Sunday, June 23, 2002

Whew. What a weekend. I am tired, tired, tired. Had a women's hockey clinic this weekend, 8 hours of ice time. A fuller accounting of it can be found in my hockey journal. I'm so zonked--most of it is dehydration--but also pretty pleased with myself. I'm a little less worried about camp right now. I know it's still going to be grueling, but I'm just trying to focus on how I've improved since last summer instead of making lists of all the things I still can't do adequately.

I love the smell of fresh ice, I love the feel of a fresh cut under my skates ("Chicks dig the good ice"). I had forgotten what it felt like to drink sweat and soap (defogs my recspecs) for four hours at a time.

In off-ice news, I finally told my boss this afternoon that I'm quitting. She took it better than I expected, and managed to sound happy for me. The worst part about my leaving isn't that I'm irreplacable, rather that there is a hiring freeze, so they might not get the opportunity to replace me. I feel guilty about that, but not guilty enough to stay. I'm glad to be able to talk about my departure openly now.

Our conversation strayed to other motivations for my leaving, and she more or less confirmed what I thought about Problem Co-Worker A. I know this co-worker is pretty much just insane, but she does seem more insane toward me than anyone else. And other people have mentioned that she has a really big problem with how I dress (ie., like a dyke), and I've just been getting these signals... Anyway, my boss agreed without actually committing herself to it that I wasn't mis-reading the situation, that Problem Co-Worker A does have a problem with just because I'm gay. So, that sucks, and makes me feel not so guilty about leaving.

God, my hands hurt. Too much stickhandling.

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