I hate my job

I hate my job. I always hate my job. I just can't figure out if I hate my job(s) because I don't like working, or because I never have a job I like.
When I worked for a law firm, my days were bearable. I had lots of friends to work or take a break with. The best part was the fact that almost all my time was organized and overseen by me. I could just stop and think if I needed to.
Currently, I have what could be the worst possible job in the universe for me. It is saved from that title for the feeble reason that my job doesn't involve working with a lot of numbers. If it did, it would be curtains for me. My boss is technologically inoperable, yet he insists on using this technology all the time. I should say, he insists on me using the technology and printing him 14 copies before he gives it his stamp of approval, but oh wait... he still wants to make corrections regardless of the fact that a job now has to be redone 300 times, by someone who isn't him. That could easily lead me to my well-practiced (and, I'm told, insensitive) rant about older workers who are total unwilling to adapt to change/new fangled computers, but I'll save that for another post.
About a year ago, I took a really detailed aptitude test at this research based institution in Dallas. I spent a day and a half taking skills tests and having a discussion session with one of the proctors. After testing for everything from hand dexterity to memory for rhythm, I was given my results in another session. They had asked me to describe my current job. It was with a local hospital system and the only job I could get as a member of the first wave of post-9/11 college graduates. It involved numbers and a gossipy, passive-aggresive boss, so it was pure evil. The first thing the consultant told me was that I was not only in the wrong job, I was in the entirely wrong profession and I needed to get out ASAP. Duh. Like I chose clerical work as a profession anyway. That was reason enough to "get out ASAP."
In short, I was told that I was a part of a grouping called objective/musical personalities. My highest scoring apptituides were, Tonal Memory (the ability to quickly memorize tunes), Ideaphoria (the ability to "brainstorm" and write very quickly), Memory for Design (just like it sounds). They suggested careers in editing, writing, teaching and even sales. What I realize now is that my new job was tantamount to a major regression in my career satisfaction. I suppose I need to do something about then, huh?

A long time gone

So it’s been a really long time since I last posted. I haven’t been that busy or anything, I just forgot my EBlogger password. You thought there would be an interesting story upon my return didn’t you? Sorry to disappoint.
Well, in case you hadn’t noticed, I’m kind of a pessimist. I hate that about myself. :insert irony here: Anyway, lately I’ve become kind of a hypochondriac with fun panic attacks. It’s not as fun as it sounds, trust me. Actually, I saw the Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy last week and every time I read something I write I can hear Alan Rickman’s voice reading it in a very Marvin the Paranoid Android kind of tone. God help me.
To sum up, the past two years of my life have been the most difficult years I’ve ever known. Up until then, I thought of myself as a kind of lucky freak who, with the exception of one nasty breakup, never lost anyone close to me. During these past two years, fate has had it’s ironic payback—I lost my uncle and mentor in 2003, my grandmother in 2004, my sister in 2004 (in a different sort of way) and a twin pregnancy at 11 weeks. Something about loss and sadness permanently changes you. I’ve started becoming very aware of the effects of desire or dreams and how they are dangerous as they can lead directly to almost all negative emotions—forcing you to just live in them day after day. Does anyone else hear the theme to Star Wars?
Why am I telling you all this? If I’m going to host a blog and talk about anything in my life, it is utterly pointless if I don’t paint the background first. I’m a funny person who loves to wear wigs to the doughnut shop at 3 a.m., but that part of me is involved in a daily battle to win my sanity from the sadness that threatens to overtake me. Okay, well that’s a lot of information you probably didn’t need.
I guess what I’m trying to say is that, I change. More importantly, I’m counting on changing again, back into the person I enjoy being—the one who doesn’t take life too seriously. Don’t be surprised if suddenly you can’t hear Marvin the Android’s voice anymore when you read my posts. I’m anticipating hearing my own again soon.

I am a kept woman, and I'm diggin' it!

I am unemployed… and I’m thrilled about it. No, it wasn’t voluntary, and no, I wasn’t fired. I was the product, nay… the victim of corporate downsizing; of first quarter budget cuts; of litigation lock; of a post-9/11 America. I feel so American right now—like maybe I should go down to the local pub… I mean bar and have a few pints… I mean beers to drown out the reality of my lost dignity. Nah. Instead I’ll just …WOOHOO, I got laid off! I finally get some time off! What shall I do with my stolen time? The possibilities are endless and so is my bank balance! Okay, I’m just wishing with that last comment. Either way, I’m a free woman to do as I please; go where I want to go for as long as I want to be there! Granted, I share living expenses with this guy in exchange for being a devoted, adoring wife… blahbity bloo, so I’m not overly concerned with my new status.
Of course, in my two days of unemployment, I have slept-in a grand total of one hour, worn my pajamas for an extra 4 hours, cleaned my house compulsively, produced one print ad and attended one job interview. I’m thinking I should take my unemployment a little more seriously. I’m not going to get any relaxed lazing about in while I’m rushing to job interviews and tidying the house! My word, the total lack of lethargy is shocking! I think… ahhhhh… I think I’m actually doing more work that I was before the big lay off!

Resolution: Will sleep until at least 9:00am everyday until returning to working life; will decrease overall amount of scrubbing and/or organizing in house by 50%; lastly, will say “no” to job offers that do not meet my need for satisfaction and purpose.

The Laugh

Shifty thoughts from a shifty person

I received an email from my Godmother today. Yes, I have a Godmother! Anyway, it was one of those encouraging, slide show emails. All the pictures were scenes from Pixar movies or short films and next to each one was a "thoughtful phrase." Insert rolled eyes here. Well, one phrase kind of stuck with me—partly because I wrote it down on a post-it and stuck it to my monitor in front of me.
Dream what you want to dream;
Go where you want to go;
Be what you want to be;
Because you have only one life
And one chance to do all the things
You want to do.
Besides the pseudo-stanza format and simple idea, I quickly realized that this "thoughtful phrase" kind of summed up what I'd been trying to explain to my friends and family about how I feel right now. It has recently occurred to me that dreams can be very silly things on which to spend your energy, due to the fact that they can be so easily crushed. Maybe I'm immature. Maybe I've suffered one too many losses in the past two years. Either way, I suddenly feel the intense need to live in the Now. I don't mean this in a "life is short, stop and smell the roses kind of way," but in more of a defeatist, give up and just get drunk sort of way. Hey, I don't want to be anyone's role model. If you're looking for wisdom in the face of painful circumstances, you've come to the wrong place.


* I hereby reserve the right to edit or disown any of my statements about life, as I find I have almost no knowledge on the subject and plan on simply wading through the process until I eventually kick it.

Things confused people say a.k.a. I am a pedantic ass

Hi to all. I can't understand why anyone would read these, but thanks anyway Mom.
Well, I'm a very uninteresting person with a prolific flow of tired thoughts, many of which have already been addressed more articulately by better writers throughout the ages. As a preface, allow me to state for the record, that I don't claim (nor would I want) to be a writing or grammar expert. I find people who flaunt their mountainous knowledge of grammar were really ugly in High School, and have no other way to assert themselves in this miserable world. So, keep on studying those grammar guides guys--they'll get you far in life.
While I'm setting the tone here, let me say that I don't intend to be entertaining or necessarily thought provoking. If I am, it is merely by coincidence and don't assume too much about me. I'm actually a very shallow person and most of my deeper thoughts are brought on by an especially effecting piece of music or some type of hallucinogenic. Okay, I'm lying--I'm overly contemplative and it makes me sick. Damn.
Enough self deprecation let the frivolous ramblings begin!