Once upon a time in a city far, far away, I thought something had died.

There was a foul stench in the halls of our apartment, and having an overactive imagination and no true understanding of the real world despite my claims to the contrary, I immediately assumed it was the sweet smell of death:

As well, something in the building stinks. It’s a high pitched sour smell, vaguely masked by a sharp sweetness. I read too many books, and I’m now assuming that the stench I’m having to live with is actually the sweet smell of death. Something died in another apartment, and the deranged lettuce-and-fruit-salad-dropping individual can’t be bothered to dispose of the body because hey, cleaning stuff up is for losers.

We were also having an issue with someone in the apartment building throwing salad all over the stairs and not cleaning it up, but that is not important to this story.

Time passed, and the smell grew worse. For once, I wasn’t the only person who noticed something amiss, and the landlord was coerced into Doing Something about the increasingly bad smell of death wafting though the halls of our three-storey walkup.

As it turns out, the smell wasn’t death at all:

For the last little while, I’ve been hearing strange noises coming from outside my apartment window. I’ve been having a lot of trouble sleeping, so when I usually get sick of Bookworm around 3am, I crawl into bed and lie there for an hour or so hearing bangie thumpie whisper noises outside. Tonight, we found out what they were – someone had broken into our utility room/crawl space and was living there. There were porn magazines and water bottles and other assorted things down there. The creepy ass neighbours apparently knew about this, but either did nothing or just watched to see what would happen. Today the police were around, and tomorrow someone is coming to install a dead bolt on the door. This is creepy. My building is no longer a nice place to be, especially with the fragrant stench of human waste that seems to be seeping into the bottom floor of the building. Until I know further, I am blaming everything on the bitch who lives upstairs.

At the time, the “fragrant stench of human waste” was really just a euphemism. Unfortunately, it turned out to be spot on – someone had broken into our utility room in Calgary and built a highly organized nest: one corner for food and water, another strictly for masturbating to the collection of stolen porn, and a third acting as a toilet. THIS was the culprit of the smell in our hallways; actual human waste piling up beneath our building and percolating like some kind of toxic hobo stew. The utility room was cleaned out and deadbolted, and for a while things went back to normal.

Until people started masturbating next to our car, that is.

However, this is not an update about masturbation, or hoboes, or any other fond memories I have of Calgary. No, this is something much, much worse.

The smell is back.

The smell that I now know is not the smell of death at all, but of human waste – shit. Old, decaying shit.

The smell is hovering around our bedroom, just like last time. It’s worse at night, and seems to be strongest in the closet and bathroom. I don’t know where it’s coming from – it could be the suites above or below, or the bathroom we’re connected with next door via plumbing. It’s not our suite – I’ve scrubbed and cleaned and triple-checked everything, and there is nothing but bleach and a cat standing on my back.

Something is wrong somewhere in Sparta, and I can’t find the cause (and it’s not the damn lamp this time). Short of knocking on doors and asking the neighbours if they’re stock piling feces for a rainy day, I’m not sure what to do about it. There’s always incense, I suppose, but there’s only so much Nag Champa I can stand before I start thinking about giving dreadlocks a try. What do I do? Is it time to play Nancy Drew and start looking around for a hidden crawl space?

That’s it, isn’t it – it’s not like I have anything better to do. Time to get a flashlight and a couple of friends named George and Bess and an asexual boyfriend named Ned – let’s solve this mystery! YEAH!

i will also need to get a shapeless blue dress and a beige bathrobe

I need a job. It’s been a week, and I’m already trying to solve mysteries.

Look! I copywrut! :D

The guys from Nerd Merit Badges asked if I’d take a stab at writing the copy for their latest badge, to which I squee’d and said HELL YES. I love Nerd Merit Badges *and* writing words, so it seemed like a good time to me – and it was! I wrote copy! I am a Mad Men! Let’s go drinking martinis in the 60s!

