Good Mood

Life is insane. My beloved and I are in the midst of moving back to our native Central California because we can't stand it where we are, more or less. When we got to where we are, we were promised a lot of things by our current employer that simply didn't happen. I know that happens with every job where the employer actually wants to hire you, but we weren't promised a sweet retirement deal or dental or even that we'd get weekends...ever.

We were promised a gateway into ministry, and that we would have as much leeway as we needed to serve the local church.

Pfffft. Whatever. We're a little over a year in, and this occupation has done little more than reinforce my paranoia that more than half of those in "Christian" leadership have no business there. We've been manipulated, straight up lied to, and then told it was our fault for misunderstanding the intent in the first place.

My boss boasts of "popping pills like Dr. House."

This is a good thing? Granted, he has chronic neck pain and needs most of the drugs, but he tends to forget things. Like promises to employees, tasks completed, where he puts things, scheduled meetings...things a camp director shouldn't forget. In the interest of not burning any bridges, we've decided to step out from under his leadership, and THEN deal with him, respectfully, on the things he's severely fucking up.

Like finances.

When you can't find a hammer in the shop, you organize the workshop, right? Wrong. Apparently, you buy a new hammer. The shiniest, highest tech, most expensive hammer in Home Depot. Rinse and repeat with everything on campus.

I work maintenance. You can imagine what the shop looks like. I refuse to set foot in there anymore, mostly due to the fact that you take your life into your hands when you do. Nothing is organized, save for the electrical room, which I organized about five months ago because I couldn't find anything. It took me two days and I was told, "Why are you wasting your time? Organization is not necessary when we have other things to do!"

Like what, you might ask? Hm...oh, yeah. Take the company trailer down to a Sprint store that is closing, load it up with salvaged cabinets and doors, drive it all back to camp, and let it all rot all winter. This is a better use of our time.

Oh, well. All in all, right now, I'm in a good mood. You know why? Post-coital, baby.

Twice over, if I'm lucky.