The New PostSecret Book
12 years ago
Showing posts with label goals. Show all posts
Showing posts with label goals. Show all posts
Speaking as someone who has shown the ability to type upwards of 130 words per minute, I am going to shock even myself with what I'm about to say:
I really hate doing data entry.
Maybe it's just the specific kind of data entry I'm doing (insurance forms), but I'm sorely disappointed by how it has turned out. I envisioned a cubicle with stacks and stacks of papers that I would go through and enter information from, verbatim, until I was blue in the face. That, menial as it may sound, actually appealed to me.
Instead, we have this technology that allows you to scan in all those stacks of papers, and it tries to read them for you. And it fails, miserably. But it becomes my job to skim every unique form for useful information, all the while double-checking what the computer has assumed it was trying to say (and it is hardly ever right in its assumption). I guarantee my job would be done faster and more accurately if they would just let me erase everything and type from the beginning. Instead, I make mistakes, because I made the error of assuming that the "helpful" technology was actually going to be right with any manner of consistency.
It's infuriating after long enough. Every form turns into a maze of useless information, while I skim and probably give myself eye strain out the wazoo trying to find the little tidbits of alphanumerical data floating around on the pages (and each form looks entirely different from the last).
The days drag on, and on. If it weren't for amusing podcasts that keep my brain active, I probably would have put my 2 weeks in already. Today was hell, though.
It's just incredibly frustrating to have a job that should, by all rights, be entirely repetitive and tedious and boring, but is instead always teetering on the edge of those things. It's boring enough to make me tired, but it's not repetitive enough to allow me to get into a "flow," and let the work go fast and easy. Every new form is like a new stumbling block, with a different layout, and different crap I have to remember to pay attention to or completely ignore, based on utterly arbitrary standards that I was never trained on in the first place. Having never had testicles, I can't say for sure, but I imagine the perpetual feeling of almost getting into the swing of things are what blue balls feel like.
So, I'm trying to focus my brain on constructive things instead of letting it stagnate. I'm focusing on my future school decisions, my future career decisions, amusing blogs I can come up with in the future, and so on. I don't know how long I can keep this up, though. Can I survive the Summer? Tune in next time.
There is no future
There is no past
I live this moment as my last
There's only us
There's only this
Forget regret
Or life is yours to miss
No other road
No other way
No day but today
There is no past
I live this moment as my last
There's only us
There's only this
Forget regret
Or life is yours to miss
No other road
No other way
No day but today
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Even looking all the way back to middle and high school, things were just... different. I had a blog back then, one that is probably still hosted and I could go dig through, but I don't feel that depressed today. I wrote almost daily for a few years, and it felt good. I expressed myself, I had funny ideas and opinions that may not have been well-thought out, but were at least the beginnings of who I am and what I believe today. I always knew, coming home from school, what I wanted to write about, who I wanted to address, and I had friends in that community to support as they supported me.
I guess what I notice most about my childhood was that I could focus on something, on a little something, for hours. I spent far too much time in a sandbox, sifting through sand so I could find the pretty quartz crystals. Not to keep them, just to find them, go "Ooo" and then put them back and start again.
I would dig holes. Not for any exact purpose, I would just dig. Be it in a flower garden, or in the empty lot next to our new home, I would be out there digging away, and giggling as I played with the worms I found, and freaking out when I found maggots. Caterpillars were my favorites. I could see them on a grass blade from what seemed like a mile away. I could find the best plants to play with (Indian needles!) by skimming over a field for a second and finding their wavy tops.
Now? Now I just see grass and dirt. I don't see the bugs. I just see sand in a sandbox. Word searches are all right, but not very mentally stimulating. Very little gets my brain going like those days used to, and I miss it. I miss it very much.
I took a good step in trying to rediscover focus, recently. I quit World of Warcraft. Perhaps forever, perhaps not, but it was becoming a consumptive force in my life, rather than an idle pasttime. I was upset over things happening in a game, though the events did occur between people I knew in real life, or had known for a very long time through the game. That is not much of an excuse, though. It's still, overall, a game, and should not work against my enjoyment of my time spent playing it.
Also, I'm broke, so paying $15 a month for something that was making me miserable? No, thank you.
I've been reading more, been trying to keep in touch with friends more, been listening to more music, replaying old favorite games of mine to spark an interest in my consoles again. But I just feel... lost. I appreciate my being able to see the bigger picture, but sometimes I wish I could just switch back to looking at the components again. Sometimes it's nice to not be able to see the forest for the trees.
My first assumption about why this happens is simply that time goes by faster as you age. A day could, and did, last forever when I was younger. Children lack the ability to see beyond what is happening in the immediate or near future, and thus the moment is all that matters. Now, I know when I'm working 2 weeks in advance, I know when papers are due, when assignments must be completed, and when my tests are months before they occur. Everything is processed in conjunction with the future. Playing this game now means I will not be reading this book that I want to finish. Drinking this water now means I will have to use the restroom in the middle of the night. Slacking off today means I'll have more work tomorrow.
