I love my new job.
Except, you know.
I've begun chanting "I've only been here for three weeks" like a mantra. I've been told that no one has ever taken over all of their job responsibilities so quickly, which is nice, but I feel like an idiot pretty much every day, which is not so nice.
I recognize that it's arrogant to believe that I should already know how to do everything. Apparently, I have arrogance issues, then, because I hate -- HATE -- that this is not the case. Yesterday, I was able to answer three whole questions by myself. While this was an improvement over last Friday, when I was able to answer ONE question by myself, it's a tiny drop in the inquisition bucket of eight zillion questions I have to answer in the course of the day.
On one hand, this should be properly humbling and inspiring, right? So much to learn! I love learning!
On the other hand, waaaaaaaaah I don't know ANYTHING!
I keep telling the people in my life who are going through hard times something that I firmly believe to be true: in life, you have to struggle a bit (or, you know, a lot) in order to learn the big lessons -- the ones about mortality, and who you are, and all of that.
But there's that arrogance again, I guess, because the truth is that whether or not I believe that to be true, I get -- pissed off -- when I find myself in the struggle. Apparently, I really do think I should just know everything.
I recognize that the above is a ridiculous statement.
So. I am trying to apply my zen. I am trying to believe that the struggle to learn more quickly is a valuable one. I am trying to recognize that there is something lovely in the brain's elasticity and ability to bend around and incorporate new concepts. And, to be honest, I do recognize and believe all of those things, even if my recognition and belief is wrapped in a thick layer of frustration.
My saving grace is this: my new coworkers are truly amazing. I've never worked in a more supportive environment. They're encouraging and funny and awesome, and they keep telling me that I'm doing great, and reminding me that we're a team.
And I am learning. How to be good at my job, but also, how to be more humble. How to ask for help. How to let myself be supported and how to have realistic expectations of myself.
It's hard. Most lessons like this are.
But it will be worth the struggle.
Tuesday, April 30, 2013
Monday, April 29, 2013
Toxic
Sadly, more than one person in my life is currently dealing with a toxic relationship.
When you brush up against someone who is poison to you -- and we've all done it -- it's easy to let that poison seep into your own pores and ruin everything you touch, so that you run the risk of becoming equally toxic to the people in your own life. It's sort of like how we react to people who commit horrible, atrocious acts -- we forget to be better than they are, and start to want to demand that they are harmed in the way that they have harmed others. We lose our ability to empathize and find our compassion. I'm not suggesting, in case you think I am, that people who do terrible things shouldn't be punished for them -- they should be -- but I do strongly believe that when we forget our own humanity and begin thinking of people as things, or deserving targets of anger and harm, then we have become what we hate.
It's important not to do that.
It's important to understand that people who are toxic to you are still people. They're people who are acting in a way that makes sense to them for a reason that you don't or can't understand and who are causing you pain because it's all they know how to do.
They're people who, for some reason, need to contain their pain by hurting other people.
I'm not saying anyone should continue on with someone who is toxic, and I'm not saying that toxic, poisonous behaviour should be tolerated. What I do think, though, is that it's important -- for your own sanity, for your own self respect -- to try to keep your sense of perspective, and to try to find some kind of empathy for someone who only knows how to lash out and can't figure out how to love -- because that is what makes people toxic.
And that is incredibly sad.
I was thinking the other day that I have two hands for a reason -- one to hold on, and one to reach out. Toxic people don't know how to reach out -- they only know how to strike out. They can't open up their hands because they only know how to make fists that strike. I can't imagine not being able to hold someone's hand if I need to because I'm too busy making a cold, hard fist with the intention of hurting someone who is determined to reach out to me because s/he does love me. What a lonely, sad, isolating way to live.
Again, I think it's important to remove yourself from toxic situations and relationships. But I also believe this: if you take on that poison and let it become who you are, then you have lost more than a relationship. You've lost what makes you amazing and wonderful, and that's hard to get back.
One hand to hold on, and one to reach out, and one heart to love.
Those are the things you need to keep, no matter where you find yourself.
