G R O W Y O U R W I N G S

So I'm changing to a different role at work and I am *so* happy about it.  It hasn't been officially announced yet, but I'm already starting to do the new job and it is so much what I want to do.  When I joined this department three years ago, the job I took was supposed to be exactly what I will be doing now.  However, the department was new and the role changed into more of a resource management role, which I hate.  I learned a lot doing it, but I am so very, very, very (did I forget to say very?) glad that I will now be able to execute and manage large-scale programs like I wanted to originally. 

I flew to the Seattle office today for a bunch of program meetings--it was so much fun and so very productive.  On the flight back to Portland this afternoon I was staring out the window trying to identify this strange feeling I was having.  Then I realized what it was--a feeling of basic happiness.  I haven't felt that way in probably three years.  I've had great days, good days, exciting days (and many awful days), but this underlying feeling of rightness and happiness just was not there.

I just hope it lasts.

I hate it when Bob or Emily are not home.  My life is Tim's school work (aka nagging) and work (aka massive conflict management, politics, and influencing--all while trying to deliver on projects.)  Work really absorbs about 10 hours of the day.  One of the good things is that Tim and I are spending a lot more time together -- such as going to see the Museum movie this weekend.  I think Tim enjoys that part of it.  Although (and he would *never* admit this) he misses both Bob and Emily.  He's always asking when they will be coming home.

Okay, so I just finished the last Torchwood episode.  This show really grew on me.  I can't wait until Season 2 comes back in the Fall. 

And there's a great fanVid for Jack and Torchwood over here.

And now for something completely different...I'm seriously considering signing up for a drawing class.  It's been years since the urge has hit me.  I found myself in an art store the other day picking up some markers for Tim and found myself fondling the colored pencils, graphite pencils, fine-tipped markers and the paper--oh the paper!  I actually bought a Prismacolor pencil (pale vermillion)--just to fondle and smell it on the drive home (how absolutely wierd is that?)  All my art junk is in boxes upstairs--perhaps it's time to break it out again.