Cat free living

This weekend was the cat transfer. Pele and I drove to Wytheville, VA where we met KJ, who traveled there from Nashville, TN. Yes, Tabitha the cat is taking up residence in Music City with two other cats and a dog--and two humans.

When people ask me why the cat is going to Nashville, I say, "To start her music career. She's always wanted to be a country singer."

The usual response is a blank stare. Either it's not funny or people think I'm serious (and crazy). My routine about wanting the cat to make dinner for me once in a while gets more laughs. "Is it too much to ask? She could just put a frozen dinner in the microwave--easy peasy!"

Anyway, it's a little sad to not have her around. After all, what's the payoff for the layer of cat hair coating the apartment if there's no actual cat around? However, I am looking forward to cleaning this week and not feeling that it's an exercise in futility.

Amusingly, today, I received a message from least favorite colleague, Mandy, the one who systematically excluded me from countless office happy hours and other events. It should be noted that she is on a three-month rotation out of the office that started in May. I have high hopes that she will never return.

She wrote:

Hi [Jamy],

Greetings from [large, exciting US city]! How are your preparations for Paris coming along? How was your one-week reconnaissance trip? I’m so exited for you! Let me know once you’re over there if you want a visitor because I don’t need much arm twisting to go to Paris. if the awards tickets are available – I’d stay in a hotel of course, but it would be fun to do a long weekend in Paris. FYI, I looked on the [elite private college] housing classifieds and didn’t see any apts available. I also asked [another colleague] if he would talk to his friends in Paris and then talk to you if he had any leads on any places, but I don’t know if he did.

[Mandy]

Wow. Wow! What is she thinking? When did we become friends? I remember when she originally offered to check her college housing list and I was surprised. I know she likes to be helpful--but to offer to visit me in Paris, it's just bizarre! I was at such a loss that I still haven't responded. I shared the mesage with (work friend) Nancy who suggested this response, "How about, 'No matter how lonely I get, I still won't want to see you?' :-)"

That about sums it up.

One more thing. I called my mom for Mother's Day, 'natch. Even though she doesn't buy it and I don't buy it, I worry that she'll be hurt if I don't at least call (I also sent a card, but it will be late). We had a good conversation where we talked a lot about me (whoops). I mentioned that I'd read an article about taking a sabbatical that says you're supposed to get into a routine right away or else you risk drifting and not getting anything accomplished. (In a way, drifting would be fine because mostly what I want to do is NOT WORK, but since I do have a goal of writing, I will need some kind of schedule.) Mom said, "What are you trying to do?"

I said, "Write!"

She said, "I think you just need time to settle in and find your rhythm."

"Really?"

"Yes. That article is true for some people, but not for you. You're not like that."

I said, "I'm not?"

"Remember, who was that in college? That teacher? Who said that if you took time off after college you'd never go back to school?"

"Oh, right," I said, "that was Paul [an advisor the program I was in]. He was wrong."

"Exactly. You still went to graduate school. You just need to settle in and you'll find your routine. That's how you are."

(Background: when I was in college, I had this plan to teach for one year in a "disadvantaged" high school before going to graduate school. Unfortunately, I would have had to get a teaching certificate to do this, which would have cost me an extra year of college and since I was already on the five-year plan, it never came to fruition. No Teach for America in those days! Instead, what I took crappy job for a while, quit that job and worked two or three crappy part-time jobs for a while, quite those jobs to go to Europe for three months, working one crappy job for a while before applying successfully to be a VISTA volunteer. I took about two and a half years between finishing my course work and starting grad school--which brought me to the ripe old age of 22.)

Mom's right and that is how I want to play it. I develop routines but it's usually an organic process rather than a deliberately planned one. I've spent a lot of time making grids of the days of the week and the hours in the day and planning what to do in each hour or two interval. Never, once have I ever followed one of these schedules for longer than a day. Yet, I do have routines and patterns. I like to be flexible. I know what needs to go into the little boxes of time and by the end of the day, the week, or the month, I get everything done. But I can't plan exactly when each task will get accomplished. Sometimes I plot out a day to make sure I'll get where I need to go on time. I will plan out vacations, roughly, to make sure I see everyone I want to see and get everywhere I want to go, but those are the exceptions. I operate more on a list model--I write a list and cross things off as I get them done. The timing isn't an issue.