When you brush up against someone who is poison to you -- and we've all done it -- it's easy to let that poison seep into your own pores and ruin everything you touch, so that you run the risk of becoming equally toxic to the people in your own life. It's sort of like how we react to people who commit horrible, atrocious acts -- we forget to be better than they are, and start to want to demand that they are harmed in the way that they have harmed others. We lose our ability to empathize and find our compassion. I'm not suggesting, in case you think I am, that people who do terrible things shouldn't be punished for them -- they should be -- but I do strongly believe that when we forget our own humanity and begin thinking of people as things, or deserving targets of anger and harm, then we have become what we hate.
It's important not to do that.
It's important to understand that people who are toxic to you are still people. They're people who are acting in a way that makes sense to them for a reason that you don't or can't understand and who are causing you pain because it's all they know how to do.
They're people who, for some reason, need to contain their pain by hurting other people.
I'm not saying anyone should continue on with someone who is toxic, and I'm not saying that toxic, poisonous behaviour should be tolerated. What I do think, though, is that it's important -- for your own sanity, for your own self respect -- to try to keep your sense of perspective, and to try to find some kind of empathy for someone who only knows how to lash out and can't figure out how to love -- because that is what makes people toxic.
And that is incredibly sad.
I was thinking the other day that I have two hands for a reason -- one to hold on, and one to reach out. Toxic people don't know how to reach out -- they only know how to strike out. They can't open up their hands because they only know how to make fists that strike. I can't imagine not being able to hold someone's hand if I need to because I'm too busy making a cold, hard fist with the intention of hurting someone who is determined to reach out to me because s/he does love me. What a lonely, sad, isolating way to live.
Again, I think it's important to remove yourself from toxic situations and relationships. But I also believe this: if you take on that poison and let it become who you are, then you have lost more than a relationship. You've lost what makes you amazing and wonderful, and that's hard to get back.
One hand to hold on, and one to reach out, and one heart to love.
Those are the things you need to keep, no matter where you find yourself.
Friday, April 26, 2013
sorry!
I know I've been erratic about posting this week... It's been a little, erm, unusual around here lately. I'm trying to figure out a way to make sure I can keep a regular posting schedule and should be back to normal next week. Thanks to everyone who's checked in to make sure all is well ... I'll be back to my regularly scheduled programming soon!
Wednesday, April 24, 2013
Learning To Let Go
I am a person who likes to think that, when confronted with a bad situation, I can fix it if I just try hard enough.
I have repeatedly found that this is not true. The tricky part of human nature, though, is this: just because you know intellectually that something isn't true doesn't mean that you stop believing it.
It's a challenge, though, because I will work myself into a tremendous stress ball trying to fix things when what I really need to do is back up and release my sense of ownership. Because I do not, despite all of my joking, run the universe. I can't control it.
Neither can you.
The only thing I can do is my best. Do my best and hope for grace and understand that my best is always good enough, even if I don't end up fixing anything.
And then let it go.
I have repeatedly found that this is not true. The tricky part of human nature, though, is this: just because you know intellectually that something isn't true doesn't mean that you stop believing it.
It's a challenge, though, because I will work myself into a tremendous stress ball trying to fix things when what I really need to do is back up and release my sense of ownership. Because I do not, despite all of my joking, run the universe. I can't control it.
Neither can you.
The only thing I can do is my best. Do my best and hope for grace and understand that my best is always good enough, even if I don't end up fixing anything.
And then let it go.
Monday, April 22, 2013
Coffee Fail
Once upon a time, I bought a Keurig Mini.*
I loved that thing. It was glorious. Right up until the day it was like, "So sorry, Ma'am, but I can no longer brew coffee for you. Lalalalalala look I'm a paperweight."
This was not a good thing. Yellie needs coffee. So I bought another one. It, like its predecessor, was red and shiny and made hot, delicious coffee.
Happiness was restored throughout the land.
Last week -- on a morning after I'd gotten about four hours of sleep because I'd been at the emergency vet all night, when I needed my coffee jump start more than usual? The Curse of the Keurig struck again.
Being muzzy headed and exhausted, I did something very similar to what I had done when my first Keurig decided to quit on the job:
I stared at it.
I may have whimpered.
I thunked it with the heel of my hand.
I pressed the brew button again.
The Keurig whined and then ... nothing.
NOTHING.
