This is it! The final day of the most pathetic fire season in a 20 year career. Yes, I know the whole goddamn West burned to the ground, but for some reason I was not invited. I got to sit here in Bubbaville and keep an Org chart in good working order. Sweet. Recent events, however, have led me to believe spending 2 years and a good deal of coin on getting the GIS degree was a good call after all. And this stupid gig helped fund it so I can’t get too pissy.
I never take online jobs sites seriously. Yeah, I’m going to post a resume and the world will come knocking at my door. Go fuck yourself. Well, I figured it couldn’t hurt as I’ve flung a number of resumes out there to crickets, so who not?

Miracle of miracles, 2 days after posting a resume on a jobs site I got an email about a potential gig, responded to without much real thought because nobody gets anything that way, right? Got a call yesterday setting up an interview for a “Forbes Top 50” tech company as a GIS tech. Apparently they like my resume enough the initial 15 minute screened interview got skipped and tomorrow AM I have a real, proper official interview to see if I’m fit for the gig. A 1 year contract requiring a move to the south Bay Area in Cali and, I’m sure, many very long days grinding through a mish-mash of data to help make someone’s troubled mapping application top notch.

On top of this potential sweet news, there is a strong possibility of a gig in PDX should this one not pan out. Holy shit! Opportunity!?!?!? Coming from a position not that many years ago of having been on food stamps and house sitting for traveling friends to keep a roof over my head, this is a damn fine spot to be in.

As much as I poo-poo this current stupid fucking gig, I have to give it credit for how where things are at today. It has provided a modicum of security and consistency, both financially and locationally, to allow a return to living forward, not just surviving. And I got some sweet photos out of the whole thing. Oh, and a girl friend. Not used to that yet.

Once again, the conundrum of which direction life will flow is up in the air. PDX or Cali? Find a storage unit to stuff my shit into if Cali, sort it all again and haul the remains to PDX? We shall soon see. Funny how living out of a Subaru at 44 feels more secure than it ever has. I know the scope of my world, responsibilities, and desires. Fewer and fewer material goods that don’t directly serve a purpose. A good deal of sweet gear to beat the shit out of now that I’m nearly healed back up. A caring, adventurous and entertaining partner. What more could one ask for?