I am sure I will find my rhythm. I'm planning to give myself the first month to suss things out and then I'll settle in to however I want to approach the rest of my time. I will be starting a language class (don't tell the French embassy) my second week there, which will provide structure around which to hang the my time. After that, I'll be on my own, but I think I'll manage. I hope so! I hope Mom is right.

Grateful for: KJ for taking the cat!

Yes

7:20 pm. I should be eating dinner right now to get back on schedule. But it's also 1:21 am so I'm not so hungry.

Were you expecting me to write while I was gone? If so, I'm sorry. I should have mentioned that I planned it to be a blog-free time. Mostly for convenience. I didn't bring my computer--I had access to the computer where we stayed. Also, writing with Mom looking over my shoulder seemed like a bad idea.

Ok, short version: I'm moving to Paris on May 27! I bought my plane ticket today. I found a place to live. I put a deposit down. It was not romantic love but it was total confidence that I will like it there, that I will be happy and that going is what I want to do. I can handle it. I will learn French! I will read, write, knit, bike, walk and make full use of the public transportation system. I will drink coffee in the morning standing at the bar. I will shop at open markets, go see movies in English with French subtitles and maybe, if I'm lucky, I'll get confident enough to get lost.

More later.

Grateful for: my wonderful plan.

Visa story

This morning, I went to the French Embassy to submit my application for a long-stay visa.

I did some research and found that bus goes from Union Station to right outside the Embassy. I got up extra early and caught the bus. My appointment was at 8:55am. The bus dropped me off outside the embassy at 8:18.

I walked through the pedestrian gate and was waved over by a man encased in a round brown-glassed security "hut." As I approached I started to pull out the email I'd printed out in anticipation of the visit, "Please print this email as it will be requested by the security."

The man said, "Are you here for a visa?"

I said, "Yes."

He said, "They don't open until 8:45."

"Oh." I said, "I guess I'm early." I didn't move.

He said, "Yeah. And the facility isn't open. There's nowhere to wait."

I said, "Oh." I felt a little helpless and lost. I looked around. We were: nowhere.

He said, "There's a cafeteria across the street."

"Ok, thanks. I'll come back. Thanks."

I walked across the street to what turned out to be (part of) Georgetown U's Medical Campus. I never found the cafeteria, but that was ok. I'd picked up some coffee and a roll at Union Station. I wandered around and looked at the sculpture, which was plentiful. It was breezy and lovely, but too cool to sit outdoors. I found an indoor lounge and read for a few minutes. At 8:40am, I went across the street and back to the embassy.

This time, in exchange for my driver's license, I got a visitor's pass and directions to the visa office. I walked up the drive and found a seat in the office. A sign read, "If you have an appointment, please take a seat. You name will be called." Within ten minutes, my name was called.

I went to the window and was asked my purpose. I presented my passport. The lady said, "Are you going to study?"

"I'm going to take a class."

"You need a different visa then."

"What?"

"You need a student visa, good for 90 days. And you need another visa if you want to stay longer."

I was befuddled. "Well, I, I'm not taking a degree, it's just a language class."

"It is the same. You don't understand."

"I didn't read that on the website."

"You read the wrong website."

I thought, "You mean the French Embassy one?" I said, "I have all the documents for the long-stay visa..."

"No. There are different kinds of long-stay visas. There are rules. It's important!"

I said, "Well, can I just apply for the tourism visa? I won't study. I'll promise not to study."

She kept my passport and told me to cross out "study" from my forms. When I started the crossing out while still standing at the window, she sent me back to my seat.

I sat and scribbled over the places where I'd written study and crossed out the name of school where I planned to take a French language class. Oy.

I went back to the window and handed her the altered forms. She said, "Do you have the other photos?" I handed them over.

"Do you have the next document required?"

I handed her my bank records. She made a mark on the application form.

