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limbo city

Time, it seems, is rapidly running past me.  Sprinting on from May, through June, and then damned if isn’t July already.  I’m overdue for a good update, and I owe a few of you some solid emails, but I can’t say that either of those things is going to happen soon.  I’m working and skiing nonstop – I work every other day, finishing at the lodge just in time to grab food and a shower and head to work at the restaurant.  And on my off days I’m cruising on the mountain, driving down just in time to grab food and a shower.  I work five nights out of seven, usually til ten or eleven, then up again at seven am.  So I’m busy.  It’s great to be settled, to have a place that’s all mine, to have a routine, and (duh) to be skiing as much as I want.  I’m not complaining about the work, though I do apologize that it’s keeping me from you all, faithful readers.  It’s this other thing…

I’ve applied for a job working on the American Antarctic research base, McMurdo Station.  I met an American couple from New Mexico when I was still working in Tekapo, and found out from them that the US Antarctic Program (USAP) hires civilians and non-scientists to do all of the grunt work – data entry, housekeeping, garbage removal, ec.  Was I interested in working there, they asked?  YES.   Oh, my God, yes.  It never occurred to me that normal people could get jobs down there – could live down there!  I’ve been going through the steps to get a job in the cafeteria (just call me the lunch lady), jumping through the hoops and scaling the mountains of application paperwork, even conducting my job interview from a freezing payphone in Arthur’s Pass at two o’clock one frosty, 33 degree morning.  Three months later, they want me!  They’ve offered me a job as not just a dining room attendant (DA, as they’re called), but as a Lead DA – a manager.  Here’s the catch – deployment is August 20th.  I’m meant to be working here, in Methven, until October.  My job at the lodge is such that I haven’t been able to tell Jenny, the woman I work for, what I’m planning, what I’ve been doing.  If I take this USAP job and leave, I’ll be heading back to the US within days from now, with no notice, no warning.  See ya later, buh-bye.  This alone is making me feel guilty and heartsick.  But wait, there’s more.  I may not be eligible to accept the USAP job offer.  I’ve got heaps of experience as a manager (CUFS, RA, Seacoast Rep), but not enough specifically in food service.  The hiring people within the USAP are going to bat for me, working to convince the powers that be to bend the rules for me.  Still, there’s no word whether they’re having any success.  I can’t make plans to fly home, to sell my car, to break the news to Jenny, because I still don’t know if I’m going.  And, as I noted earlier, time is a-runnin’.

This is where I’m at…walking the wrong way on a moving sidewalk, waiting, waiting, waiting.  Going nowhere, but finding it difficult to enjoy the place I’m in.  Purgatorio, I feel, just might be worse than Inferno.  You will excuse me, then, if I lack the enthusiasm and energy to be communicative and creative.  I promise you this, though – you’ll know as soon as I do.  Wish me luck, and a speedy resolution!

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