New Career Aspiration

Job title: Explorer in Residence

Inspiration and mentor: Robert Ballard

Did you just make that up?

There is another language out there unknown to most people . One made up of carrots, frags, and dicts. That's right, I'm talking about proofreading. Today I got my ass handed to me by a production manager who had to show me a thing or two I was not aware of in the realm of proof reading.

Did you know to insert a 'm dash' you write this : 1/m

Or how about to insert a 'n dash' you write: 1/n

And do you know why they are called a M and a N dash? (wow, just looking at that hurts my mind) Because the M dash is as long as a M and the N dash is as long as a N.

Now I'm off to go make space ≠ and make new paragraphs

¶ in this text I have, in order to give it back in perfect proofread condition to this production manager. Ta!

Back to the Real World

Dear April -

It really has been lovely. Thank you for inspiring me, keeping me writing, and giving me back some creativity I thought I'd lost.

I would have liked to go out with a BANG! but alas, the head cold is only now moving on and I don't want to do anything that might draw its attention back to me. Today I am back at work, hopefully I'll accomplish something.

Yesterday the interview went...fine. I didn't leave with a sense that they loved me, but I also didn't leave feeling I wasn't qualified or that my chances were slim. The woman mentioned having a few more interviews to do next week, so by next Friday, I should hear the final answer. One thing I could strengthen up on is my Young Adult reading. The woman who's position I would be filling described her one challenge as being able to tell "super readers" new books to read. Now that's the kind of challenge I want - to read more books to be able to recommend them to students! Being at the school, talking about books, seeing the students really made me excited. I can't wait for my school to start!

So, onward and upward into May. Remember -

There are only five days until Cinco de Erikka.


Fondly,
Erikka

Free At Last

Dear Sudafed,

You have made my life so much better. I can think again! I can get up, take a shower, and LIVE again. Thank you sudafed. Thank you for making this day less snotty and more bearable for when 3pm rolls around and I go to my interview.


Cheers,
Erikka

Lunch Hour Snob

Dear Colleagues,

Remember about a year ago, before I started working here? Remember how the thought was - the earlier the lunch the better? By 11:00 am stomachs all over the office would be grumbling, and by noon, everyone would be on their way to their own personal food coma.

Then a new cat came to town, a rebel. I ate my lunches alone, a book in hand, and I ate them late, like 1:00 pm late. Was the sight of me lingering at 2:oo pm too much for y'all? Did it somehow appear like my lunch was longer than yours? Or did you catch on that afternoons fly by when you're getting back from lunch a mere three hours before you get to leave?

Whatever the case, my solitary lunches have been despoiled. My alone time has been invaded. Now y'all gather in the dozens at 12:30 or 1:00 to monopolize my lunch hour and enjoy its benefits. Benefits which were MINE... I'm not a good sharer, I'll admit it. Even in third grade I felt put off and jealous when my then best friend wanted to ask someone to play with us at recess. There's no room for me, you and someone (or SOMEONES) else. It's one-to-one or nothin', bee-yotch.

My message to you now, my dear work colleagues - scram from my lunch time! Be brave, find your own lunch hour. Just not on my time. We cool?


Respectfully submitted,
Cubicle Worker #68

I've made up mind, I ain't Wastin' No More Time

I am truly blessed to have a few people I trust deeply, who know me well. When I go to these people for advice on life changing decisions, I can be assured they are not going to tell me what I should do or what the right thing is or what they would do – they are going to honor who I am and the person I strive to be, and answer from that place. They ask the hard questions, they push me to defend my ideas, and challenge the spots that seem weak and they do this because they love me. Sometimes the process can feel like torture and one big doubt fest on my part, but by the end, I’ve worked out my answer to my question.

After posting my conundrum a few days ago, I needed an appointment with one of these said people, people I have termed “life counselors.” This time it was Laurie. And did she ever push me to defend the idea of getting a GSLIS degree. I thanked her profusely when we were done our Gchat (my discovery of the year), but I’ll say it again here – Laurie, thank you! I needed to put into words what I hope to do and why I am doing it.

There was one major crux I happened to leave out of the other list of fear invoking reasons to go or not to go, so I began the conversation by blurting it out – “I want to be an Ag. Ed. Teacher.” Her response – “Then why are you going to school to be a Librarian and not for environmental education?” For about an hour, I defended this choice and by the end, I not only convinced her, but I reminded myself of my plans. Good plans!

I am going to Simmons College this fall to become a school Librarian. Though the ideal of having summers off may not be entirely true (and dear Ms. NancyPearlWannaBe, do correct me if I am wrong), I will have a good portion of the warmest months free. In this time I will pursue a true inspiration and passion of mine – Agricultural Education. This could mean me working as a farmer’s apprentice (aka hired labor) on a farm, volunteering as a garden training facilitator in a community garden, or being a teacher on a farm, working with groups of youth OR working on Jason’s sister’s farm doing any of the above. From my past, I have the career and volunteer experience to do this transition and market myself well. In the meantime, I can volunteer to brush up on my Ag. skills and keep myself current in the field. Some day, if I do end up on a farm as a partner or just the farmer’s wife, it will only help the farm to have an outside source of income for more support, a Plan B if you will.

