It has been a hell of a two years. I was going to say hell of a year but then I realized, nope, it’s been two. Two years ago, beginning of September, I started this new job. I was on a year-long contract and we were going to have an election and a national convention, and then I was going to have to go back to job hunting.
Reader, it has not quite worked out that way.
I started the job, the election started, and then we went on strike. Come off strike in time for the end of the election. A nice few months of what might have been normalcy, and then we started prepping for a federal budget and working towards the national convention and then this whole pandemic thing happened.
Working from home, cancel convention, busy and focused.
In the second year I got hired on permanently, we held a virtual convention, we waited and waited for the federal election that finally came just before Labour Day – one of the busier days on our schedule. Oh, and in the middle of convention prep Joe and I decided to move.
We’ve been living in this house since May and there are a whole lot of things left undone because I have been working so much.
We also have discovered that the people we bought the house from were terrible and half-assed a lot of things or just left them broken. We’ve had a lot of great discoveries. How do you break the utensil tray in a dishwasher? I don’t know, but apparently it can be done.
Still, it feels like we have time here. Things will fall into place, the space will evolve and it will be ours.
Since we’ve been hear I’ve been learning more and more about my family connections to this place, which go back deeper on both sides than I was aware of – enough to make me long to have known more about my Granny, who was deep into Alzheimer’s by the time I knew who she was.
And now I am on vacation. What feels like my first real break in months – not hoping that I prepped enough at work, not waiting for an election to drop. But I am spending a lot of time thinking.
My first real break and I want to take a step back so when I go back to work I am more me than I have been. I haven’t been doing so much of the taking care of me for so long.
It all becomes so clear – like it did with our old house when the pandemic started. It was so clear all of the things that were not right for us in that house. Now we are living with detached walls and a proper, fenced backyard and a giant bathtub where I can decompress. A kitchen that we can move around in and share space.
I haven’t been reading like I usually do, and I certainly haven’t been writing, or sketching or painting. I haven’t been sleeping or eating well. There were days during the campaign that I literally didn’t step outside the house.
I have a week off right now, and another week off in two weeks, and I want to read and write and think and learn and take naps and bake and spend time doing nothing at all, but sitting in the backyard. Just sitting.
The election is over. Nothing really changed, but it’s not hanging over our heads any more. I’m on vacation. My kid is going to school. There is time now.