Tuesday, June 4, 2002. Entry #157

As the sexy and intelligent people on the notify list all know already, I finally got a full-time contract.

It's only taken six months, but it finally happened. One afternoon Frank walked past my desk and ever so subtly slipped a folded piece of paper to me. It was my contact offer, which I surreptitiously signed and returned to his office, disguised amongst a pile of print-offs and draft articles.

Just trying to keep in the spirit of things. Not that it mattered. I've since learned my contract was the worst keep secret in the place.

The bad news is slight. I'll be making a small amount less than before (my hourly rate was originally calculated based on a 37.5 hour week, despite the fact I actually worked 40 a week. My new salary is still based on that original 37.5-hour estimate).

The good news far overweighs the bad.

I've got full health, dental and vision coverage. I will be eligible for the company RRSP plan in six months. I will be eligible for the employee share purchase program in a year. I get two weeks vacation and paid sick time. I've got life insurance and disability insurance. I get discounts on our merchandise.

And I'm now truly a part of the company.

Don't underestimate the value of that. Becoming part of the team means that I am accepted. I am not a 'temporary employee' or an 'outside contractor'. I am an employee. Part of the team, one of the guys, on the inside.

It changes little in my average workday. There is no little plaque by my desk marking me an Official Employee, there is no special door I now use to give executive access to the cafeteria, no special washroom with fountains and freshly laundered towels, or exclusive parking stalls with conveyer belts to my desk.

But the psychological factors are so important. When I took the career training courses that were part of my severance package with the newspaper, I learned that I wanted to work somewhere creative, with teams of people working together, with high standards, and a large variety of different tasks.

And somewhere that was stable, where I could feel secure.

For the last six months, I had the former. Now I have it all.

It's a good thing about the full dental. Now that we're doubly covered, we won't have to pay a cent for all the dental hardships we will have to endure over the next six months.

I got a permanent filling on the remains of my root canal today. Despite the broken chunk, the dentist was able to fill the gap with gunk and seal it up in preparation for the inevitable crown.

(As it is a rear molar, he is recommending a gold crown as opposed to a white ceramic one. It's more durable, easier to make, and should generally do the job better. No one should see it at all unless I point it out. Which I will, because there's a certain coolness to having a gold tooth.)

He identified four more cavities to be filled, as well as several 'problem areas' that need examining on an X-ray to determine the exact damage. On Friday I'm having an hour-and-a-half cleaning session to get rid of the five years of gunk embedded into every cranny.

Yeesh.

I'm really happy about being able to take sick days. All the considerate germs who have been holding off for the last six months are all now encroaching on my immune system. I feel soreness between my throat and my sinuses, which definitely indicates a bout of something unpleasant sometime soon.

Joy.

I have so much more to tell you. The last week has been stupid-crazy, with the launch of our new World Cup stuff, plus lots of gaming, meetings, and general nuttiness. We saw the first half of 'Sum of All Fears' Sunday night before the fire alarm went off, sending us all home. Lisa's new manager is now in place, with the requisite gnashing of teeth.

But I'm still feeling grubby, and there's more work to do before I can go home to bed.

More soon!

On The Mole: Last week's premiere was fun, with the producers really, REALLY screwing with the players' minds. They showed them a crane holding a net full of the players' bags over a bonfire, and said all their stuff would be burnt up if they got all four questions wrong. Of course they totally failed, and everything went up in smoke. They trotted out the REAL undamaged bags the next day, but the looks of horror and anger on the faces of the players were completely genuine. Hee hee!

One Year Ago Today: I was still on hiatus, but in 780 BC, the first total solar eclipse was reliably recorded by Chinese.

Mom Rating: 5 out of 5. Do I even have to explain?

Previous: Behind Closed Doors

Next: Half Clean

Take me home, big fella