A second guess about my lack of focus and discernment recently has to do with the stage of life I'm at. I'm about to begin my 3rd year of college. I'm getting married in October. This is the point in life when everyone begins parsing out what they're going to do for the rest of their lives. They may be entirely wrong, but it seems most everyone attempts to plan it out, and Lord am I guilty of planning.
So now, all I see is the future. Getting through now to get to the blessed future where everything will be better. We'll have money and jobs, we'll have a house, we'll have a family, I'll work in a career I love instead of doing retail to pay the bills.
But just look out there. 4/5 college graduates don't have a job offer right now. Every home seems to be nearing foreclosure. More people are getting laid off, and less people are hiring. College is a safe haven. I should be happy I have a good relationship, and a job, not moaning about how I hate standing up for 6 hours and how things aren't how they were supposed to be. Get in line, self. Nobody's life turns out how they expected, and these times are making that more true than ever. Nobody expects to get laid off. Nobody expects to go bankrupt. Nobody expects any of this.
My plan so far has been shot down the drain, so why am I so insistent on making another one from the scraps, instead of focusing on the here, and the now. I can't keep living life in terms of the next obstacle in my way. I need to be prepared to handle what's coming, but instead, I sit and mope all day about having to go to work. I could be enjoying what time I have, instead of focusing on what's to come.
I miss the humor in my writing. I could be witty, once. I don't know where it's gone. It seems all I can write is the drama in my head, to make sense of what plagues me. That's dull, because it's always the same, but apparently I need to keep revisiting it. Someday, maybe the light will shine again.
Blackbird singing in the dead of night
Take these broken wings and learn to fly
All your life, you were only waiting
For this moment to arise
"Blackbird" - The Beatles
ANYWAY. The recovery also included losing my ability to smell and taste. I could taste things all throughout the actual illness, but now I'm left battling a mostly clear nose, but something is up in my sinuses blocking smell from getting to my brain. The only good part about this is that I was afraid the nerves might have actually been damaged throughout the sickness, and that can take forever to go away. But this morning I noticed I could taste things if I blow my nose (only while I am physically blowing my nose, though) or otherwise bent over at the waist. Weird, right?
So I have been doubly in the dumps for the past few days. It's kind of amazing how losing your taste buds can affect a fat girl who apparently relies on food to make her feel better (healthy relationships with food are for losers). I lost all meaning for a while. I just kind of sat dully on the couch, moping and refusing to eat because it felt like a waste if I couldn't taste it, and I got no joy from it. Not even that, feeling food and being unable to taste it was a legitimate downer for me.
But I've realized I will get my sense of taste back, and while I'm suffering from this head cold, I should probably just work on how I feel about food in general. For a spell, I was able to eat when I was hungry, stop when I was full, and I actually was not worried about what I would be eating next or having a snack or anything of the sort.
So, incredibly long introduction over, I am looking to be much more productive. I went on a walk with Fiance after dinner! We went to the nearby tattoo parlour to peruse their talents and see what they could offer (for when we have money again >_o), then we went to Wendy's and got some Frosties. It was a lovely night, and I wanted to take advantage of it before the heat rolls into town tomorrow.
I even put makeup on today! That was the other upper. I don't normally make myself up, but on a shopping run for some floss and shampoo, I saw some nail polish that matches my wedding dress and some eyeshadow that might as well, so I picked them up to play with. I felt all pretty, even with my raspy voice and occasional phlegmy coughing.
So walking was nice, aside from the problem that it was warmer INSIDE most of our stops than it was outside, so I ended up all sweaty. But a nice shower fixes all problems of that nature, and thus it has been a good day.
On a side note!
The paper referenced earlier? I scrambled all weekend to finish it, then found that it wasn't due until NEXT Monday. Which means it's kind of an awful paper written in a medicated, sick haze, but at least it's mostly done!
The OTHER paper I had to work on was supposed to be due in rough draft form tomorrow, but apparently the professor of that utterly useless class (uuuuugh) decided she would rather just be done with the class due to the students' complaints. This means we have moved our Final Exam up from May 10th or sommat, to THIS THURSDAY, and the exam review is tomorrow instead.
She also moved the rough draft to being due next Monday as well.
Oh well. At least I won't have to go to that class anymore, and I can just finish up this semester and never make these mistakes again. I've learned a lot from these months, but I'd really rather have done with it and move on.
Lessons Learned:
- Don't sign up for classes too early in the morning as a commuter (or even in general)
- Don't sign up for Lit classes. Just wait for them to post their syllabi, get the books that look interesting, and read them on your own. Seriously. Every Literature class suddenly devolves into boring reading sessions in class and then you do a research paper. Ugh.
- Take some fun elective to balance the rest of the crap you go through.
- Go to class. Really. But bring a second notebook to write and doodle in when it gets dull, because it always will.
