It's official. I am now a contract worker for a community safety association in my hometown.
You know that media launch I was working on last month? Well, it was a resounding success. So much in fact, that I was personally recognized in the speeches and thanked profusely. It led to more work helping to organize a golf tournament, and today, I headed in to continue my work on the neighbourhood program I helped to launch to the masses. It's a good day, blogosphere.
Now in saying that, the gig is not full-time. Yet. There's pesky budgets and government funding to go through first, which can mean a lot of red tape. But, I'm in a unique position to market myself to government agencies, associations and the like. I'm gaining experience and confidence, sloughing off the asswipes and their negativity at Cell Block C.
Funny you should mention them... two of the wardens were at the golf tournament last week. And, as I figured it was ass-kissing time, but this time it was my ass being kissed. Guilt does a wonderous thing to people. I was professional at all times. I didn't take out the shiv I had prepared just in case. I also didn't ram their head into the putting contest billboard, though the bile still formed in my throat.
The best thing about being on this journey is the realization that I will be okay and that the job that had me in ulcers means nothing in the long-term. What matters is that I move forward, upward and onward with my head held high and a skip to my step. But, if you don't mind, I think I'll still hang onto the shiv just to keep my gangsta rep intact...