I’ve been working on it for a while now, but I think it’s safe to say that I’ve finally managed to merge almost all of my communications tools into the Google Apps environment. That means that with the exception of the WordPress platform that actually hosts the blog, I can manage every aspect of http://www.jeffreytharp.com from my Google dashboard. Sure, that doesn’t seem like a big deal, but remember, I’m not a gearhead when it comes to tech. For the most part, I can’t tell you why things work, but I’m pretty good at telling when things work well and picking apart where they need to work better. With this last update of the apps dashboard, I was finally able to sync the iPhone with my hosted email/address book without using a clunky and inelegant work around that involved regularly porting my actual address book to a dummy Gmail address I had to set up just for OTA syncing. Now that they’ve fixed the glitch, I’m pleased with the near 100% integration and the ability to essentially run my life and my public voice from a single point of contact. Maybe someday I’ll take another look at Blogger and see if I can round out my reliance on the Google universe. But for the time being, I’m happy with WordPress and it seems like the place to stay until I find some strongly compelling reason to relocate. Maybe I can convince myself to take on the reorganization and facelift in the near future and close out this latest round of productivity. Until then, you can find me in the cloud.
Author Archives: jdtharp
Mr. Freeze…
It snowed in West Tennessee today, but that’s not exactly the freeze that is troubling me at the moment. It seems that news of my imminent departure for Pennsylvania was broken prematurely. Though not quite ready to retract the story, I’m moving it from the “cautiously optimistic” column to the “possible” category. It seems that in the interests of driving down operating expenses, Uncle has imposed a 30-day hiring freeze for civilian positions with the Department of the Army. Tacking that 30 days onto the 20 I had already waited to get the official offer and I can’t in good conscience rely on seeing a positive outcome. I suspect the human resources policy geniuses deep in the bowels of the Pentagon are using this 30-day hiring holiday to devise even more diabolical procedures that will make hiring and transfers even more complicated, cumbersome, and time consuming than they already are. None of this bodes well for a speedy exodus from the current unpleasantness. My expectations of enjoying springtime in Pennsylvania are fading rapidly.
This is why I’m generally happier when I’m in full pessimist mode – disappointments there don’t come as a surprise. They’re just the normal state of affairs and when things did go right, it’s an occasional pleasant surprise. I don’t know that I could ever be a real optimist. I couldn’t tolerate being so regularly disappointed when things go to hell in a handcart. At this point I’m driving on purely because I trust absolutely in my own abilities and the simple fact another six months of uncertainty is better than the absolute certainty of being stuck where I am. Just call me Mr. Freeze.
Chaos Theory?
I can tell by the gently worded reminder from WordPress that it’s time to renew my domain mapping fee, that this little endeavor is slipping towards its one year anniversary. It’s been said that time flies when you’re having fun. Apparently it also flies when you spend most of you free time plotting ways to extract yourself from situations less than good. That’s not to say that it hasn’t been a good year overall. Me and mine all remain on the correct side of the dirt, so really, everything else is just gravy. Still, though, it doesn’t feel like a year since I started poking around at this thing. I’ve been toying around with the idea of a facelift for the site. Maybe revamping the tags, lists, and sidebars. I wish I had spent a little more time learning the controls before diving right into with a new host. There are alot of the layout that I’m not quite pleased with, but just haven’t taken the time to make right.
One of the biggest issues I’m currently having with blogging is what feels like a lack of focus. Sure, I’m writing whatever happens to be on my mind at the time, but aside from “work sucks, trying to change it” and “people suck, trying to avoid them” there isn’t much of a thread that unifies the whole. Categories and tags are haphazardly applied (when I remember to list them at all) and it feels a bit like every post is adding that much more chaos to the mix. Was that a long way of saying I’d like my place in the internet to be as well-ordered as my place in the real world? Probably. OCD clearly doesn’t make a distinction between the real world and the electronic one. In a perfect world, I’d have my message calendar all mapped out months in advance and know exactly when I wanted to write about which topics. Not a chance of that happening any time in the near future, so I’ll content myself with coming up with a way to make it all a little more coherent.
You may see some changes in the next couple of days/weeks or you might not. It mostly depends on whether the dust building up on every flat surface of the house or the disorganized musings of my curmudgeonly mind win the prize as most in need of a good going after. Of course it also depends on how much time Maggie gives me before trying to climb up on the desk… Like she’s doing now.