- Stop playing WoW. No, really. It only gets in the way, and it's $16 a month I paid to NOT do my homework and struggle with my grades due to apathy and distraction.
That's all for now!
G'night. :)
College and I are not getting along at the moment. It’s not something that’s easy to define, considering that I’m still pulling above a 3.5 GPA, despite my hatred of most of my classes/professors so far. In fact, regardless how much I realize that all of this nonsense is just high school again, with more pretension and unnecessary tedium (I didn’t even think that was possible), I still feel completely unsure of my every move.
I am good at school. I am a nerd. I like learning. The problem is that I hate inefficiency and I often feel paranoid that everyone knows something I don’t. Like, I do well on tests that everyone else does poorly on, yet they all seem to be doing better at this entire “college” thing than I am.
What sense does this make? I have a major, I have an idea for what I’d like to do with my life, albeit not all hammered out. I know I’d like to work as a counselor somewhere. Teaching seems like a good thing to do, as well, so maybe I just need to make up my mind about my chosen career path. That’s something most people in college have to do, so I’m certainly not behind in that regard. I’m engaged, I’ve got my own bills and debts to pay, and I make them monthly with no real problem. I’ve taken out loans, I’ve bought books, I’ve passed classes, and I’ve managed to not throw my life away by making dumb choices, so that puts me ahead of the curve somewhat, right?
So why do I feel so cripplingly inferior in every class I’m in? My confidence disappears when I step foot on this campus. I get jumpy, I feel lost no matter how many times I’ve been to the same classroom, and I’m constantly looking at every person walking by. I don’t even know many people on this campus, why should I be checking every face that goes by?
It just feels like everyone else is playing a different game. Including the professors, sometimes. It’s like, I’m here to learn and get my career going and get on with my life. Other people seem to be here to engage in the College Process, to play a game with credits and advisors and professors and acceptance letters, and I just want to get out. My goal is to reach End, get my diploma and get a life of my own. Their goals all seem to be to rack up as many accomplishments and inconsequential pieces of trash on the way as possible.
And the advisors here? Suck. So very hard. Every time I enter one of their offices with a question, I leave with a gray-area answer and more questions than I had going in. They are the anti-helpful. Not only that, they also mislead you on what it takes to get what you’re trying to do. One says you need to minor in an area to be able to teach it, another says you need to major in it. Some say, “Maybe you should change your major altogether, except you don’t really have to, because one guy didn’t, but maybe you should.”
Thanks for that golden advice, Mrs. Vague.
Maybe the problem is just how alone I feel. I recognize people in my major classes more and more, but I don’t… I don’t have any friends here. I’ve never been good at the friends-at-school game. I always had one or two in grade school, but that tapered off when the guys discovered girls. High school was just a game of being friendly and involved with groups at school, but I never had anyone to hang out with after school.
Now I have people to hang out with after school, but I can’t find anyone to relate to AT school. I’m here for the majority of my day, and I’m alone, stuck in my thoughts and concerns about inadequacy. Also I’m constantly exhausted. It’s just so tiring, life.
I just want to be done. I want to have a steady job, have some freedom, instead of constantly fighting back the stack of papers and homework that chase me down the halls. Instead of worrying about how much I hate my classes. Instead of being crushed by depression and anxiety, to the point of not being able to get out of bed to go to class, no matter how much I worry about my grade in doing so.
The older I get, the more my goal in life seems to be to not be bothered and not be noticed. I just want to get things done, and not be a hindrance to anyone else’s comings and goings. I want to blend in.
But I don’t. That’s not what I want, it’s just what I’ve been reduced to. I want to help people, I want to care, and I want to feel that passion I had for learning and getting grades and reading and helping out and… I want to live again.
If only this place would stop strangling me, I think I would be able to. I don’t know. I don’t know what to do anymore. I mostly just want to sleep and cry.
I don’t think the Celexa is helping yet.
I'm enrolled in a class that covers topics dealing with abuse situations - child, spouse, dating partner, whatever kind of abuse, it's going to be touched on. And yesterday, the professor gave us a task: Find a goal for yourself. Something that we can do and change in our own lives that will lessen stress and strife for others.
Because, as she noted: We can only change ourselves. It's freeing to realize that you cannot be held responsible for the actions of other people, you can only do your best to make the changes evident in yourself.
So, I decided to be more in touch with what I'm feeling and stop hiding it and defending myself from it. I have a huge problem with bottling things up, one that I fight most of the time just to make myself stay sane and content. Little things, big things, it doesn't matter. I'm tired of not admitting to myself and others that I feel lonely, that I feel frustrated, that I feel anything but "fine" sometimes.
I'm not made to handle things on my own. I'm meant to help other people deal with their problems, and in return, to let them help me with mine. It's kind of a double standard to want to help support someone else, but to demand that I support myself as well. That's not helping, that's carrying them and crucifying myself.
So that's my goal. Stop hiding from what I feel, because it'll make itself evident eventually, and I'd like control over when and how that happens.
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