Did I mention that I hate roller coasters? This last week has been one.
Tuesday started out great -- Naomi picked me up and drove us down to
Cortiva, her massage school, which was having a free clinic day. I had
two lovely massages, concentrating on my back, shoulders, arms, hands, and
calves. N's new GF was there, too. We had a couple of nice talks.
Then at 4pm I was in a suspiciously small meeting with Ryan, the manager
in charge of the Disney ID group, who had hired me back in October. Sure
enough, there had been a surprise budget cut. My last day will be March
Same day as the house closing. Oops.
From there it was all downhill; I gave the bad news to our real estate
broker, who at first said to go through with it anyway, and then had
second thoughts. Thursday I spent packing, trying to work from home,
fielded a phone call from a headhunter and a phone interview with
Limelight Video Platform. (I now have three headhunters and one company
recruiter working on the problem, and it looks as though there won't be
much more than a few weeks of gap between jobs.)
I also spent Thursday getting more and more fragile and frazzled; by the
time we got to the airport I was pretty much a wreck, and by the time we
finally got in to the hotel and got to bed I was seriously depressed.
Sometime Friday morning, while I was out at Fry's buying a new power brick
for the netbook (I'd brought one; I just didn't realize that it was still
set up for Colleen's Dell), I got a call from the mortgage broker,
Kathryn, who said that the deal was still on. She'd explained to Dave
that, although Disney had terminated my contract early, I was still
employed by the contract agency, KForce. SHE UNDERSTANDS!
Now, if only the underwriter understands. That's still a risk,
and I'm not going to be comfortable until I have the keys in my hot little
hands. It could make my last day at Disney rather interesting.
And we could still end up with no house, and a pile of new furniture in
our living rooms. If that happens, Naomi wants to build. I think that
could work, but only if we can figure out ways to cut the price
drastically; a first cut put the construction costs at around $700K, which
is about twice what I'd feel comfortable with.
This old spectacled bear is, I'm afraid, also a skeptical bear.
But, after spending much of Friday afternoon chasing down pay stubs and
bank statements and emailing them to Kathryn, I felt much more relaxed.
Margaritas, prime rib, and hugs from friends completed the process, and it
looks like I'll actually be able to enjoy the con.
Did I mention that I'm at Consonance this weekend? I apparently hadn't
mentioned it before, leading to several people wondering whether we'd show
up this year. There were times when I had my doubts.
( raw notes )