I may have whimpered a few more times and then considered curling into the fetal position.
When my first Keurig gave up the ghost, I worked from home. Lack of coffee was a definite situation, but it wasn't, like, a total emergency. HOWEVER, this time, with four hours of sleep and a fossilized Keurig, I was going to have to DRIVE.
No one, and I mean NO ONE, would want this to happen.
Fortunately, there's an Irving station down the street. Their coffee isn't, you know, terrible. But having to purchase coffee when I knew that I had coffee at my house -- even if it was coffee I couldn't brew -- and having to drive with no coffee in my system?
This made me unhappy.
Two Keurigs in less than two years makes me unhappy.
The one on my counter, which is toast, is still under warranty. I could, in theory, have called the company and demanded a replacement. That's what most people would do, I think.
It's not what I did. Here's why: this product is not working for me. What, am I going to call them every six to eight months after I go through this? How ridiculous is that? SO RIDICULOUS. It's not happening.
Over the weekend, I bought an old school coffee maker. K-cups? I laugh in the face of the k-cup. Bring me filters! Bring me whole bean coffee that I will grind in the privacy of my own home. WITH MY TEETH. (I'm kidding, I have a grinder.)
But mostly? Bring me a coffee maker that WORKS. For the love of all that is holy, I need coffee.
And trust me when I tell you that everyone else on the road -- and everyone else in my office -- wants me to have it.
*I know people who have other Keurig models who have not had my experience. All of these complaints are related directly to my ownership of the Mini.
I loved that thing. It was glorious. Right up until the day it was like, "So sorry, Ma'am, but I can no longer brew coffee for you. Lalalalalala look I'm a paperweight."
This was not a good thing. Yellie needs coffee. So I bought another one. It, like its predecessor, was red and shiny and made hot, delicious coffee.
Happiness was restored throughout the land.
Last week -- on a morning after I'd gotten about four hours of sleep because I'd been at the emergency vet all night, when I needed my coffee jump start more than usual? The Curse of the Keurig struck again.
Being muzzy headed and exhausted, I did something very similar to what I had done when my first Keurig decided to quit on the job:
I stared at it.
I may have whimpered.
I thunked it with the heel of my hand.
I pressed the brew button again.
The Keurig whined and then ... nothing.
NOTHING.
I may have whimpered a few more times and then considered curling into the fetal position.
When my first Keurig gave up the ghost, I worked from home. Lack of coffee was a definite situation, but it wasn't, like, a total emergency. HOWEVER, this time, with four hours of sleep and a fossilized Keurig, I was going to have to DRIVE.
No one, and I mean NO ONE, would want this to happen.
Fortunately, there's an Irving station down the street. Their coffee isn't, you know, terrible. But having to purchase coffee when I knew that I had coffee at my house -- even if it was coffee I couldn't brew -- and having to drive with no coffee in my system?
This made me unhappy.
Two Keurigs in less than two years makes me unhappy.
The one on my counter, which is toast, is still under warranty. I could, in theory, have called the company and demanded a replacement. That's what most people would do, I think.
It's not what I did. Here's why: this product is not working for me. What, am I going to call them every six to eight months after I go through this? How ridiculous is that? SO RIDICULOUS. It's not happening.
Over the weekend, I bought an old school coffee maker. K-cups? I laugh in the face of the k-cup. Bring me filters! Bring me whole bean coffee that I will grind in the privacy of my own home. WITH MY TEETH. (I'm kidding, I have a grinder.)
But mostly? Bring me a coffee maker that WORKS. For the love of all that is holy, I need coffee.
And trust me when I tell you that everyone else on the road -- and everyone else in my office -- wants me to have it.
*I know people who have other Keurig models who have not had my experience. All of these complaints are related directly to my ownership of the Mini.
Friday, April 19, 2013
Friday Randoms
I
"Oh! Thank you! What you said just reminded me that I have to do something!"
"You're welcome."
"That's like the third time today that you've done that."
"It's my superpower. I'm Reminder Girl."
"Mild mannered cubicle worker by day, appointment calendar by night?"
"... something like that."
II
"He just kept telling me to stuff it. 'Stuff your crew. Stuff your job. Stuff your logistics.' So finally, I just started agreeing with him. 'Yes, sir, I will stuff that. Yes sir, I will add that to the list of things I will stuff.' "
"Did it work?"