She said, "Do you have the next document?"

I gave her a piece of paper on which I'd typed that I promised not to work while in France. It was signed and dated. She said, "Add to this that you will not study." I did. She made another mark.

She said, "Do you have the next document?"

I gave her the proof of medical insurance. Check. Then the "non-criminal record" certification. Check. Last, a note saying I'm staying with a friend. (They want a deed to an apartment...but how would I get that?) She didn't like the letter either. "No id?"

I said, "No, but I have a copy of her utility bill."

The woman said, "We'll call you. Please sit down."

I sat. I was discouraged. I thought, "Fine. Forget France. I'll go for three months...and then I'll live in the UK. Or somewhere else." I struck up a conversation with a woman sitting near me.

I was called up again, this time by the man working there. He said, "Write your name on this envelope. We will send the approval there. It will take up to two months."

"Two months! That's not what it said on the website!"

"You read the wrong website! Do not argue with me!"

I said, "I have it right..."

He cut me off, "Write your name and address please!"

I wrote my name and address on the envelope. I was asked to sit again and wait. I looked at the copy of the webpage. It read, " The procedure takes about 1 to 2 weeks for US citizens and 2 months for others nationalities."

I chatted some more with my new friend.

I was called to the window again. The man handed me a few pages of blank white paper. "Please go sit at that table and write on this paper exactly what you plan to do in France."

I stared at him and took the paper and sat at the table. I glanced at my waiting room friend and shrugged my shoulders. I wrote an essay that went something like this:

While I am in Paris, I plan to partake of the cultural opportunities--cinema, museums, concerts--that the city has to offer. I plan to spend time writing for a personal project. I will travel in the country. I also plan to use Paris as my "home base" when I go visit my friends in other parts of Europe. The time is a rest from my job, which I will resume when I return to the US.

I brought the completed "essay" back to the man. He smiled at me and asked me to sit down again. I felt a little dazed. I said to my friend, "It's like writing a grad school application." It wasn't exactly that, though. It was like writing the essay for my application for in-state residency in North Carolina. How to be honest and yet leave an opening for what I really intend to do (basically what I said, but I'm still going to take a French language class! Please don't tell).

I waited and was called again. The man gave me a big smile and said I would get the visa TODAY. He told me he could offer two kinds of visas: 1) six months only and nothing else to do or 2) indefinite, but with the need to apply for a residency card within 90 days of arriving in France. I chose number two.

I sat again and waited. By 10:15 I left the office with a visa.

At some point they must have realized that this is what I was asking: please let me come to your country, spend all my money, then go home. Who would say no to that?

Boy oh boy. I sure hope I'm doing the right thing!

Grateful for: persistence.

I hate you Citibank

One of the many preparatory steps I took for my Paris adventure, was to open a new bank account. I already have two banks with which I do business, and a mutual fund operator, but none of them have an international presence. What I needed was a bank with branches in the US and France. Citibank seemed to fit the bill.

After one of my multitude of trivial doctor's appointments last week, I noticed a Citibank (henceforth abbreviated as "CB") branch on my walk from doctor's office to the metro. Perfect! I stopped in, waited a good 20 minutes, talked to a guy for at least another half an hour, and walked out the proud new owner of a CB account.

I got home, logged on and set everything up for internet banking. I set up links between the new account and one of my other accounts. Excitement!

Today, I remember to check on line for CB ATMs in Paris. The rates are much better if you make the transactions on their ATMs--even if it's on your US account.

After more searching than seems reasonable, I come to the page that lists all the countries where CB has branches. France is not on the list.

Astonishing! I call the relevant number and ask, "Are there any CB ATMs in Paris?" She puts me on hold.

The answer? "No."

Damn. I call the US number and say I want to cancel my account because I only opened it because I was told they had branches in France. The fellow on the phone says, "We do have branches in France!"

I say, "Not according to your website."

Guess it's HSBC for me. Argh!

Grateful for: patience.

Drowing in minutae

Oy. Bad blogger! I have no intention of giving up the blog, in case you were wondering. I know I'd be wondering if one of my several weekly reads started posting twice a week: MAX. Yeesh.

