Good news and bad news

I'm sitting here eating mayo out of the jar (yes, it's gross, but I find it comforting) and tearing at my cuticles until they bleed. I've had the strangest day. I find myself at a crossroads yet again and wondering whether I should even write about it.

I have been complaining quite a bit, haven't I? But I still make you laugh when I bitch, don't I? I hope so, because I need to find some humour in this latest bit of news. Let's see if my rambling will lead to something funny.

I had a message on my machine last night from my boss at ParentDish. Two things struck me immediately:

1. Miss Super Busy, whom I adore so much, actually had time to call me. Wait. Or was that made time to call me?
2. She said something about "changes" and her voice wasn't cheery.

I replayed the message after I got the kids off to bed. I was instantly certain of one thing -- I would no longer be writing there.

Then I thought, no no Nadine, don't do that to yourself. Then I thought and thought some more until the hamster in my brain got off his wheel and held up a picket sign. By the time the Dog came home I had whittled my thoughts down to, "I think I'm about to get bad news, but there's nothing I can do about it, so I'm not going to lose sleep over it."

And I definitely stuck to that! We woke up at 9 am this morning with a chortling gasp, as though our heads had been in the sand all night. (Hooray for central heating dry mouth.) Lucine has been our alarm clock for the past 6 months. Yet it was the cat who was waking us all up. "She must be dead," thought my morose stupid brain. "Stop it!" shouted Rational to Irrational.

Oh my, that little girl is slee--- no I won't say it for fear of jinxing it. Let's just say we're finally getting some zeds around here. For now. Anyway, we headed about our day, having breakfast, getting dressed. The morning chatter as of late has made this anti-morning activist have a change of heart. The way Nate enthusiastically screams, "Igottanidea! Let's go down and have bweakfast!" well it makes me get out of my cosy warm bed in a hurry.

After the cereal bowls were cleared, I headed off to be desasquatched. I enjoy my dates with Flora at SugarMoon Salon. She's fun and easy to talk to and we just brag about our kids for an hour. It's nice. Then I came home for the inevitable phone call.

My boss sounded weary and uncomfortable and I knew it was coming. I felt sad because I really just wanted to talk to her casually and ask about the boy crush I've been reading about on her blog. But business is business and it's never fun telling someone they can't work for you anymore.

To be clear, I wasn't exactly fired. I was let go from ParentDish today along with a handful of other bloggers due to some changes from head office. I don't really know all the details. It's a bummer for sure. They're no longer interested in the personal posts and that's what I tend to do when I'm in the mood to write.

Also, I'm sporadic in my writing on that site (well, here too). It's something I've been wanting to rectify for so long, but I just can't seem to do it. My life doesn't seem to work that way. I don't know how ParentDisher Linda Lee blogs so frequently with a newborn and a preschooler. I just don't. Because I can't seem to manage anything remotely close to her output.

That is the one thing I'll take away from all this is that I really need to work on my time management and reliability. It's something I have to make a more conscious effort to teach my own children -- commitment. But how do you teach a skill you don't really have? Maybe we can all learn together.

I guess in the back of my mind I had thought that when my mat leave was up, were I not to go back to work, I could just focus on writing for PD full-time. But it looks as though Plan B is out. So that's part of what's doing a number on my head.

The second part of it is pure ego. It sucks to be cut from the team. It makes you second guess your talents, your skills, your worth. I guess I'll just have to take some time to grieve and then move on. It's not like life is over. It just feels a bit like a break-up. But it's not like I'm getting dumped by my soulmate. More like a boyfriend I was fond of.

The good news is that I can now focus on my real love: writing with curse words. Here. Though, that was sullied a tad this week too. My mother, who recently started reading this blog thanks to Facebook, commented, "It's good, but less swearing." Normally I would have ranted back with "Mind your fucking business Ma!" but maybe she's right. *gasp* The old me would have:

1. Never listened to her mom
2. Written this whole post with a "Fuck you beeyatches, you don't know what you'll be missing" slant.

So it seems I'm mellowing with age, tucking my tail between my legs and donning mumus. Oh dear. What's next?

Wow, nothing funny there folks. Maybe I'll have to go test drive today's bikini wax on the huzzle and see if hilarity ensues.