"Not really, but I thought it was worth a shot."
III
"... and that's when my SECOND Keurig shit the bed."
"Are you giving up on the Keurig?"
"It has ONE JOB: Provide me with coffee so I can function. Since it's not even managing that? I DO think I'm giving it up. It's taking up valuable counter space and for NOTHING."
"But you're not bitter."
"Do I look like I'm not bitter? I AM SO BITTER."
IV
"She's a very pretty kitty."
"Thank you."
"And I bet she's nice... when, you know, she's not at the vet."
"I know this is hard to believe, since she acts like a mountain lion when she's here? But she really is a nice kitty."
"At least she's pretty everywhere?"
V
"Are you losing weight?"
"Yep."
"I can tell."
"It turns out that when you're not self medicating with wine, like, every day? It's way easier to lose weight."
"So THAT'S how you survived that job for so long."
"Yep. Me and Merlot. We were a team."
"Oh! Thank you! What you said just reminded me that I have to do something!"
"You're welcome."
"That's like the third time today that you've done that."
"It's my superpower. I'm Reminder Girl."
"Mild mannered cubicle worker by day, appointment calendar by night?"
"... something like that."
II
"He just kept telling me to stuff it. 'Stuff your crew. Stuff your job. Stuff your logistics.' So finally, I just started agreeing with him. 'Yes, sir, I will stuff that. Yes sir, I will add that to the list of things I will stuff.' "
"Did it work?"
"Not really, but I thought it was worth a shot."
III
"... and that's when my SECOND Keurig shit the bed."
"Are you giving up on the Keurig?"
"It has ONE JOB: Provide me with coffee so I can function. Since it's not even managing that? I DO think I'm giving it up. It's taking up valuable counter space and for NOTHING."
"But you're not bitter."
"Do I look like I'm not bitter? I AM SO BITTER."
IV
"She's a very pretty kitty."
"Thank you."
"And I bet she's nice... when, you know, she's not at the vet."
"I know this is hard to believe, since she acts like a mountain lion when she's here? But she really is a nice kitty."
"At least she's pretty everywhere?"
V
"Are you losing weight?"
"Yep."
"I can tell."
"It turns out that when you're not self medicating with wine, like, every day? It's way easier to lose weight."
"So THAT'S how you survived that job for so long."
"Yep. Me and Merlot. We were a team."
Thursday, April 18, 2013
Grace In Small Things
Bean and I spent the night at the emergency vet and got home at 1 AM. This was, as you can probably imagine, not festive.
But it was an exercise in kindness. From the man with the injured greyhound (who was named Oreo, so in my head, this gentleman's name is Oreo's Dad) who took the time to speak with me when I was incredibly upset, to the vet's assistant who checked in with me while we waited for a treatment room to open up and took the time to talk to Bean and comment on what a nice, pretty cat she is, to the vet who was calm and reassuring when I needed calm and reassurance.
And of course, there's Flinkie, who, after receiving my text about where I was going, called to see if I was okay and then just showed up at the vet, like there was nothing else she'd be doing on a Wednesday night.
As for Miss Bean, well, xrays were taken and tests are being run in a lab somewhere. So we'll see. But right now, she's curled up on the daybed and she's taking a nap, so that's enough for me. That, and gratitude for the kindness of strangers and good friends.
But it was an exercise in kindness. From the man with the injured greyhound (who was named Oreo, so in my head, this gentleman's name is Oreo's Dad) who took the time to speak with me when I was incredibly upset, to the vet's assistant who checked in with me while we waited for a treatment room to open up and took the time to talk to Bean and comment on what a nice, pretty cat she is, to the vet who was calm and reassuring when I needed calm and reassurance.
And of course, there's Flinkie, who, after receiving my text about where I was going, called to see if I was okay and then just showed up at the vet, like there was nothing else she'd be doing on a Wednesday night.
As for Miss Bean, well, xrays were taken and tests are being run in a lab somewhere. So we'll see. But right now, she's curled up on the daybed and she's taking a nap, so that's enough for me. That, and gratitude for the kindness of strangers and good friends.
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