20190301.0430

A new month has started, and so, if the pattern I've been following for a while now is to continue, it is time to move to something else once again. I'll have more hymns against the Stupid God to write in days to come, I am certain, but I do not have more to do at the moment--not because there are not works that can be imagined to proceed from such a being, but because I am exhausted on that task. I can only give out so much of such before I am emptied of it. But as I have poured out what I have from one cistern, another has filled; the one is replenished by rain that has not fallen abundantly, while the other fills from a well that has yet much to offer.

To draw from that cistern, then: I've made no secret of working in the front office of an outpatient substance abuse treatment facility this past year and a half, and I have been fortunate enough to rise quickly in the organization. For my first year, I was an administrative assistant--a glorified secretary, such work being among the few things my resume and demonstrable skillset seemed to suit me to do after years as a scholar in the academic humanities. (I flatter myself that I communicate reasonably well; I point to facts when I note my typing and ten-keying speeds, as well as my familiarity with a variety of software programs.) After that year, though, I began training to take over as the executive director of the agency, claiming a title to do so and working in the time since to familiarize myself not only with the details of the organization, but also the regulatory environments in which the organization has to operate. (I flatter myself that I am doing reasonably well in the task.)
Before this year ends, I will assume the executive directorship. The current occupant of the position is retiring at the end of the agency's fiscal year, and I will be stepping into the position. It will mark a strange shift for me; I am accustomed to being in positions to contribute to organizations with relatively little supervision (though that "relatively little" has not always been the case; not all of my employers have trusted me to do my job, and I imagine some of them feel justified in that mistrust), not to being the leader and the one on whom responsibility ultimately falls. There are days I do not feel ready for the task, that I do not think I have the insight and judgment to do the job well to which I am being assigned and to which I have agreed. Even on such days, though, I recall the work to get a job, and it is not a kind recollection; I would rather have the work I am facing and for which I may not be ready than to have no work. I am decidedly not ready to go back to that situation, even if it has been good for my writing in the past.