You know, the whole point of this trip to Paris is to write. Yet, the amount of planning, worrying and organizing it requires is sapping my energy to do almost anything else! No writing, no reading...not even knitting! I could knit but I'm toning it down due to continued, unrelenting, shoulder pain. I'm on the good drugs now so hopefully I will recover enough to take it up again.

I also made, in retrospect, a good decision to not row this year. First, it wouldn't be much of a season. Second, my shoulder still hurts and rowing would only make it worse. Third, who has time?

I have a dozen annoying calls that I'm working through every day: to the phone company, the student loan people (can I lower my payment temporarily?), cell phone company (grrr...pure evil!), a roofer.

I have to visit the bank, open a new bank account, link all current bank accounts.

The tedium is never ending. Never ending. I sure hope it pays off!

Grateful for: organizational skills.

When it rains...

...it drizzles.

Last week, I called Diego and left him a message about how well my trip planning is going. I have a renter, I have informal approval for the leave, it's all coming together.

He called me back and left a message about how he had some friends who had the perfect guy for me (smart, Jewish, attractive). He was excited but warned them that I might be going to France. And guess what, now I am going to France! So, no set up for me.

I called him back and left yet another message and said, "No, ,no, NO! You have to introduce me! This is what's supposed to happen! This is what I've been waiting for!" Then, perhaps, I laughed maniacally.

Set up is pending.

Today, I had an entirely too long a lunch with a guy I know from college who was only kind of my friend back then. He's super geeky guy, now a successful professor type, happily married with FOUR children. He's probably a couple of years younger than me. He's just as I remembered him, but taller and a touch heavier (wish I could claim the former!).

We had a good time, somewhat to my surprise, but I rambled far too much about the ins and outs of my job (at his prompting).

I did not tell him about France.

The most amusing moment of the lunch was when he asked (not in these words) if I was interested in being set up with a nice, Jewish, age appropriate DC-dwelling friend of his.

When I realized where he was heading, I looked down, laughed nervously and probably blushed. But I said yes. Of course!

That makes two set up offers with nice Jewish guys in the last week.

Total number of previous DC set-ups with nice Jewish guys: one.

Total life time number of nice Jewish guy boyfriends: zero.

This leaving the country thing may pay off yet!

Grateful for: friendly offers.

Wow, wow, wow!

I got the informal approval for my leave today.

I sent TR the paragraph he requested. It was longer than a paragraph and more full of complementary self-referential language than anything I've ever written. When I sent it, the subject line of the email was, "greatness revealed."

Oh, I can't help myself. Here's what I wrote (with work-specific info redacted):

For personal reasons, [Jamy Barab] has requested a six-month leave without pay. [Jamy] has a variety of interests she wishes to pursue during her leave and she feels it is the appropriate time in her career to take this time off from work. Upon her return, she will complete her outstanding assignments.

[Jamy] brings valuable skills that range from the mundane (explaining the ins and outs of Word) to the highly technical (implementing complex statistical analyses). [Jamy] is a particularly valuable employee because of her combination of technical skills, writing ability and flexibility. [Jamy] has never turned down an assignment and excels in bringing otherwise difficult projects to happy conclusions.

In recent years, [Jamy]'s writing skills have come to the forefront. [Jamy] is particularly skilled at writing in a clear and accessible style, which is essential for our reports since they are of interest to non-technical (lay) audiences.

It cannot be emphasized enough how important writing is to our work in [this office]. It is almost impossible to train staff to write, so while we highly value [Jamy] for her technical skills and flexibility, it may be her ability to write that is most valuable.

On the technical front, [Jamy] is conversant with most forms of multivariate regression and does her best to keep apprised of methodological innovations. She has received training in Event History Calendar data collection methods and Event History Analysis methods since beginning her work at [the Department]. She has stayed current with SAS training and is proficient in SPSS as well. She also attends the professional meetings of the [appropriate professional association] and fosters an important link between our world and academia.

