Surly's Soap Box

I'm slightly disappointed in my new job. Well, not so much the job as the company. The accountant at the placement agency messed up and put my check in the wrong account, so now my paycheck is now 4 days late. I had a misunderstanding about how much I was going to be paid, so I had to have one of those tough discussions with the boss about money, economy, and such. They have a system of 'probation' and 'eligibility' that is actually kind of weird. As someone whose been in the work force for over twenty years, I've never dealt with it before. Sweeter Half says it's pretty standard for people working through an angency.

I'm a straight shooter: I like to get everything out on the table. Years ago, I would have just taken it with out saying anything, but then I'd let the anger fester within until something got destroyed on the outside, not to mention the depression that comes along with holding anger. I don't like depression, and having dealt with it off and on during my life, I don't want to set myself up.

And then, there is the death of a dream: The Catering and Restaurant Dream. I received the renewal forms for my catering license and decided to pass. It cost a lot of money (which I could come up with if I needed to), but I didn't have enough business last year to justify having it. This year doesn't look any better, so maybe it's time to be a realist and cut it loose. After years of advertising, handing out business cards, doing free events to 'get my name out there', I have invested thousands in time and money with nothing to show for it other than debt and a garage full of pots and pans. I thinks it's time to let 'er go, and give my family the security they need by investing myself into a 'regular' job.

Is this the death and rebirth that we often hear about? That a dream is like a seed, that it must be buried (die) and forgotten until it is reborn? I thought I'd been through all that stuff before: I'd put this dream away before, buried it, figured it was the end. But then I'd get a phone call or two, and I'd be filled with hope once more, that the dream was coming back to life! Maybe now was the time! But it always was more along the lines of Frankenstein's monster: Something pulled from the grave and forced to live rather that something that has germinated, growing from a spark of life within.

What more to say? The end.