Terms…
It’s possible that I’m starting to come to terms with living in a state of perpetual uncertainty. Maybe there’s a two week maximum on anxiety of this sort. After taking counsel in a dear friend last night, I’m reminded that getting things done the Army way can take much, much longer than should be reasonably expected. It’s not so much that I don’t care as it is that I’ve seemed to move beyond the point where fretting about it is worth the effort. It’s really an occasion where all there is to be done is lie back and think of England. The alternative is to pick up the phone and start ranting like a lunatic at the guy I’m hoping to work for at some point in the near future. That would probably be the operative definition of a situation other than good at this point. So, until further notice, I wait… and wait… and wait. At some point even the bureaucracy has to grind its way into an actual decision, right?
And holding…
Tuesday will make two weeks that I’ve been sitting on the edge of my seat. No one knows that the gears of the bureaucracy grind slowly better than I do, but seriously all I’m waiting for is one simple phone call. I get that there is a laundry list of things that has to get done before making that call, but two weeks doesn’t seem like an unreasonable amount of time to get those widgets lined up. If I weren’t so stoked at the idea of bringing an end to my long mid-southern exile, I’d probably have more patience with the process. As it is, I’m feeling a bit like a 16 year old girl waiting to get asked to the prom. Honest. I sit at my desk waiting for the little blue light to flash. Or more often, obsess over why it’s not flashing.
I’m really, really ready to get this waiting part of the exercise over with. Every day, I wake up and grab on to the idea that today will be the day. I have to. Hope in getting that call is just about the only thing keeping me from climbing a nice belltower somewhere.
Chow…
Sugar free Jello is food, I suppose, if you use the broadest possible definition. Having no actual nutritional value and minimal taste, it ranks somewhere between cardboard and unflavored rice cakes on the list of things I want to eat. But there it is in the fridge. A new week, a new flavor. This week is orange. Last week was cherry. It takes most of the edge off of a nagging sweet tooth, but that’s about the only positive thing I’ll say about it.
I miss food that’s filling. I miss pasta and rice. I miss potato-based products. And lord almighty, I miss Wonder bread. Baby carrots and house salads the size of your head just don’t pack the same satisfaction of a plate of spaghetti or giant sandwich. Everything I’ve read says “there’s no reason to feel deprived” on a low carb diet… But pretty much all I’m feeling is deprived.
Meh. I’m going to bed to dream about penne and garlic bread.
Virtues…
It’s said that patience is a virtue. It is, however, not one that’s ever been visited upon me. I got the genes for impatience and a general tendency towards the impulsive. In fact not turning the living room into a giant cardboard box fort in three day orgy of packing is becoming the most difficult thing I’ve done in a long time. Such is my readiness to pull up stakes in Memphis and depart for climates north of the Mason Dixon Line.
All it takes is a simple phone call and all this pent up angst can come to an end. To be replaced, of course, by dozens of frantic moments trying to put everything in place on this end and that. At least then I’ll be doing something. As it is now, I’m sitting here looking at a room full of things that need to be packed up and endlessly stalking realtor.com. Neither of which feels particularly productive at the moment.
Have patience, they say. If anyone’s got the trick to that, I’m all ears.
Purgatory…
No question about it, I’ve been slacking when it comes to posting. It’s been a bit of a week. I know that I have a formal job offer from a command in Pennsylvania that will remain nameless for now, but at the moment, I’m stuck in a state of suspended animation… somewhere between leaving the old job and arriving at the new one. Since I haven’t gotten the “official” offer yet, there’s really not much to do besides the pre-pre-planning kind of things; looking at the big picture what’s and hows of a cross-continental move. It’s too early yet to even start thinking about specifics like dates or the mechanics behind the move would work. That’s basically the long version of saying I’m effectively in a state of human resource-induced purgatory.
I’ve done this a few times now and know that when the clock starts running, things are going to start happening very quickly. Lots of decisions are going to be made in haste and things won’t slow down for 45-60 days. So yeah, there’s a pretty narrow lane of things I can do now to try getting ready. I’ve basically stopped buying groceries and started burning through whatever I have stocked in the freezer and pantry. Making good progress there. This morning I packed up the guest bedroom and bathroom. Basically everything in those two rooms is ready to be put on a truck. Maybe most important, I’ve started filling a Rubbermaid tub with the wires, cables, and accessories I’ll need to set up a TV and a wireless network whenever I get where I’m going. I figure as long as I have those, I can work out the rest on the other end.
