I think 9 days is the longest non-posting interval I've ever gone. What on earth would explain my absence from the intertrons, you ask? Lots of things!
I've started working 9-hour days since the beginning of September and have decided that 7 hours at work feels like 5, 8 hours feels like 8, and 9 hours feels like... 12. I think I've come to the conclusion that I can't take it anymore, even if I do get a half-day on Friday. I'm working my life away. :\
A week ago, S, me, and my future in-laws (FILs) went to see the drug-laden, nudity-featuring, flower child-themed musical, Hair, at a tiny local theater downtown. I was entertained, S was chagrined, FILs were moved, and the nudity at the very end was very... Contrived. And funny - the front row was so close to the "stage" that the unexpected disrobing caused a mass head-turnage event. One thing that did come of this rather bizarre experience (other than being accidentally spat upon by a cast member, having my toes crushed at least three times and being used as a landing pad by an overzealous hippie) is that...
//Begin Weddingishness
We've chosen our wedding venue, and we have a date!
Monday December 28th, 2009.
Things sort of accelerated from there; we are now registered ::hack, gag, snort:: at Crate & Barrel ::snoooort:: and have miraculously managed to reconcile our [sometimes differing] tastes enough to happily agree on [some] items. I gave in on the whole registry thing; it's bad manners to refuse to accept gifts from self-motivated benefactors, and courtesy to let them know which items would be most appreciated. When the FILs came to have dinner at our new place the other weekend, P (FIL) was mortified to discover that I lacked a saucepan, enough plates to go around, and an adequate amount of matching cutlery. We've reserved our reception venue (little French Brasserie north of town) and will be receiving the winter menu later this month, we've reserved a block of hotel rooms for our guests, the bridesmaids have their black Grecian dresses (with complications...), mom has her silk dress from J. Crew, invitations have been chosen as of last night. The only things left are details such as photography, flowers, setup, outfits for the males, and the rehearsal dinner (which is the groom's parents' domain).
//End Weddingishness
In other news, Jesper has started peeing on the carpet in the dark space under my desk. I am so upset by this development that I think I might need anti-anxiety meds. I can't abide perfectly healthy animals secreting icky byproducts in non-designated areas. We've scrubbed and washed, yelled, sprayed, isolated and chastised, to no avail. The next step will be to purchase some floor tiles to cover the space, which I'll do sometime this week. Hopefully I won't kill the little fuzzybutt first. :\
I applied for a spiff job today. I can't continue to spend the best years of my life doing something I don't enjoy for more than 50% of the time. I can't keep waking up every morning at 5:45 AM and staggering to the shower with one thought in my mind - "Will I make it to 5:30?" My happiness is worth so much more than the money, yet... I need the money to survive. I need the money to be able to cover for S when he gets into Juilliard and has to sing his ass off. I need it to pay off my own student loans.
To tell you the truth, I'm worried about next fall. I'm very much aware of the realities involved in relocating to a crowded city and living in a place half as nice as our current apartment, for twice the rent. Teeming masses and cramped underground passageways terrify the living daylights out of me, but how else am I going to get to work? And where will I work? What if I find my dream job here, only to leave it behind in a year for something much worse? It's almost as if I don't want to invest in anything because I know I'm going to lose it. I shouldn't get too attached to our home, because I'm going to leave it behind. Better never to have loved at all, or something suchlike. It's no way to live, and it's selfish, and wrong. It's almost analogous to what I despise about the Amish: Ignorance is bliss.
One ubiquitous proverb implores us to do the things we think we cannot do. Why don't we put the same value on doing the things that we KNOW we CAN do, and love to do? I say we take more pleasure in doing the things that come easily and quickly to us, that take no effort and bring us joy and peace. There is something wrong with the fact that I find fault in sitting on the couch for 8 hours playing Nintendo DS, in falling asleep of an afternoon for three hours, in sitting on the porch and staring off into space with a mug of coffee in my hand. Why do those activities fall so neatly into the Wasted Time category?
