The Bloody Doors Off

I had a truly lascivious story treatment for The Goldbergs. It was set in their possible future; after being married for a few years, Erica tells Geoff she wants to open up the marriage. And Geoff, milquetoast that he is, agrees to it only he’s a bigger hit in the swinger community than Erica is.

There was more.

But then I got to my page to write this blog and.

They changed the sans serif font to a serif one.

I don’t like it.

Not one bit.

The font is smaller, too.

And in looking to see if I can rectify this ‘upgrade’, I accidentally turn on Edit in HTML.

Which freaked me out and reminded me of my contract at BMO. One of the requirements was to create an electronic newsletter once a week, in HTML. I never let on but the first few weeks my anxiety was off the charts. I eventually settled into a rhythm and gained enough knowledge to troubleshoot the most basic errors.

That was a freakin’ great contract. Booked four months, stayed over a year.

I’d have stayed if they could’ve kept me.

But that’s the financial industry. There’s gonna be cutbacks eventually.

I started freelancing in September 2012.

After more cutbacks. A job I’d been in since 2008 (I worked over a decade prior with CIBC World Markets until. Cutbacks.)

I’d like to stop freelancing, please.

I’d like a full-time job. Something with benefits.

So I can provide for my family.

I’m.

I’m failing as a provider.

Yes, yes, let’s abolish those ‘hetero’ norms or the perceived masculine identity politics of 1955. Women can do any job a man can, blah blah.

I know all that.

I feel like I should be doing more.

And I don’t mean extra laundry, or cooking or walking the dog.

Shit. I have to walk the dog.

(Comes back an hour later.)

I don’t know what I was trying to say.

The hetero norms thing? Wow. That was ballsy.

And face-planting.

Fine. I’m not a philosopher. I’m a desktop publisher and graphic designer. I deal in the meat and potatoes of InDesign, Word, PowerPoint, yada yada.

I nearly got hired back in March. Remember?

It was between me and one other guy.

“He is a better fit for our company.” Because we’re… working from home? I dunno.

But a month later, they came back and contracted me for six months of sporadic, but kinda interesting, work for their clients. One person even said she was looking to create a new position for me. But that never materialized.

When I was working long-term contracts, I could contribute financially. But now? I’m barely able to pay for my medications.

And all the work done on my teeth? Out of pocket. Trillium doesn’t cover dental. (They should.)

A few years back, I had to go to one of three prescribed stores by Ontario Works in order for the province to pay for my bifocals.

(How to know you’re officially old. You can’t read the damned instructions on a frozen dinner box without the aid of a magnifying glass, you take half your teeth out in order to brush them.

You turn 55.)

Now I know why that number scares me. It conjures up an image of a potential employer who, when they ask me “where do you see yourself in five years”, that my answer will be “living off your pension”.

Go through Second Career?

I’m already on my second career.

Have been since 2012.

And it could be going better.