The Drawing Board

Moments of complete apathy are the best for new creations.

~ Philip Breedveld

Who is this Philip Breedveld? I found the quote where I find all the epigraphs I use here at The Cheek, so I figured his must be a household name.

Alas, there is no philipbreedveld.com.

I searched for his books on Amazon and found nothing.

He doesn’t have a wiki.

So I tried Googling him.

Found a Photoshop Showcase featuring a possible Philip Breedveld sighting.

Also a LinkedIn profile of an architect named Philip Breedveld who lives in the Netherlands.

And then there’s this interesting possibility, a gentleman from the Philippines who, thanks to a “Master’s Course” taken through The National Board of Professional and Ethical Standards, is now able to . . .

. . . develop and use the power we all have within us–the power to BELIEVE and the power to DO! Now . . . people are turning to me looking to unlock that magic power in their minds called the subconscious. For whatever reason, stop smoking, losing weight without a diet, improving memory, or increasing their self-esteem, I am able to help them!

You know what, dear Tweaker? Whoever he is, Philip Breedveld can bite me.

This morning, when I posted this, I possessed a shred of hope. And you came through for me, posting encouraging comments and sending well-wishes. I dared to imagine, to dream the impossible.

Now? It’s all darkness and rain out my window.

I knew it was a long shot. And this evening? Confirmation. An email and a phone call and a “status quo” are what I have. There will be no offer worth considering “for the time being.” My old friend left the dugout, headed out to take a cut for me, and went down swinging. I thanked him for trying, told him I appreciated all he did on my behalf. When the time is right, perhaps he’ll step up to the plate again.

Until then, it’s back to the drawing board. Back to the dead end where feelings are blunt and emotions have lost their savor.

Tell me, Philip Breedveld, how this is a breeding ground for new creations? But you’ll have to do it for free . . .

[photo credit]

Boredom, Vice and Need

Work saves us from three great evils: boredom, vice and need.

~ Voltaire

“I’m a direct care provider for individuals with developmental disabilities.”

“I’m the operations manager for a local radio station.”

“I manufacture circuit boards for heating and air condition units.”

In the past, these replies to various interlocutors have defined me, bookmarking my place in the workforce. I’ve done many things, and I’ve done them well. Now, I sheepishly reply . . .

“I’m laid off.”

And the way things are looking, I might as well just go the extra step and define myself as unemployed. A call back may happen for those of us on the lower rungs, but how long will it last this time?

So I apply for bullshit jobs. They seem to be the only jobs out there. Jobs my tween could do with a blindfold firmly affixed upon her big, bright eyes. And I wait for the call. Not the one from the bill collectors; those are myriad and wearisome, for there is no money to send. No, I wait for the call that someone, anyone, would like to talk to me about the ________ position, wondering if I’m free on ________ for an interview.

There is a shimmer of hope, a mirage perhaps: an old friend from my radio days called several weeks ago, wondering what it would take for me to go back to work for the company. In Cincinnati. We’ve chatted a couple times, sent emails back and forth, and we’ve brainstormed a plan that just might work, making the three-hour commute and time away from my family closer to worth it. But there are hurdles that need cleared.

So I wait. Like a kid with her head pressed to the window, looking for something that may sneak around the corner. For a chance to do what I once loved doing. Something I’m realizing I might love doing again.

Those shades I used to wear, because the future was so bright? I can’t seem to find them anywhere . . .

(For an update on this post, click here.)

[photo credit]