The next step is to strip off, wrap, and pack all the nicknacks in the living room and office. Then there’s the great boxing of the books. That one always takes a while. Once that’s finished, we’re down to the kitchen and bedroom. Those I’ll hold off on until the last minute. Having one room that isn’t piled to the rafters with boxes seems to help preserve at least a touch of sanity. The truth is, I have no idea how long it’s going to take to to get the formal offer in hand and it’s entirely possible that I’m jumping the gun by a factor of weeks here – but the boxes strewn around the house and an email from Pennsylvania are currently the only real, tangible sign that I’m escaping from Memphis and the slow motion train wreck that is the office here. If it sounds like I’ve gone from cautiously optimistic to paranoid, there’s probably a good reason for that. This is the government and until the ink is dry on the paperwork, nearly anything can happen… and I’m terrified that if I breath wrong, the wheels could fall off. Sure, the probability of success is well over 99%, but the 99% is never what keeps you up at night. I’m ready to get this show on the road and every day that does by makes me a little more jumpy, even though I know it’s perfectly normal. Fun stuff, right?
Interview with a Logistician…
To date, I’ve cast 119 resumes into the great wind that is the Army’s civilian personnel system. When you’re dealing with that kind of volume, it’s impossible to tailor each one to a specific job opening. Your best hope is that if you through enough of them against the wall, maybe, somehow, some of them will start to stick. It seems that I’m at least starting to fall into that category now – where at least a few of those resumes have found their way in front of people who are actually doing the hiring.
Yesterday was the first job I’ve interviewed for since 2002. In the interest of not jinxing myself too badly, I’m won’t get into specifics about what or where, other than to say that I’m cautiously optimistic and seem to have passed through the first round enroute to a follow-on discussion with the potential uberboss. In theory, that should take place sometime before the end of this week. After that, it takes however long it takes for the selection and notification process to work its way through to the end. It’s not generally something that happens with great rapidity.
Assuming for a moment that I actually get an offer, a whole series of questions then immediately come into play – Am I willing to sacrifice grade for more favorable geography and will doing so irreparably damage my career? Can I sustain financing a condo in Maryland, a house in Tennessee, and another place to call home all at the same time? Maybe more troubling is the nagging fear that if I jump at the first offer, I’m closing the door on a more lucrative offer at some point in the future or the even more nagging fear that the next offer could be another six months in coming. It’s the kind of decision that’s easy in theory, but in practice, well, becomes fraught with any number of potential issues.
There’s no call to worry about any of those just yet, though. For now, I’ll be happy that I at least got one opportunity to make my case. What happens next is, mostly, out of my hands – but you can bet I’ll be looking to send out resume number 120 first thing tomorrow morning.
Not indestructible…
I’ve been going to the doctor alot lately. Probably more often in the last two months than in the last five or ten years combined. It seems that, and alot of years of hard living and not are coming home to roost. What started off as a simple complaint of not sleeping and extreme thirst have become a diagnosis of Type 2 Diabetes. Not what I wanted to hear on Friday afternoon, but not hard to predict with my love of all things sweet and carb-y. My A1C wasn’t quite off the charts, but high enough to get a “wow” from Dr. Good News. My blood sugar came in north of 180 and I know it’s gone higher than that in the last month… I didn’t get a “wow” for that one.
So yeah, Dr. Killjoy sat me down for the come-to-Jesus talk about getting right with my diet and less than casual acquaintance with exercise (apparently walking from the truck to the office doesn’t count). I’m pretty sure he was trying to scare me straight with talk about insulin, but my 
pain avoidance instinct is strong enough to want to avoid the needle if at all possible. I guess we’ll burn that bridge when we get to it. For the time being, I have a stack of new meds and will be hoping for better living through chemistry.
Last night was the great cleaning of the pantry – out with carb-y noms like cereal, pasta, juices, pop tarts, my beloved gummy bears, and maybe worst of all, the Blue Moon that was chilling in the fridge. I’ve got a fridge now full of dairy, protein, and vegetables – most of which I have no idea how to actually cook. It’s really like looking into someone else’s kitchen. Of course that’s nothing compared to the looks I’ve been giving the 
exercise bike that now lives in the spare bedroom – because, let’s face it, even on pain of death, I’m not bloody likely to go walk around the neighborhood in the cold. Exercise that can be done while watching TV seemed like something I would at least be able to tolerate.
I’m uneasy with change as a matter of principle and the change being called for here is no small order. It’s basically undoing just about every habit I’ve developed over the last 15 years. Apparently I’m not indestructible after all. That’s a tough one to come to terms with. There’s a fair chance that everything about this process will annoy, anger, or otherwise make me want to beat myself unconscious with a celery stalk… and when it does, you’ll hear it here first.
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