skreidleJournal

From today's Ask A Manager update:

I am still job searching. It's extremely rough out there, and I have not been able to get very far in interviews for the same job I left at this company because I am so early career. I've been getting feedback from companies when they do not move forward with me that they just have more candidates with more experience, always.

Money is at least sorted for the short-term. Assuming I can in fact sell this place and find somewhere else to live, it's sorted medium-term as well. Beyond that, I refer you to John Maynard Keynes: "In the long run, we are all dead."

(Context makes that quote much more interesting than simple fatalism. Keynes was arguing with someone claiming that certain economic policies would make things worse in the short term but in the long run we'd all be much better off. Keynes believed strongly in fixing what we could now, an attitude I appreciate even when I have trouble implementing it. Can't have a better future if you can't get yourself into the future.)

Books on shelves, roof overhead, food in pantry, snoring cat. Breaking out the xmas stuff this weekend, I think. Could be worse.

Took Mr Tuppert in to the vet today for his annual vaccines. Apparently when you get a rabies shot they give you a cute lil tag. I may put that on his collar, Just In Case. The odds of him getting out are basically nil but why take chances.

He's got a heart murmur, but it looks like that came up last time, and it's not gotten any worse, so that's just a Thing That Exists. Between that, the one tooth that the vet's been warning me about since he arrived, and what might be early-stage arthritis, this is a cat that is made of Problems (But Not Yet). I'm okay with that. Chaos started showing wear at about this point (thirteen-ish) as well, and he got another four years after that.

I did have a moment of "oh no" when the vet-tech took him to the back for shots and blood-drawing. Nothing real or serious, just the sudden realisation that I'm not nearly ready for him to go away, to be taken into a room by a kind and gentle tech and not come back out again. Of course I'll be there when it happens, this time, but still.

When we got home I gave him a little bit of tunafish, and filled up his treat-puzzle with treats. I don't think he's gotten -all- of them yet but he certainly spent some good time snuffling and crunching. Currently he is sacked out on the bed Recovering. Seems fair.