I noted with some interest that Safeway - we love our Safeway - had all kinds of positions being advertised in its nearby Pleasanton corporate office. Hmm, I thought. Hmm. I dimly recalled hearing that some company bought Safeway, remembering that it filled me with trepidation and fear for Susan (we regularly give each other shit), Ellis (who's always laughing at our disconnects, but especially hard when Maureen has to show me, again, that I need to put only one bottle on the belt or I get frustrated with Maureen's crises in produce), and Joy (who, despite the cheerful name only recently switched meds and quit snapping at customers). Not to mention all of the wonderfully friendly and helpful baggers. Once roundly criticized for failing to comply with the Americans with Disabilities Act, Safeway is now an advocate of, as we say in the Bay Area lest we be ridiculed and dismissed as Neanderthal, "other-abled" individuals.
Curious, I went to our hero, Google. Sure enough, some megacorp, unfortunately named after the three-headed dog that guards the gates of Hades, bought Safeway and intends to attempt to dig trenches around the earth mover big box stores. You know, The One We all Like to Hate.
So that was an easy and quite informative distraction from the task at hand. So it was on to other sources of job searching inspirational activities. I looked into a few suggestions my always supportive friends offered up, like living my life in a purposeful way. God, I hate the, "Carol, what do you want?" question. I did what I wanted, being a bureaucrat. I loved it, worked very hard at it and, I think, made a difference in the little part of the world that I served. Yeah. Look what that got me. Not that I'm bitter....
I texted with Niece Nat with whom I share the job searching blues. I advised her that my friends wanted me to make this blog funnier. She replied, "Anything authored by a Northrup has at bare minimum traces of inherent humor. Ill be the judge of this!"
Fortified by that, I took my camera out to the deck to see what birds might want to have their pitchur took (audiologically visualize deep Southern accent, dripping with all the sugar and fat). I've only recently started seeing Oak Titmouses at the feeder in front. I got my first photo of one before Merlin chased it away, and went back to trying to catch hummingbirds and eating bees.
Yard work called to me after that. We're having the last part of our back fence replaced soon. The neighbors have been kind of a pain in the ass about that but that's a story for another day. I went up to the hill to start taking out the dead parts of the hated thorn tree (a stab wound hurts for days) and ivy. As usual, my trusty yard work assistant was on hand for the entire operation.
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