The New & Unproved Work/Job/Career Thread

[washing machine]

Gave notice today. I'll be joining a more low-key neighborhood wine and tapas spot later this month. I'm leaving a high volume sports bar with very late hours. It's a lateral move on paper, but the opportunity for growth with this new group coupled with a huge shift in quality of life makes this a no-brainer. I've been with my previous bar for 6 years. Definitely hard to leave, but I'm so excited to join a culture more in line with where me and my family are at now. Feels like a weight has been lifted

[bart]

congrats reid

[tragabigzanda]

There is a wolf in me . . . fangs pointed for tearing gashes . . . a red tongue for raw meat . . . and the hot lapping of blood—I keep this wolf because the wilderness gave it to me and the wilderness will not let it go.

There is a fox in me . . . a silver-gray fox . . . I sniff and guess . . . I pick things out of the wind and air . . . I nose in the dark night and take sleepers and eat them and hide the feathers . . . I circle and loop and double-cross.

There is a hog in me . . . a snout and a belly . . . a machinery for eating and grunting . . . a machinery for sleeping satisfied in the sun—I got this too from the wilderness and the wilderness will not let it go.

There is a fish in me . . . I know I came from salt-blue water-gates . . . I scurried with shoals of herring . . . I blew waterspouts with porpoises . . . before land was . . . before the water went down . . . before Noah . . . before the first chapter of Genesis.

There is a baboon in me . . . clambering-clawed . . . dog-faced . . . yawping a galoot's hunger . . . hairy under the armpits . . . here are the hawk-eyed hankering men . . . here are the blonde and blue-eyed women . . . here they hide curled asleep waiting . . . ready to snarl and kill . . . ready to sing and give milk . . . waiting—I keep the baboon because the wilderness says so.

There is an eagle in me and a mockingbird . . . and the eagle flies among the Rocky Mountains of my dreams and fights among the Sierra crags of what I want . . . and the mockingbird warbles in the early forenoon before the dew is gone, warbles in the underbrush of my Chattanoogas of hope, gushes over the blue Ozark foothills of my wishes—And I got the eagle and the mockingbird from the wilderness.

O, I got a zoo, I got a menagerie, inside my ribs, under my bony head, under my red-valve heart—and I got something else: it is a man-child heart, a woman-child heart: it is a father and mother and lover: it came from God-Knows-Where: it is going to God-Knows-Where—For I am the keeper of the zoo: I say yes and no: I sing and kill and work: I am a pal of the world: I came from the wilderness.

[spike]

congrats reid

[bodysnatcher]

Great news wm!
Curious to hear what aging rock stars hang out near a wine and tapas bar. I’m guessing instead of a member of Eve 6 you may run into Art Alexakis or something

Will your commute be much different?

[Ello Sailor]

Geddit Reido! More family time surely beats any salary bump.

[tree_]

[tragabigzanda]

There is a wolf in me . . . fangs pointed for tearing gashes . . . a red tongue for raw meat . . . and the hot lapping of blood—I keep this wolf because the wilderness gave it to me and the wilderness will not let it go.

There is a fox in me . . . a silver-gray fox . . . I sniff and guess . . . I pick things out of the wind and air . . . I nose in the dark night and take sleepers and eat them and hide the feathers . . . I circle and loop and double-cross.

There is a hog in me . . . a snout and a belly . . . a machinery for eating and grunting . . . a machinery for sleeping satisfied in the sun—I got this too from the wilderness and the wilderness will not let it go.

There is a fish in me . . . I know I came from salt-blue water-gates . . . I scurried with shoals of herring . . . I blew waterspouts with porpoises . . . before land was . . . before the water went down . . . before Noah . . . before the first chapter of Genesis.

There is a baboon in me . . . clambering-clawed . . . dog-faced . . . yawping a galoot's hunger . . . hairy under the armpits . . . here are the hawk-eyed hankering men . . . here are the blonde and blue-eyed women . . . here they hide curled asleep waiting . . . ready to snarl and kill . . . ready to sing and give milk . . . waiting—I keep the baboon because the wilderness says so.

There is an eagle in me and a mockingbird . . . and the eagle flies among the Rocky Mountains of my dreams and fights among the Sierra crags of what I want . . . and the mockingbird warbles in the early forenoon before the dew is gone, warbles in the underbrush of my Chattanoogas of hope, gushes over the blue Ozark foothills of my wishes—And I got the eagle and the mockingbird from the wilderness.

O, I got a zoo, I got a menagerie, inside my ribs, under my bony head, under my red-valve heart—and I got something else: it is a man-child heart, a woman-child heart: it is a father and mother and lover: it came from God-Knows-Where: it is going to God-Knows-Where—For I am the keeper of the zoo: I say yes and no: I sing and kill and work: I am a pal of the world: I came from the wilderness.

[wease]

Congrats, reid

[bodysnatcher]

Great news wm!
Curious to hear what aging rock stars hang out near a wine and tapas bar. I’m guessing instead of a member of Eve 6 you may run into Art Alexakis or something

Will your commute be much different?

Art was a regular at this little sandwich shop I used to frequent in Portland. Everybody hated him because he beat up his girlfriend (or something like that).

I would hate him just bc his name is Art. No need to bring domestic violence into it.

[Ello Sailor]

Great news wm!
Curious to hear what aging rock stars hang out near a wine and tapas bar. I’m guessing instead of a member of Eve 6 you may run into Art Alexakis or something

Will your commute be much different?

Art was a regular at this little sandwich shop I used to frequent in Portland. Everybody hated him because he beat up his girlfriend (or something like that).

Everything's not so wonderful now, is it Art?

[Ello Sailor]

I would hate him just bc his name is Art. No need to bring domestic violence into it.

[tree_]

How about Arthur?

[washing machine]

Haha thanks guys. Maybe I'll see Phoebe Bridgers at this place or something. It's in a part of town that's close to the big concert venue.

My commute's all over the place. We drive like 45 minutes to drop the kid off at daycare. Actively trying to find a house closer to that school, but my commute to the new job would be about the same no matter where we live. It's the neighborhood just north of downtown. More time in the car means more time for podcasts and new music.

[tree_]

i also have a long commute. really wish i could afford an electric car

[doug rr]

congrats reid

[bart]

It’s funny, Art is such a nerdy name and yet you add a B to it and it acquires the air of a sophisticated and handsome man of the world.

[doug rr]

[LetMeSleep]

Congrats wm. I can vouch that a change in job with better home life is incredibly rewarding.

[Higgs]

Congrats wm. I can vouch that a change in job with better home life is incredibly rewarding.

Happy for both my internet friends here. Good (new) job(s) boys.