dad wrote:As of this morning, I've been offered the position I interviewed for last week, and have formally accepted.
It could be a while before I start. It's another federal job, but a different agency so not a direct transfer.
My neighbor, who also works at the same agency as I do now, just got offered a job with this same gov entity--he's the one who told me about the job. He heard from a guy there that said the fed is getting ready to sign a bill that would give them a good bump in pay...somewhere in the 20k range, likely to take effect over this summer. If true, it's likely they're trying to keep their people from going to the private sector where they could earn more.
Anyway, the wheels are in motion. Hope this is the much-needed change I've been looking for.
Occasionally a member of my team will get me a gift ... usually for helping them out of a sticky situation with a client or some other such thing, it's usually alcohol or something Husky or Pearl Jam themed, and I never really feel like it's necessary. I'm just doing my job. But I always thank them graciously.
Anyway the latest was a Husky-themed desk mat which I gave to one of my kids to use for playing Pokemon but she also gave me a $100 bill! I didn't realize at first it was tucked into the side of the package for the mat, and by the time I noticed and told her I can't accept it she was like "nope!" turned and scurried out of my office. I thought it was a $20 at first. So now I figure I have three options. What say you, RM?
1. Give it back to her next time I see her
2. Buy her some kind of gift worth $100
3. Next time there is an opportunity to pay for lunch or drinks or something I cover it, but then it will look like I'm paying when really it's her
4. Well a fourth option, I guess, make a charitable donation in her name
I feel like I'm in a weird position here. I don't know what to do. I just know I can't accept $100 cash. It feels weird.
She is still within her first year at the company, so not a total noob but relatively new. I helped her land a huge client, but that was like 4 months ago. There have been lots of phone calls helping her with onboarding of said client and cleaning up some pre-existing issues for them, which again, just doing my job. I guess she thinks she is taking up more of my time with questions and whatnot than she feels like she should be, but I'm glad she asks so we can get it right. Also as a relative noob I know she is not making great money yet ... that will come with time, but right now $100 is a lot for her. What am I supposed to do with this money.
Carl Sandburg wrote: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.
Last edited by tragabigzanda on Wed January 14, 2026 3:05 am, edited 1 time in total.
Carl Sandburg wrote: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.
Last edited by tragabigzanda on Wed January 14, 2026 3:05 am, edited 1 time in total.