In addition to methodological skills, [Jamy] brings in-depth knowledge of many [of this department's] programs. She started her tenure [here] because of her interest in the [major well-known] program and has stayed-up-to-date with that program. Along the way, she has become expert or semi-expert in the following program areas: [list of 14 programs!].

[Jamy]is often called to consult on special issues for program offices. She regularly reviews and comments in detail on the [annoying boutique program] report. She assisted in the assembly of an OMB package for a survey in [tiny southern county] and, in that case, helped design the survey and analyze the final data. Recently, she was asked to review the [interesting boutique program] NOFA [translation: notice of funding availability--like an RFP for public entities] due to inclusion of research requirements. She is also advising [enormous unfunded program] staff on the best approach to improve their data collection.

While it might be possible to hire someone with a skill set as valuable as [Jamy]'s, it would take considerably more than six months to get that person working at her capacity. It is also unlikely that we would find someone with just these same, particularly valuable, skills.

Ahem.

Yesterday, my potential sublettor became my actual sublettor.

I think this might actually happen.

I can't believe it.

I'm overwhelmed and very, very, very happy.

I'm so happy!

And you know, I'm going to kick some ass at this job in the next two months. Ironic, no?

More later, but I had to share.

Grateful for: my great good luck.

The Greatest

Yesterday, TR sent me an email asking if I would take first crack at writing a paragraph justifying my need for a leave of absence. In fed-speak it's "LWOP" aka "leave without pay." Did you know that "AWOL" is also a classification for fed employees? Kinda cool in a nerdy way.

He said he would do it if I didn't feel comfortable but he thought I should put my "writing talents to good effect." Now, I don't know if you can resist such flattery, but I certainly can't. Ideally, he'd write it but this is better. I can write the first draft and then he can add all the flattering/embarrassing stuff later.

He stopped by the office a little later and we joked a bit and he said, "I know I'll have to add the good stuff, but I'm afraid I might forget something so I thought you could take the first crack."

We also talked about the justification. When TR took his leave/rotation many years ago, the reason was that his wife wanted to move back to their home state. That's easy. Saying to want to go live in Paris for six-months just 'cause isn't quite as compelling.

I said, "Can we just say that I need to take time for personal reasons and this is the right time in my career to do it?"

"Yes, that's good. Make it so they won't ask about the why."

"It's not really their business anyway. We don't need to tell them I'm hanging out in Europe!" And then I made TR uncomfortable, "I could be going on a world-wide sperm donor search! It's not for them to know!"

TR laughed uncomfortably. "Heh. NO!"

I said, "Hmm. That doesn't sound right. Sounds like I'm whoring around. Not exactly me."

"Um. NO COMMENT."

Right. Let the inappropriate workplace behavior begin!

After he left, I started drafting the paragraph. I had these guidelines:

(a) Explain why you need the LWOP and how you expect it to refresh you for a return to the department in 6 months

(b) List out your talents and experience that are especially valuable to this office (basically justifying why we should hold your full-time position)

This is what came out:

Why I am the greatest employee ever

How can I explain my greatness? It is so vast, words can hardly do it justice. Why would someone as great as I am need time to "refresh"? Sadly, even one as great as I can be subject to burn out. But, my talents will not be wasted! I will use the time off to pursue greatness in other areas. My outside greatness will only bring future greatness to this humble work place.

I didn't quite get around to answering (b) because I was so amused. I know, I'll have to write a real response to this question soon. I can't explain where all that "greatness" talk came from. I think I'm fine and all but I don't need to shout about it, I figure you can come to your own conclusions after you get to know me or see me at work.

But, if you've ever seen Muhammad Ali speak--seen him boast and brag--you have to agree that there is something charming and exhilarating about it. And, in a way, my request for leave is along those lines. Aren't I saying, "I'm so good, you'll hold a place for me"? You'll save my spot because it will be so hard to find someone as good as me and it's worth it to you to take the hit. And, whatever the hell I plan to do, even if it's not designed to further the skills that I bring to this job, it is still worth it because it's what I want and you have to respect that--because you want me--because I'M SO GREAT.

Ha! I AM the greatest.

Grateful for: confidence.

