Plotting, Planning, Pitting Out

I make some more phone calls. And I get on line. I call all of my resources and references and contacts and set up job searches on all of the search engines I can think of. It is always good to get everyone working with you while your current situation is working against you.

I write some bullet points for Don. Some things I'd like him to keep top of mind while we do the dance. And then I write my work plan for the next few months. Ten weeks of specific accomplishments I will achieve. It should calm him to the point where he can stop mopping his brow. A false sense of being completely in control.

And then I get on with living. I have a few days to myself, Hil's bum leg not withstanding. I need to capitalize on every minute I have. I invite Charlotte over for coffee and a chat. I hit the trails and break a furious sweat. I clean my house. I get off Facebook, and on the job boards.

And I tell Scott.

He is supportive. What else would he be? He says I've been miserable there since day 2 so look at this as the kick in the pants I would not have given myself even if my legs did bend that way. Tells me I know I can count on him if I need anything, just in case I didn't know.

And I didn't know. I'd thought I could count on him before. It's hard to get comfortable with the idea of counting on anyone but me again.

I look at my finances. My accounts, my taxes, my excess spending. Breathe a little easier when I do the math.

On Friday, I text Don. I have left my Blackberry in the office and am on call for the weekend, because God knows when the next life or death Recruiting emergency is going to leap up and bite you on the ass. I ask if his assistant can rummage through my office, unplug it and run it down to me if I drive over the bridge. I am secretly hoping he's feeling crappy enough to tell me he'll take my call duty for me. No such luck.

Next I text his assistant, Carol, who is more my friend that's his assistant. She meets me in front of the building swearing like a sailor at what I'd told her was going on. She assures me that she will text me if there is the slightest buzz. There hasn't been.

I tell her not to worry. I have a plan.

I just haven't worked out the final details. And that is why I need to keep talking to contacts, and walking the trails, and plotting my conversation.

And later in the day I text Carol again, this time asking I to be placed on Don's calendar. She juggles some nonsense and offers me Tuesday at 4. Now that I have a deadline, I will make it happen.