Well, that was fun

So I went through my hard drive, searching in my documents under "Xanga," "My Strands," "Writings," "VIgnettes" and anything else I could think of to find past attempts at computer journaling and blogging. I have offered them here, for what it's worth. Many of them didn't make the cut, because I don't think my friends and family would be able to get together the sum it would take to bail me out of jail if such postings were made public.

I had a miserable block of time at my job of 35 years - it was toward the end of my career, which mercifully ended when we lifers got offered a buyout and I was able to retire at the age of 59. My workplace had changed from a congenial, family-like atmosphere of participatory management and freedom to be outrageous to a divide and conquer, corporate takeover mentality replete with branding, taglines, elevator speeches, upselling, and disciplinary action up the wazoo. Supervisors, formerly mentors who were supposed to coach staff, began to be required to write us up for the slightest infraction. My personality clashed with the fake personality I tried to acquire to survive there. When I left - luckily with an honorable discharge (retirement) - there were too many layoffs for me to count here. I survived the Titanic and I still have the scars.

Revisiting those days has been therapeutic. It teaches me that there is nothing - absolutely nothing in my life now that warrants complaint. The biggest problem at hand as I write this post is our futile search for a full replay of the figure skating gala finale at Sochi. Who got the rights and whisked it away? It's snowing and I want to watch skating. Real skating. Not slideshows. Not pictures. Skating! I should know how to find this on the Internet. After all, I was a librarian.

Sort of.