I did it

I've walked around slightly elated for the last two days, listening to music on the ipod (rather than podcasts) and knowing why I'd lost some sabbatical enthusiasm. Guilt. I was carrying around a lot of guilt about the decision to leave the job--specifically guilt over the obligation to the two men in my work life: TR and Larry.

I wanted to write immediately, the instant I told TR, but I didn't. I'm not sure why it reminds of the night I went out, alone, for a drink to celebrate the completion of my PhD (I had a party later, but this was the day I got the final word and knew it was 100% done). I wanted to buy a round for the bar, but I was too shy to do it.

I was too shy to write that I told TR I wanted time off and got the best possible reaction: dismay, bewilderment, acceptance, understanding, encouragement and appreciation. It couldn't have gone much better if I planned it, which, despite non-stop mulling, I hadn't actually done. Well, I did plan, but I didn't script, so I wasn't sure how, exactly I would convey the message, "it's not you, it's me." Because even though it is, sort of, TR, that's not at all the point.

I was in there on Tuesday, talking to TR about something (probably condo stuff), as is my won't. I wasn't planning on telling him then, but I was nervous, anxious and feeling the burden of my secret. So I said, "Are you working on anything important?"

He said, "No."

I said, "I need to talk to you about something."

TR said, "Should we close the door?" I was already on my way there.

I assured him it had nothing to do with Mandy (that situation is resolved). I said, "I've been unhappy with the job for a long time. I need to take some time off to pursue personal interests. I also need the job to change. I'm not giving it my best and I'm not happy about that. I'm also not happy about how we get along, but that's not the real issue." And on like that.

TR listened, nodded and said, "I'm the right person to talk to about taking a leave!" Since he, early in his career, left our department and came back a few years later. We also talked about what other kind of work I could do around here, if I should move to a different division, or even work on detail for another organization for a while. It was good. It was clear that he values me and wants me to come back. He seemed to understand. He made a joke about me writing the "great American novel." I said, "I may or may not actually write a novel, but I want to try."

Obviously, I don't need to quit my job or take time off to write a novel. But I need to take time off. I don't care if I don't do any writing at all! That's the idea--to write. But the real idea is to get away from here and have some different experiences. To get out of the DC routine and into another, novel (heh), routine. Hell, if I spend most of my time reading novels and going to the movies I'll consider it a well-spent six-to-twelve months, but, yes, I plan to write too.

TR is gone for the rest of the week (traveling for work) and has left me in charge. Oh, irony, how I love thee.

The next day, Larry (old boss), came by and stood in my office door. Looking at me, silently. Finally, he said, "TR told me you wanted to take some time off...I don't know what to say."

I said, "Um, yeah, um. I...I don't know what to say..."

He said, "No, you don't have to talk about it..."

I said, "No! I want to...I just. I wanted to talk to you about it. I just need some time away."

He said, "You're really good at this."

I said, "But I'm not engaged any more. I can't make deadlines. I like to think that I still do good quality work, but there's really no excuse for how long it takes me to finish things."

Larry nodded grimly. We talked a while longer but he never stopped looking lost and unhappy. You should have seen the expression on his face. So sad! I swear, I thought he might cry.

I tell you what, it makes me extremely grateful that TR is now my "boss." (He's not the boss of me!) I don't think I could have quit on Larry, ever. We have such a tight boss-worker bond. I don't think I'll ever feel that way about someone again and perhaps it's just as well. It's part of why there's so much emotion around this decision. As I said to Larry, it's not just a job. It's my only job. It's the only real, professional job I've ever had and I have a lot of identity tied up with it. My job goes a long way towards identifying me to other people, if not to myself, and even when I've hated it, I've managed to give a good impression about it to the outside world. Many people think I love my job. I've convinced many others that it's important. I don't know that it isn't. I do know that it's sucking the life out of me and I have to get out--at least for a while.

I want to write some more about work, career choices and the boxes we put ourselves in, but that will have to wait until tomorrow because I'm going to a g-ddamn happy hour now if it kills me.

Grateful for: TR. Who knew?

