Operation Snow Balls: Day 1
Aug. 11th, 2011 07:09 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
astillarHere I am, in the last place on Earth I wanted to be. When I received a text message two weeks ago requesting that I return to Canada, I abhorred the idea. There was no way in hell I’d go back there; the 6 months I’d spent up there last year was the most miserable time of my career. There was no way they could sweet-talk or trick me into going and I told them that I wasn’t interested. I’d never said ‘no’ to an assignment before, but I felt justified in this instance.
My bosses went away and found someone else to take my place. I was glad to have avoided the assignment. I’d rather quit my job than go back to Canada. That threat did spur me to finally start my career search though. I met with a career counselor as soon as I got back to Austin.
A week later they called again. My replacement had flaked out and they were more insistent in their request. Last week I’d been working in Houston, this week in Baton Rouge Louisiana. I was having to go farther and farther from our home office to stay busy. There simply wasn’t enough work at home. Over the preceding week I’d thought more about the “unemployment before Canada” ultimatum. I simply couldn’t quit my job without some plan. I don’t have the savings to do that. So I grudgingly agreed to go to Canada, on the conditions that I was only agreeing to two rotations and my time off would accommodate Dragon*Con.
.
.
.
As quickly as my bosses were rushing me up to Canada, I was confident (hoping) that something would throw a wrench into the works and send me back home. Maybe my permit letter wouldn’t be ready in time. Maybe customs would deny my work visa. Maybe the drill rig would break down. So many things could happen that would delay or negate my trip.
Against all expectations and experience, everything came together and I was delivered to Wapasu lodge last night. That’s when my denial crumbled and reality started to sink in. Monday morning I’d been sleeping in bed with my great girlfriend in Dallas. I spent all of Monday in Austin, caught in a whirlwind of preparations that lasted until early Tuesday morning. I woke up in the comfort of my own bed, took a long last look at my house as I boarded the airport shuttle and departed at 5:14 am. I was now no longer at home and I wouldn’t see it again for at least three weeks.
With each step of the trip, my mood grew heavier and harder. Flight to Houston, flight to Salt Lake City, flight to Calgary, prop plane to Edmonton, charter plane to Albian, and a long bus ride down a logging road to my final destination, Wapasu Lodge. As always, Calgary is the tipping point of my mood. It’s the point of no return. Up until that point, I’m still in a modern, urban environment. There are ATMs, paved roads, hotels, grocery stores, restaurants, etc. If I were delayed here, I’d be comfortable. And if I chose to, I could still turn around and leave, fly back to Austin. But once I enter that charter terminal, that’s all gone. There are no more stores or groceries. The only food I’ll eat for the next three weeks comes from the camp cafeteria. The nearest town is two hours away which is a moot point since I have no transportation. We’re bussed from the lodge to the plant site and back. There may be 5000 people at this camp, but I’m not inclined to fraternize. Most of the guys here are bigger than me and that activates my old nerd defenses. Those who are bigger with muscle wear Affliction or UFC shirts. Those bigger with beer bellies wear camouflage, Harley Davidson, or old metal bands. Obviously, this isn’t my ‘crowd’.
As I settled into my room last night, reality sank in. I will be stuck here for the next three weeks. I can only leave by the whim of my boss. Although they’ve agreed to my scheduling request, the’ve been known to extend our stays without our input.
I’m not happy to be here. I have no real choice. Even though I was miserable (maybe even depressed) during my stay last year, I believe I’ll be able to endure this assignment without getting so down. I’ve set a limit on how long I’m willing to be here and my bosses know it. My time off WILL accommodate Dragon*Con. I’ll hitch-hike back to Fort McMurray if that’s what it takes to get out of here. If those two conditions are met, I can tolerate this job.
This is the last favor that I do for my company. After this, I’m done.
My bosses went away and found someone else to take my place. I was glad to have avoided the assignment. I’d rather quit my job than go back to Canada. That threat did spur me to finally start my career search though. I met with a career counselor as soon as I got back to Austin.
A week later they called again. My replacement had flaked out and they were more insistent in their request. Last week I’d been working in Houston, this week in Baton Rouge Louisiana. I was having to go farther and farther from our home office to stay busy. There simply wasn’t enough work at home. Over the preceding week I’d thought more about the “unemployment before Canada” ultimatum. I simply couldn’t quit my job without some plan. I don’t have the savings to do that. So I grudgingly agreed to go to Canada, on the conditions that I was only agreeing to two rotations and my time off would accommodate Dragon*Con.
.
.
.
As quickly as my bosses were rushing me up to Canada, I was confident (hoping) that something would throw a wrench into the works and send me back home. Maybe my permit letter wouldn’t be ready in time. Maybe customs would deny my work visa. Maybe the drill rig would break down. So many things could happen that would delay or negate my trip.
Against all expectations and experience, everything came together and I was delivered to Wapasu lodge last night. That’s when my denial crumbled and reality started to sink in. Monday morning I’d been sleeping in bed with my great girlfriend in Dallas. I spent all of Monday in Austin, caught in a whirlwind of preparations that lasted until early Tuesday morning. I woke up in the comfort of my own bed, took a long last look at my house as I boarded the airport shuttle and departed at 5:14 am. I was now no longer at home and I wouldn’t see it again for at least three weeks.
With each step of the trip, my mood grew heavier and harder. Flight to Houston, flight to Salt Lake City, flight to Calgary, prop plane to Edmonton, charter plane to Albian, and a long bus ride down a logging road to my final destination, Wapasu Lodge. As always, Calgary is the tipping point of my mood. It’s the point of no return. Up until that point, I’m still in a modern, urban environment. There are ATMs, paved roads, hotels, grocery stores, restaurants, etc. If I were delayed here, I’d be comfortable. And if I chose to, I could still turn around and leave, fly back to Austin. But once I enter that charter terminal, that’s all gone. There are no more stores or groceries. The only food I’ll eat for the next three weeks comes from the camp cafeteria. The nearest town is two hours away which is a moot point since I have no transportation. We’re bussed from the lodge to the plant site and back. There may be 5000 people at this camp, but I’m not inclined to fraternize. Most of the guys here are bigger than me and that activates my old nerd defenses. Those who are bigger with muscle wear Affliction or UFC shirts. Those bigger with beer bellies wear camouflage, Harley Davidson, or old metal bands. Obviously, this isn’t my ‘crowd’.
As I settled into my room last night, reality sank in. I will be stuck here for the next three weeks. I can only leave by the whim of my boss. Although they’ve agreed to my scheduling request, the’ve been known to extend our stays without our input.
I’m not happy to be here. I have no real choice. Even though I was miserable (maybe even depressed) during my stay last year, I believe I’ll be able to endure this assignment without getting so down. I’ve set a limit on how long I’m willing to be here and my bosses know it. My time off WILL accommodate Dragon*Con. I’ll hitch-hike back to Fort McMurray if that’s what it takes to get out of here. If those two conditions are met, I can tolerate this job.
This is the last favor that I do for my company. After this, I’m done.
