Dammit, it's not fair! I was just starting to think about how it would be perfect if I started writing more about how much it sucks to work for the company I work for and then for my boss to find out about it and fire me. Is that too much to ask for? It isn't, is it?!
If they'd have just waited a little while longer, I would have finally lost it and started writing all kinds of wonderfully horrible rants about my colleagues and the company and they could happily have fired my sorry arse. And then people would have started reading my blog just to see how defamatory my rants really were, turning me into an instant internet celebrity and launching my full time writing career.
But no. They had to go and be all decent about giving us all our one month's notice, before quietly informing us that our office is closing down.
Fuckers!
Thursday, July 27, 2006
Monday, July 24, 2006
Small Steps
Looks like I'm still chasing my tail, after all. Yeah, I know - mercury beads and all that crap. Whatever. I'm still sitting behind my desk every day, waiting for the phone to ring and the call actually to be for someone in my office, who happens to be in the office when the caller calls.
And I'm still spending days upon days online, reading about how to be a successful writer, instead of writing and achieving success.
Today, while I'm indescribably bored with everything, I don't really care - I'm earning a salary being bored out of my mind and desperately unhappy, trapped in a dead-end job that can lead only to another, similar dead-end job. And it can therefore not be said that I contribute nothing at all. I am therefore not completely worthless.
And in the world of small steps? That's about as giant a leap as you can get.
And I'm still spending days upon days online, reading about how to be a successful writer, instead of writing and achieving success.
Today, while I'm indescribably bored with everything, I don't really care - I'm earning a salary being bored out of my mind and desperately unhappy, trapped in a dead-end job that can lead only to another, similar dead-end job. And it can therefore not be said that I contribute nothing at all. I am therefore not completely worthless.
And in the world of small steps? That's about as giant a leap as you can get.
Thursday, July 13, 2006
Mercury
I've been at my job less than a year. It took me less than two weeks to realize that this job is never going to lead anywhere else. It took me another month or two to stop dreaming about proving my worth and working my way into a better position within the company.
Some days I tell myself that it is impossible to prove my worth in a company that doesn't actually have any work for me to do. Other days, I tell myself that worth can only be proven if said worth exists to begin with. This is so typical of the kind of conversation I have with myself every day that there's hardly any point to writing about it here.
But lately there seems to be something different about my little internal chats. It's as if my various selves have decided to stop bickering amongst themselves and are being drawn into one another. Sort of like beads of mercury seeking one another out and morphing into a single glob.
And it seems that this is having a positive impact in some areas of my usually very dispersed and frustrating life. And y'know? It doesn't feel half bad.
So, since I don't really have anything else to do, maybe I'll finally start doing something. Maybe I'll scrape together the courage to send someone something I've written and see what happens. Maybe I'll start writing something every day. Maybe that tiny little voice I can still hear, the one that never says anything but "What if it's not enough..." ? Maybe that little voice is going to start fading, too.
Some days I tell myself that it is impossible to prove my worth in a company that doesn't actually have any work for me to do. Other days, I tell myself that worth can only be proven if said worth exists to begin with. This is so typical of the kind of conversation I have with myself every day that there's hardly any point to writing about it here.
But lately there seems to be something different about my little internal chats. It's as if my various selves have decided to stop bickering amongst themselves and are being drawn into one another. Sort of like beads of mercury seeking one another out and morphing into a single glob.
And it seems that this is having a positive impact in some areas of my usually very dispersed and frustrating life. And y'know? It doesn't feel half bad.
So, since I don't really have anything else to do, maybe I'll finally start doing something. Maybe I'll scrape together the courage to send someone something I've written and see what happens. Maybe I'll start writing something every day. Maybe that tiny little voice I can still hear, the one that never says anything but "What if it's not enough..." ? Maybe that little voice is going to start fading, too.
Wednesday, July 05, 2006
Megan
My Darling Daughter,
When you turned 4 the other day, I was overwhelmed, surprized, sad and relieved all at the same time. Overwhelmed because, watching you walk out the front door on your way to "school", holding your Daddy's hand, I realized that you were so obviously still just a baby, and I was overcome with the mix of maternal emotions you have only seen me exhibit on those rare occasions when I am not too caught up in my own issues to be aware of anyone else. Surprized, both by the unexpectedness of this rush of emotion and by the realization itself. Sad because, were I a better mother, I would be better able to cherish this part of your life and grant you the space and freedom to be a baby for as long as possible. Relieved because, despite all the ways in which ours is a flawed and difficult relationship, your innocence, your spirit and your capacity for unconditional love remain intact.
I want to tell you that:
1. I know how hard it must be for you to be my child. I can be selfish, unkind, distant and just plain scary sometimes.
2. I have seen the terror in your little eyes at those times you've seen me at my very, very worst, and I can only hope that when you are old enough to understand, you'll forgive me.
3. I have lost count of the number of times that it was you, that look on your face, that stopped me from stepping over the edge and plummeting into a place out of which it would be virtually impossible to return, and for this, I am in your debt.
4. You are an exceptional and a very brave human being.
5. You need never, ever be afraid of me.
6. I am indescribably proud of you
7. You are one of the most persistant, goal-driven people I have ever known. These qualities will take you a long way in life.
8. As I watch you grow and learn, I am reminded so very much of what I was like as a little girl. This often makes me smile, but it also makes me worry that you might still be reminding me of myself when you're 26...
9. I have learned the hard way that you should never be too proud to ask for help, or to say you're sorry when you've been or done wrong. Your unblemished pride won't be kind to you if you ever fall on hard times. Please take my word for it!
10. Whatever else I am, say or do, I am your mother and I love you. Everything else is secondary.
Mom.
When you turned 4 the other day, I was overwhelmed, surprized, sad and relieved all at the same time. Overwhelmed because, watching you walk out the front door on your way to "school", holding your Daddy's hand, I realized that you were so obviously still just a baby, and I was overcome with the mix of maternal emotions you have only seen me exhibit on those rare occasions when I am not too caught up in my own issues to be aware of anyone else. Surprized, both by the unexpectedness of this rush of emotion and by the realization itself. Sad because, were I a better mother, I would be better able to cherish this part of your life and grant you the space and freedom to be a baby for as long as possible. Relieved because, despite all the ways in which ours is a flawed and difficult relationship, your innocence, your spirit and your capacity for unconditional love remain intact.
I want to tell you that:
1. I know how hard it must be for you to be my child. I can be selfish, unkind, distant and just plain scary sometimes.
2. I have seen the terror in your little eyes at those times you've seen me at my very, very worst, and I can only hope that when you are old enough to understand, you'll forgive me.
3. I have lost count of the number of times that it was you, that look on your face, that stopped me from stepping over the edge and plummeting into a place out of which it would be virtually impossible to return, and for this, I am in your debt.
4. You are an exceptional and a very brave human being.
5. You need never, ever be afraid of me.
6. I am indescribably proud of you
7. You are one of the most persistant, goal-driven people I have ever known. These qualities will take you a long way in life.
8. As I watch you grow and learn, I am reminded so very much of what I was like as a little girl. This often makes me smile, but it also makes me worry that you might still be reminding me of myself when you're 26...
9. I have learned the hard way that you should never be too proud to ask for help, or to say you're sorry when you've been or done wrong. Your unblemished pride won't be kind to you if you ever fall on hard times. Please take my word for it!
10. Whatever else I am, say or do, I am your mother and I love you. Everything else is secondary.
Mom.
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