the house. I might get to the point where I'll remove the "Facilities Services" labels, but we'll see.


Well, I've been getting too many spam comments showing up. Just a drag, so we'll go another route and hope that helps. So, we won't be hearing anything more from Mr. Nony Moose.
I guess I'll just have to do without that Gucci purse.