I've started working 9-hour days since the beginning of September and have decided that 7 hours at work feels like 5, 8 hours feels like 8, and 9 hours feels like... 12. I think I've come to the conclusion that I can't take it anymore, even if I do get a half-day on Friday. I'm working my life away. :\
A week ago, S, me, and my future in-laws (FILs) went to see the drug-laden, nudity-featuring, flower child-themed musical, Hair, at a tiny local theater downtown. I was entertained, S was chagrined, FILs were moved, and the nudity at the very end was very... Contrived. And funny - the front row was so close to the "stage" that the unexpected disrobing caused a mass head-turnage event. One thing that did come of this rather bizarre experience (other than being accidentally spat upon by a cast member, having my toes crushed at least three times and being used as a landing pad by an overzealous hippie) is that...
//Begin Weddingishness
We've chosen our wedding venue, and we have a date!
Monday December 28th, 2009.
Things sort of accelerated from there; we are now registered ::hack, gag, snort:: at Crate & Barrel ::snoooort:: and have miraculously managed to reconcile our [sometimes differing] tastes enough to happily agree on [some] items. I gave in on the whole registry thing; it's bad manners to refuse to accept gifts from self-motivated benefactors, and courtesy to let them know which items would be most appreciated. When the FILs came to have dinner at our new place the other weekend, P (FIL) was mortified to discover that I lacked a saucepan, enough plates to go around, and an adequate amount of matching cutlery. We've reserved our reception venue (little French Brasserie north of town) and will be receiving the winter menu later this month, we've reserved a block of hotel rooms for our guests, the bridesmaids have their black Grecian dresses (with complications...), mom has her silk dress from J. Crew, invitations have been chosen as of last night. The only things left are details such as photography, flowers, setup, outfits for the males, and the rehearsal dinner (which is the groom's parents' domain).
//End Weddingishness
In other news, Jesper has started peeing on the carpet in the dark space under my desk. I am so upset by this development that I think I might need anti-anxiety meds. I can't abide perfectly healthy animals secreting icky byproducts in non-designated areas. We've scrubbed and washed, yelled, sprayed, isolated and chastised, to no avail. The next step will be to purchase some floor tiles to cover the space, which I'll do sometime this week. Hopefully I won't kill the little fuzzybutt first. :\
I applied for a spiff job today. I can't continue to spend the best years of my life doing something I don't enjoy for more than 50% of the time. I can't keep waking up every morning at 5:45 AM and staggering to the shower with one thought in my mind - "Will I make it to 5:30?" My happiness is worth so much more than the money, yet... I need the money to survive. I need the money to be able to cover for S when he gets into Juilliard and has to sing his ass off. I need it to pay off my own student loans.
To tell you the truth, I'm worried about next fall. I'm very much aware of the realities involved in relocating to a crowded city and living in a place half as nice as our current apartment, for twice the rent. Teeming masses and cramped underground passageways terrify the living daylights out of me, but how else am I going to get to work? And where will I work? What if I find my dream job here, only to leave it behind in a year for something much worse? It's almost as if I don't want to invest in anything because I know I'm going to lose it. I shouldn't get too attached to our home, because I'm going to leave it behind. Better never to have loved at all, or something suchlike. It's no way to live, and it's selfish, and wrong. It's almost analogous to what I despise about the Amish: Ignorance is bliss.
One ubiquitous proverb implores us to do the things we think we cannot do. Why don't we put the same value on doing the things that we KNOW we CAN do, and love to do? I say we take more pleasure in doing the things that come easily and quickly to us, that take no effort and bring us joy and peace. There is something wrong with the fact that I find fault in sitting on the couch for 8 hours playing Nintendo DS, in falling asleep of an afternoon for three hours, in sitting on the porch and staring off into space with a mug of coffee in my hand. Why do those activities fall so neatly into the Wasted Time category?
3 comments:
I was under the impression that it was "better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all..." ;)
optimist. pbltblt!
You know, when I was in NC for 9 mos, I was in the mentality of always moving, and tried not to get to attached to anything or anyone. I'm glad I failed.
<3,
rh
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