Thoughts on Not the Last Day After All, and on Knitting
I like knowing what to expect, and having time to get my head in the right place, to plan, to gather what I need, to make lists. I like surprises sometimes, but not always, and not too many.
I started this job mid-May with the clearly stated expectation that it was a temp job, with a clear end date of October first. Nothing was said to indicate anything else. Once in June and once in September, my boss mentioned in the course of e-mails that I did well on a certain project, but otherwise I got no feedback, no information about scheduling or planning, until two weeks before the expected end date. I feel like I knew the path ahead of me and wham! Here I am on a different path, all confused.
Instinct versus reason
I know what the reasonable, sensible decision here is: stay on at the current temp job until I find a better permanent job. What I can't resolve is how I feel about that decision.
Instinct says leave. Go. Last day Friday, as planned. I don't like the atmosphere, the management style, the pay rate, the benefits or lack thereof, the commute. Go. Leave.
I don't know why it's been okay to work here up to now, but feels untenable to continue. Perhaps it's simply that one can put up with a lot when there's a definite end date set. Once that end becomes undefined, it's a whole new ballgame. Plus, I hate not knowing, and being able to plan accordingly. I did expect to have uncertainty in October, but it was going to come with all that time off...
Earlier this week, the stress that arose from the thought of staying was tremendous. I didn't know what to do, and felt almost panicked. I know what I should do, but but but, I don' wanna. Now I feel more resigned, but still not happy.
Meanwhile, my boss continues to be hard for me to understand, this time in that she seems to be assuming that I'm staying on. Tuesday she dropped off a great big in-your-downtime project for me.
I wonder how long she thinks I'm staying?On a related note, I have a question for you, or two actually. You know, if you have an opinion. No pressure. Just that I'm sure you'd have something to contribute, you clever thing, you.
I wonder what the weather's like in her world?
First, how soon is too soon to get in touch again with the company where I interviewed?
To recap, I interviewed last Thursday, 9/23. I sent an e-mail thank-you note the same day, and mailed a handwritten one Friday afternoon. I'm thinking that next week might be okay: I noticed a trademarking inconsistency on their website, and thought that letting them know about it would bring me (and my eye for detail) to mind. And I could ask what their timeline is looking like.
Please, if you have an opinion, weigh in: is next week good, or too soon?
Second, when the happy day comes that I have another job (or the unhappy day when I don't, but I can't take the current job, or more likely the commute, for another day without an end in sight), what about giving notice?
Normally, I am a staunch two-weeks-notice person. I believe that short of extreme circumstances, it's just rude not to give notice.
In this case, though, I'm kind of pondering. I feel like I committed to October one, and I haven't committed to anything beyond that (nor have I been asked to, straight out). As they say, Massachusetts is an at-will employment state, meaning that the employer can ask you to leave at any time, and legally you can leave at any time.
So, in my shoes, would you give two weeks notice? One week? What do you say?
The Evolution of Knitting Confidence
Four years ago, I read on Knitty about the technique of knitting two socks at once, one inside the other*. I was shocked, fascinated, awestruck, and absolutely positive I would never, ever try it**.
*Imagine twice as many stitches on each needle as usual, where the odd-numbered ones belong to sock A and the evens to sock B. And two balls of yarn. When you're done knitting, there's the magic trick of pulling one finished sock out of the other.
**One single stitch wrong, and you're screwed: you have conjoined socks. Most people do not have conjoined feet.
But I thought of it one morning this week, knitting my (singular) sock on the subway, and realized that I'm more interested and less appalled by the idea now. I'm not rushing out to start it, and it certainly wouldn't be travel or social knitting, but it seems much less impossible.
I think maybe I'll scout around for a more basic double-knitting project, so I could see just how crazy it would make me, holding two strands of yarn separately. And then we'll see.
Coming home tonight, the T was absolutely mobbed. I knit, standing up (leaning against the door), because it was that or get off the train. As usual, 90% of the remaining riders got off at the next to last stop. I looked up to see just one other person remained in my section of seats, and as I said to her, "What are the odds that the last two people here are both knitting?" Because she was! A scarf. We talked about knitting, and hand-knit socks, and it was a nice moment after the madness.
Sometimes, while knitting on the T, I think about all the answers to the seldom-asked question, "What are you doing?" Some possibilities, more and less literal:
- making a sock
- turning the heel (casting on, decreasing for the toe, etc)
- staving off a claustrophobic* panic attack
- not thinking about how much I hate people
For that matter, my knitting confidence has increased during my months knitting on the T. I have cast on, and worked on heels and toes, while riding the subway, without causing crisis or angst. How about that?