More words coming shortly, including the return of a mysterious figure from the past. Spooky!

Logically, I KNOW it’s foolish to pay $2 for 113ml of ice cream when $6 will get me 414ml, but I can’t help it. Single-sized servings of fancy ass ice cream have pretty much become my raison d’etre – they’re perfect. Love ’em, even if it means I pay a ridiculous premium for a cute little cup of just enough ice cream to soothe the savage beast. After all, I’m an upwardly mobile young professional – I can totally afford to splurge on tiny gourmet items!

Oh, wait.

Shit.

Do you ever wish that you could take your outward common sense and apply it to yourself? If I could convince myself to take my own advice, I’d be so much happier. For example, I spent most of yesterday freaking out because I don’t have a new job yet.

I’ve been unemployed for three days and 4 hours. I haven’t even finished updating my resume yet, let alone applied for any jobs. Why am I beating myself up for being a failure? Oh, right, because I’m a complete fucking idiot – but even knowing that I’m being beyond ridiculous isn’t helping at all, and I’m panicking because I’m a shiftless bum. Everyone tells me I’ll have no problem not only finding a new job but finding something AWESOME given my mad, mad skills (portfolio coming soon!), but the confidence that others have in me, while very appreciated, isn’t quelling my fears of government cheese and daily glazed hams OR my uncertainty in myself. I mean, deep down I’m overly certain of my abilities – I built a goddamn intranet – but that doesn’t mean a very large part of me isn’t freaking the fuck out. What if I can’t find a new job? What if no one needs anything documented in a dazzling forthright manner? What if no one appreciates technical manuals written as a Choose Your Own Adventure book? What if I totally suck and people have just been coddling me all along?

What if?

These are all totally normal feelings to have on your fourth full day of being a bum, right?

i'm still really proud of this thing.

I woke up this morning with a migraine, but had to power through it because I had Important Things to do. As I waited for the caffeine and drugs to kick in, I found myself doing Lamaze – at least, my perception of how to do Lamaze, which is entirely based on what I’ve seen on TV. I exhaled in short bursts, made some train noises, had a panicked blundering husband in the background trying to fluff my pillows and pack a suitcase at the same time, and swore a lot. None of this really seemed to help, and I gave some serious thought about boiling a pot of water just in case (and probably would have, if I didn’t need to leave the house). Why I thought these things would ease my headache is a mystery to me, but once I made the Lamaze connection I just sort of went with it. I mean, it couldn’t HURT, and as long as I concentrated on breathing funny I didn’t have the wherewithal to focus on just how badly my head was throbbing. It was a good system, and now I feel confident that I could totally have a baby if I needed to. Success!

My head does hurt a lot less, though. The drugs finally kicked in and getting out of the house worked wonders. Also, I have Nutter Butters. As far as Wednesdays go, this is the best one I’ve had in months.

I’m ambitious, but I also know when I’m licked and should just lay low for a while. That’s why my goal for this week was “be better than last week” – sounds pretty simple, right? Last week was one of the worst weeks of my life; there’s no way this week could be anywhere near as bad!

Well, yesterday I lost my job and today I dropped one of my favourite mugs on the kitchen floor where it shattered into a thousand dangerous little pieces. At 9:36 on Tuesday morning, we’re off to an excellent start for the week. I can’t wait to see what’s next!

On account of my having eaten approximately three normal meals in the last two weeks, we – and my ass – are all going to ignore the fact that I ate a LOT of cheesecake yesterday. A lot. Like, I was up at 2am eating cheesecake. It was messy. Today I am going to try to eat something green.

Do they make green cheesecake?

