Monday with a Dash of Melancholy

I returned from the holiday break to a pretty significant stack of work on this fine Monday morning.  Before I really hit my stride in the cubicle farm, I did get out and worry the asphalt a little this morning in what I'd characterize as the first "real" winter day that we've had this season.

Anacostia Morning with the USS Barry

Being a Monday, I ground out a little over seven miles before hitting the shower, and I saw the first snow flurries waft lightly through the air.  The temperature wasn't truly biting being in the mid to low thirties with no wind, but it never really got significantly warmer all afternoon, and I suspect that the clear sky this evening portents a pretty brisk experience tomorrow.

In addition to the normal work (generally consisting of moving paper from one side of the country to another) ramping up after an extended break for a good number of the folks in the office, I'm facing a bit of a reckoning in that now is the promotion season for people of my vintage. I'm tracking down evaluations and kudos, and other administrative type paperwork in support of this effort and I discovered that about ten weeks of my time over the last nineteen and a half years seems to have been officially undocumented. People I trust tell me that this is a pretty big deal to these sorts of promotion activities, but I'm having a bit of a hard time reconciling that stance.  My reaction to that reality is to revert to a contemplative and a bit melancholy mood.

Ten weeks represents a little less than one percent of the time that I've given over to my current profession, and I find it hard to believe that the time period in question, one that should rightfully be documented by a piece of paper acknowledging that my boss at the time simply did not have enough time to observe my performance due to the circumstances surrounding both of our comings and goings, is much of a who-haw at all. The circumstances really make me question whether I want to continue in the employment of an organization with a focus on that kind of value.

Truth be told, the walking started off as I've admitted in the past, as a bit of an escape fantasy. These types of circumstances, among a host of others, make that level of escapism seem pretty rational to me.

We'll see where this all lands, and it's been good to be presented with these dilemmas to contemplate. I will also do what I can to fill the gap in the documentation, but frankly, I'm finding it difficult to muster much of a damn if I'm successful or not.

Until then, I'll keep hitting the trail on a journey that has become more of an adventure of discovery rather than an escapist retreat. If the weather forecast holds for tomorrow, the 18 degree temperature will be a good first test of my willingness to break out several layers of the appropriate clothing.