My bad morning continued when I chose from Google Maps a breakfast joint called Joe’s Garage that as it turned out couldn’t serve me because their order system was on the blink.. they couldn’t even open the till for cash. They’d already given away $100 in meals and stopped seating people by the time I arrived. And I’d neglected to notice that both of my two back-up options are closed Mondays and Tuesdays.

I used my phone to look up more options (international data is so key!) and walked to Cuba Street, a well-known eating and shopping thoroughfare with a stretch of pedestrian-only blocks. I very much enjoyed the smoked mackerel hash at Floriditas, but their service staff were a bit standoffish. Or maybe it was just my mood.

From there, it was a quick and easy walk to the Te Papa museum of New Zealand history and Maori culture. It was a pretty day, and honestly I’m not a museum person, but the remainder of my planned activities were outdoors and I’d read this museum is a must-do (and free!).

Each floor houses one main exhibit.

On the 2nd is a long and detailed retrospective of the New Zealand army’s stand at Gallipoli during WWI. I am generally not interested in war, but this exhibit included several larger-than-life and quite lifelike sculptures, mostly soldiers in the heat of battle but also a crying nurse, and each one was quite affecting.

On the 3rd floor is a history of the land, flora and fauna, and how it changed with the arrival of settlers, first Maori tribes and later Europeans (lots of clear-cutting). Sadly, the natural history wing of the floor was closed.

The 4th floor examines Maori culture through a deep look at one iwi, or tribe, which rotates every two years; right now, it’s Rongowhakaata. I watched a 4-minute video on the haka two or three times and took off my shoes to sit in a recreation of a wharenui, or meeting house. No photos were allowed in this exhibit but I was gladly able to capture a larger, colorful, elaborate wharenui in a separate room. I was grateful to have heard a Maori guide explain the significance of the structure and its parts back in Whakarewarewa village.

The 5th floor is art, and I completely skipped it. The 6th is a viewing terrace overlooking the harbour.

It was late afternoon and I wanted to get up to Mt. Victoria for sunset. I confirmed with an info desk that drivers can make change aboard the city bus. This was the case in Rotorua and also in Barcelona last year. Travelers to the U.S. must be surprised/annoyed that they need exact fare to ride our buses.

I’d looked up the route earlier and walked just a couple blocks from the museum to the bus stop, which also happened to be around the corner from my listing. Got downtown Welly all worked out.

The ride up steep hills afforded views of its own and made me thankful I’d decided against walking/hiking. I arrived at the lookout at 4:30, with sunset just after 5:00. The golden light made for pretty photos! I was done after 10-15 minutes. It was chilly and I was tired, but I decided to stay to see the sun dip behind the hills.

That meant I needed to hustle a little down the hill back to town as I did not want to still be there as dusk settled. I’d assumed incorrectly the walkway down was a paved path. The dirt trail was mostly flat but was a bit rocky and steep in parts.

I made it almost all the way down before I slipped and ate shit. First fell on my ass, then my side as I rolled and kept rolling until I was face down in a bush. I am so thankful I didn’t poke one of my eyes on a twig branch or something (especially the right one as my left one doesn’t work so I’d have been blinded). My immediate concern was that I’d twisted up my back.

I was so freaked out at the possibility, and a little in shock because it all happened so fast, that I went straight to denial. What had just happened did not just happen. My hands were not dirty or burning from trying to brace myself as I slid. Brushed my jeans off.. there, no trace. Carry on. My back would be fine the next day. Only my new Queen Bee messenger bag carries a bit of a scar.

I regrouped at the listing and then walked back toward the park to a tapas spot called Basque that I’d passed on the way home. Sangría and caprese and patatas bravas on a rooftop patio. Joy!

I had kind of a shitty morning. Bad days happen during regular life, but it was a bit of a surprise to be in a foul mood while on vacation, even a long one.

During my last week of work, I interviewed for a new project-based role on my team. We first learned of the position in December and couldn’t have imagined it would take until April to publish and open for applications. In fact, getting close to my leave, I’d already figured I wasn’t going to be able to apply because there wasn’t time to interview after the posting closed.

Well, the posting went up at the end of my penultimate week, and my manager’s manager let the team know that interviews would be conducted concurrently with the opening. Without anyone saying so, I knew this was so I could apply.

I had updated my resume in January for a different application, but it still needed customizing for this one and I needed to write a new cover letter from scratch. My mind and spare time were consumed with trip prep, and fitting in a job application was stressful and inconvenient, given that I’d let go of the idea that I’d have the chance. Still, I wanted the promotion and I was ready to take on the new challenge of different work.

I was scheduled for 3 interviews on my last day of work. The first one was at 8:00, and I’m not usually up until 9:30. I hadn’t slept enough; I’d stayed up too late researching or booking something or another. Surprisingly, the first interview went very well. I had two mid-afternoon, the first of which went pretty OK and the last could have gone a lot better. Silver lining: that one was with my lead, who best knows the quality of my work.

Despite the entire point of a sabbatical being a rest from work, I was told I’d need to be in touch to accept the role if offered. Rather than checking email, I asked my lead to text me on WhatsApp. I hadn’t heard anything, so I had a look at work email this morning.

To confess, I had just caught up on work email (minimal attention paid, mostly deleting things) two days ago. The notice had come in right around that time. I must have just missed it, which was good because it would have ruined my wine tasting day. Obviously, from the title and opening lines of this post, I didn’t get it.

There were actually two openings of the same role and three of us on the team applying. One of my best friends, Shelby, has been runner-up for everything she has applied for in the last two years, despite being highly qualified each time. She feared the same would happen here, and no matter how hard she brought it, I would be selected by seniority. I am ecstatic for her that she finally gets an opportunity to put her skills to work.

Myself, I feel completely unmoored. This sabbatical is a dividing line between the work I’d been doing for 3-1/2 years, without the position ever existing on paper, and whatever comes next, and I was hoping I would know what that is upon my return. I feel the rejection that always comes with not getting a role applied for, with the bonus anxiety of not having any idea where I fit on my team anymore.

This won’t ruin the rest of my trip. I know it will pass if I allow it to move through me. Sure sucks today, though.