Okay, onto the good stuff, in bullet point format so you can see that I am serious:

• Officially, I was laid off due to restructuring – my position was eliminated
• I am not angry at my boss about this – I have a feeling the decision was not hers, and I think it was rough on her to let me go (that could be my ego talking; everyone wants to be missed)
• If I’m going to do anything, it’s going to be backwards and convoluted – I was actually part of the initial round of layoffs on November 1st, but they kept me a while longer to see what would happen like a science experiment gone horribly wrong
• Yes, I received severance – in fact, I received far more than I had any right to expect
• There will be no talk of lawsuits – yes, I raise an eyebrow in serious need of grooming at the whole “let’s fire her while she’s having serious mental issues and two weeks before Christmas to boot” thing (which I can only assume was followed by maniacal hand rubbing and an evil laugh), but maybe I’ll just get a crutch and an ascot and call myself Tiny Kim
• My life insurance and long term disability benefits were terminated yesterday, BUT my health and dental were extended to the end of January – including my entire and not insignificant health and spending allotment for 2012, which will come in very handy when I talk to my therapist about all of this
• I should probably go to the dentist and refill my prescriptions while I’m at it
• Yes, this all sucks – but it could have been so much worse; they could have easily Dooced my ass but instead took the happy ending, for which I am grateful
• I could have been Dooced because someone who was not a Fan of Kimli was stalking my blog regularly and tattling on me for “putting the company in the public eye” – hey, those of you who don’t know me personally! Pop quiz! Where did I work? You don’t know, do you? Probably because I NEVER MENTIONED IT ON MY BLOG! Enjoy your moral superiority, mysterious tattler, because it is ILL GOTTEN!
• I’m going to use some of my severance to splurge a little and buy a new Dustbuster – yeah! I’m living the life!
• Thank you all for your tweets and DMs and emails – you guys made yesterday a lot less painful, and I appreciate you all
• Uh .. how do you do a resume?

So, the new chapter begins today. This week I plan to update my resume, put together a portfolio, and buy some damn groceries. After that .. well, it’s the holiday season, but I’m still looking. And thinking about freelancing. Anyone need any documentation done? I’m good at words and stuff.

bad news is easier to deliver in poster form

I’d like to claim that I’m really self aware and totally attuned to the emotions in the ether so I was prepared for this, but honestly, I just had a brilliantly timed tantrum.

On Friday, I stripped my desk at work and packed up all my toys. I wasn’t told to do it; it was a knee-jerk reaction to being told I don’t fit in. You want a sterile workplace? Okay, I’ll GIVE you sterile. The rainbow arch came down, all my prints, the 37 different Hello Kitty things – all gone. I packed everything into bags and boxes, and set it aside.

On Sunday, after the Great Bieber Hunt of 2011, we went to my office to drop off everything we had bought. We also picked up all my stuff, just in case.

This morning at work, I packed up the rest of it. Better safe than sorry, right?

I was one folder of old packing slips away from removing every trace of my existence when I was called in to talk to my boss. There was another lady there; a stranger. I knew what it meant.

I lost my job today.

My toys are safe, though.

So there.

More words will come later (after the cheque has cleared). Right now, I need to cry. So I’m going to go do that, and maybe eat some of the cheesecake in my fridge.

Justin Bieber, you are an elusive creature.

I’ll be the first to admit that I am not up on what six-year-old girls find cool, but I do my best to fulfill wishes when they are presented to me. The 6 year old in our adopted family asked for “Justin Bieber anything”, so I spent much of my weekend thinking more about the Biebz than I ever have or hope to again.

I had sort of hoped the task would be easy, as his Biebness is all over the damn place these days. However, since everything in my life right now is an arduous task of insurmountable odds, actually FINDING Bieber stuff was close to impossible. Is Bieber passé now? Is he no longer the cool thing for girls to sigh over? I dragged Ed to two of the most hellacious places to be on a Sunday afternoon two weeks before Christmas – SuperStore and Walmart – and was extremely hard pressed to find ANYTHING with Justin’s floppy lesbian grin staring out at me in a Canadian approximation of swagger. Seriously, the only non-CD item I could find was a pinata. While the thought of giving someone a Justin Bieber pinata is a hilarious one, it’s not something I’d want to give a little girl for Christmas – so I bought what I could: the Christmas CD, a copy of the movie, some other “All About Justin!” DVD, and some stickers. Then, to ease my suffering, I decided the girl also likes princesses. That made things a little easier.