Back to the grind

Today, the first day back at work in a week, was deadly mediocre. Almost right off the bat, I snapped at TR AND Larry (old boss). I was complaining about a distant employee who asked me to fax him a document that he first requested in 2005. Obviously, I'd faxed it to him back then and, today, I found the document in my files with the fax cover sheet and date "5/2/2005" marked on it. I faxed it to the dude who didn't apologize for his error--but he did thank me. Annoying!

Anyway, I decide to complain a bit to TR and Larry walks in so I tell them both the story, in my typical animated fashion. Their reaction? "Don't be angry!" "Calm down!" "Let it go!" "Nothing to be done!" Chortle, chortle, chortle. Look, I wasn't angry, per se, more frustrated. I wanted to vent--these two vent all the time! I kind of let them have it, "You can't express an emotion around here without being told to calm down! Don't tell me how to feel! I'm just venting! It's not like I called [the dude] and yelled at him--that's why I'm talking to you!" And I stomped into my office.

Great start. Someone needs to get out of here, no?

Plus, I was assigned to co-lead a project with Mandy. No, I don't think so. She can do it on her own or I'll take it but no way am I working with her. We did it together last year because my jury duty interfered with my being in sole charge. I didn't enjoy working with her then and after all that mess around my birthday, I'm not going to do it now. I emailed the person coordinating this and said I thought it was a one person job and Mandy can have it if she wants it. He replied and cc'd her. Nice. No word back from Mandy yet. Wonder how that will wash out!

I also had another round with my condo-mates. I'm trying to resign from my position of treasurer in anticipation of my "sabbatical." (Can I stop using the quotes? Is it really happening?) I wrote to them over a week ago telling them about my departure. No response. Today I wrote and said I'd be resigning as of April 15th. The two responses were as follows:

Response #1: Can we talk about looking into an outside management company? I would love to help out but I'm at work 90% of the time and I'm fearful I won't be able to commit myself to the position of treasurer. It seems that we are all stretched very thin, and that this has been problematic in arranging meetings and new positions in the past. Any thoughts on this? Of course majority rules so I will go with whatever the majority wants.

Response #2: An outside company might have to be the solution. With teaching full time and a new baby I am already stressed to the max.

They are unclear on the concept. We need a treasurer NO MATTER WHAT. Let's say we hire an outside property manager (fairly foolish for a four-unit building, but whatever). We'd need to pay them, so we'd still have to manage a bank account. Plus, we'd have to AUDIT them, to make sure they are paying the bills correctly, not overcharging us, etc. So, even if we could off-load the maintenance, we still need a treasurer and a president and a secretary, etc., just as our bylaws require.

My response was a long-ish email where I stated:

1. It would probably increase our fees by 50 to 100 percent to hire an outside company.
2. I was not available to research, hire or manage such a company.
   
3. The exact treasurer duties and the time it takes to carry them out (about two hours per month).
4. That we need a treasurer even if we hire a property manager. Duh.
   

Lord, I hate these people. Ok, not hate, but I'm fed up with them. I went to tell TR. I didn't tell him why I was trying to resign and, luckily, he's not a terribly inquisitive person.

I said, "I'm trying to resign as treasurer of my condo association."

He laughed.

I gave him the details.

He said, "Basically, once you're treasurer, you can't resign. Remember Greg (a retired colleague)? He was treasurer of the fitness center here and he couldn't get out of it until he retired!"

I sighed. TR went home. I really need to tell him my plan. I'm nervous.

How can I continue to be treasurer? I refuse! How can someone use a full time job and/or a baby as an excuse not to take on such a relatively simple job? The third condo-mate who didn't respond coordinated all the most recent building repairs, so she is exempt. The two that did reply? As far as I know, the lady who is stressed to the max hasn't lifted a finger around the place--EVER. Is two hours a month too much to ask? Puh-leez! Can you blame me for hating them?

I need a new attitude.

Oh: one piece of good news. I have a prospective sublettor coming by the house tonight. He's a friend of mine and it would be PERFECT if this worked out. Wish me luck!

Grateful for: responsibility.