Changed Landscape

Here's the deal . . . my life landscape has changed. And it's done so rather quickly. There are several things happening at once. The good ones are personal. The scary, professional.

The Good . . . I am trying to become The Woman I Want to Be. This includes exercising more seriously and more frequently. So far, I have LOST weight since I've been off the ice, which never happens. Usually by May, I have gained 10 pounds. I am teaching myself new things, mainly quilting, which is bringing me a new kind of zen joy I never would have imagined. I am saving money, recycling more, buying less, taking my lunch to work, cooking real food, conserving water, and taking myself seriously. All the things The Woman I Want to Be would do. Personally, I feel more and more on top of my game.

The Scary . . . My work situation has CHANGED. My boss just quit. It was time. She had fought a good fight, and now she has a great opportunity. It will give her more time to be with the people she loves. It's the right thing. But, it has left a HUGE, sucking hole in her wake. My desk is right outside her old office and the whole area of the building is now dim. She is a natural born leader. Fair and kind and competent and capable . . . and she glows. She glows a bright yellow light out of her middle. I shit you not. She glows yellow. And now she's not around. Before she ascended into the job, there was another great woman in the position. South Pole had a really great run there, for what? . . . Seven years?

And now, the heir apparent is a guy. An engineer guy who's heart is probably in the right place, but who doesn't seem up to the task. His personal life is messy and keeps him away from the office several afternoons a week and every other Friday. He has never been able to keep up with all his emails and get things done on time. His powers of observation are about as sharp as a blind lump of clay. Now he's about to step into the most challenging role in the group. A role that is 24/7 on call. A role that manages an entire city of responsibility, caked in a mess of political negotiation. A role that requires multitasking, people skills, baby sitting, and state department level decision making (Literally. State Department). And here's this guy who doesn't and can't and . . . I could go on and on about him, but that's not really the point.

The point is . . . South Pole has changed. And it's dim and scary and dull and sad right this minute.

To add another layer of difficulty . . . on Friday I found out my ex-great-boss' pretty great boss has resigned in frustration as well. So, the only hope for someone capable enough to help lead the new guy through it, is now leaving.

You see, my company's contract with the NSF has two years left. After that, we will most likely change hands. The possibility is high that a new contractor would hire most of us on. Not the tall poppies, but the worker people. They wouldn't be able to fire everyone and find 2,000 new people who could waltz in and run Antarctica. But, that situation is coloring the whole place gray. People are bailing on all sides, jumping out of this sinking ship. For those of us who are choosing to stay, there is a mood that it no longer matters. Two years? We can endure this hell for two more years. We can live through anything for two years.

But, can I?

There's the big question. Can I live through what will surely become chaos for two years . . . still love the work I do and the program itself . . . and ready myself for the next contractor? And what does "ready myself" mean?

Here's what became true this past week . . . I realized I want to ascend. I want to know more about the big picture of this . . . and I would love to make some decisions about the future. I want to spend these two miserable, dead years preparing myself to take over. I don't want it now . . . because Directors are lopped off . . . but I want to be ready when the new opportunities come.

And that's kind of new for me.

I still want to write the HBO series and weld and garden and run a foundation and move to Wisconsin . . . but none of that will pay the bills right now. I work here. I work here. And I need to make it work for me. I need to learn new things and stretch a bit.

And, I'm trying to make that not feel like a cop out. So many folks around me are writing their new chapters elsewhere. Can I write a new chapter by staying put?