The very request for Bieber stuff is kind of weird – are 6-year-olds really that up on pubescent teen idols? I tried to remember what I was into when I was 6, but everything before 1982 is a blur. I even looked up popular toys from the era, but I don’t remember ever owning any of them so that was no help. This is where I need you, internet – if you have girl who’s 6, what was on her wish list this year? And what about you – what did YOU want when you were six? I am no good at children.

kids like masks, right?

My therapist’s office is having a sale for the holiday season, and they have signs up in all the therapy rooms advertising the special.

The signs say:

“Happy” Holidays from Crazy People Counselling!

That? Is hilarious.

All I want for Christmas is for that to be totally intentional.

.. and a Nintendo 3DS with Mario Kart 7 and Super Mario Land 3D.

HAH!

There is no worse feeling than disappointing someone you genuinely respect. I recommend avoiding it at all costs.

I gave serious thought to only communicating via Depeche Mode songs from here on in, but I ultimately decided against it. I gave serious thought to a lot of things last night, like never leaving the bed again or crawling inside the pizza to sleep or taking up animal husbandry. I was pretty sold on the last one, until I found out animal husbandry is not about marrying sheep to cats or snakes to horses – seriously, why is it called that if it has nothing to do with confetti and tiny tuxedos? It’s misleading, and just rude.

Mostly, though, I spent yesterday crying. It’s an embarrassing tendency I have; getting overly emotional the instant a Serious Conversation happens at me – and yesterday was the End Boss of Serious Conversations.

I could wax a lot of poetry about the why and the how, but the end result was a Serious Conversation with my boss in which she delivered a year’s worth of bad news in one painful meeting.  I won’t be getting a raise or promotion because I don’t deserve one; I seriously offended her with my email expressing my frustrations; when asked for feedback some of my customers claim I’ve said “that’s not my job, but I’ll help you anyway”; I joke inappropriately in the office; I’m too flippant; there’s no future for me in this company .. and I don’t fit in.

Incidentally, if you’d like to know how to completely break me in two, tell me or make it clear to me that I don’t fit in.

I have reverse abandonment issues and I find it excruciatingly difficult to make friends, because I don’t fit in. Anywhere. I’ve never fit in at any of my jobs, or at school, or in social groups. There’s something wrong with me – people shy away from me; keep me at a distance. The few times in my life I’ve had best friends have all ended badly – I didn’t fit in with their lives any more, and they pushed me away. It happened 20 years ago, 8 years ago, and 11 months ago, and it broke me each time. Oh, people tolerate me okay – I have casual friendships at work, but they never go beyond that. I’m too weird, too off-putting, too smelly, too wrong to be anything other than the weirdo in the corner. Too loud, too bright, too much, too unusual. I thought I had finally found a place where I could be myself and be accepted for everything I have to offer, but once again I don’t fit in and the tolerance I thought people had for me is gone, if it ever was there at all.

In all the jobs I’ve had, I’ve always been the outsider. People put up with my quirks because my work is good, but sooner or later someone simply gets too uncomfortable with me and I get pushed out. Sometimes it’s subtle: the workplace becomes increasingly weird and hostile until I’m gasping for air. Most of the time, I’m let go for other reasons: the only person downsized, not given any work, told to go work from home and mysteriously dropped from the website. Nothing has happened here yet – I still have a job – but I’ve been flat out told that due to all the changes in the last few months, I no longer fit in and I’d really be better off somewhere else.

Why does this keep happening?

Why does it always hit me out of nowhere?

Why aren’t I used to it by now?

Why do I keep trying to connect with people, only to have it blow up in my face?

What’s wrong with me?