My anxiety dreams are gone. At work, I feel lighter and happier. This is the right decision and I feel good about it, finally! Thank you to all my blog friends, new and old, who responded with so much kindness and concern. What a crazy thought to know I have a nation wide network of support and encouragement in addition to the people I physically see or phone in my life.

as of 4:26 pm - Yesterday The Universe sent me an email and this is what it said -

What if the word 'work' was changed to 'dance-with-life,' Erikka? And instead of it being viewed as an alternative to fishing or a way to "pay your dues," it was seen as a chance to meet a parade of new friends, discover your own untested potentials and unpolished gifts, and open avenues for abundance to come pouring into your life?

Thank you, Universe. This is so very poignant for me right now.

Working in a Coal Mine, Whoop! About to Slip doooown

My mother has worked in some fashion since she was about ten years old (back in the day 10 was ok to baby-sit for your family's little ones. Yikes!). Throughout her working life she has held jobs in approximately three...or four fields - service, administrative, industry (a factory), and office management. She's worked for a lot of different places, especially when she was a waitress. But overall, she's been pretty steadfast in her working habits and never been unemployed. Her longest career was as an office manager with the State, where she worked for about 12 years.

Currently my mom is again an office manager. Unfortunately, she's the office manager of a dying office. Her boss is cutting costs and saving money, which could mean my mom loses her job. My mother is 56 years old and going back on the job market probably isn't the first thing she'd opt to do at this age. This irritates me, pains me, and adds to my disappointment in our system of work. No one who is over the age of 50 should have to start all over again. They've done their time. They've worked. They've contributed to social security and to the unemployment fund. Shouldn't we start paying THEM and congratulating them for a job well done? I'm not talking about forced retirement and no options to work again. No. I am talking about a system with healthy supports in place for people over 50 if they lose their jobs. A system where there are jobs for people over 50 who want to work, and not just the crappiest jobs no one else wants to do (this sounds so familiar...). Old people, immigrant peoples, any one who is not young, virile and otherwise PERFECT in every way on some checklist only available to the elite, are all marginalized in our country. Shoved out of sight, working at night, and given little to no support. Here's a scenario -

Last summer, I stopped at a Dunkin' Donuts in Quincy. The day was Saturday, around 9:00am. The parking lot was full with a line of cars waiting and there was a crowded waiting area inside. Behind the counter was either a woman who looked to be about 80 years old from years of abusing her body or a real 80 year old woman. I believed the latter to be true and it pained me to be there, watching her fill orders for breakfast sandwiches. The woman was 80 years old! No one who is 80 years old should be working in a Dunkin' Donuts. Later, when I shared these sentiments with a friend, they challenged my assumptions by asking me how I knew she didn't want to be there? How did I know? How did I know that an 80 year old woman might not want to be up at 9 serving teenagers with hangovers their breakfast sandwiches? My retort was not based on fact, "Do you know ANYONE who wants to be working at Dunkin' Donuts if they don't HAVE to work there?"

This is the fate I would like to be avoided by my mother and other women and men like her, people over the age of 50 forced back into the work force to compete against fresh faced 20 somethings with a competitive edge that could be lethal.

end rant.


* * * For anyone interested, my beau and I biked our first twenty miles and you can read about it here. * * *

To Go or Not To Go, 'Tis the Question

There is a big decision looming in my future. At first, this decision seemed easy to make, a no brainer:

I want to change my career + I’ve wanted to pursue education and working with youth + in MA you need a degree and certification = go to graduate school.

The process of applying and researching schools started about five months ago. I got this excitement and hope for my future for which I’ve been longing. My brother steered me in a direction I hadn’t considered, Library and Information Science, which turned out to be a better fit for me than being a classroom teacher. Filling out forms is something I like to do, so I went at my applications and had them complete in no time. Easy. Done. Submitted three months ago. Then what? Wait.

The wait is over. The results are in. I have been accepted into two graduate programs for Library and Information Science, one at Simmons College the other at the University of Rhode Island. All I have to do is pick one and come fall of ’08, I am a student again. Learning is one of my top five favorite things to do. My time in school was rewarding. Yet the idea of going back to school is not quite appeasing all of my mind…and the usual relief and rush of excitement at finally knowing the future for at least the next step is not happening.

I’ve told a few people about this plan, but not many beyond my family for various reasons. There was no intention of leaving it out of my blog, it just wasn’t part of the strand that has been weaving through my blog of late. But maybe even that was a subconscious sign. How could changing my entire way of life NOT be something on my mind every day? So I have to admit, the lack of sharing this and getting excited is because of one reason –

Fear

Instead of talking about it too much, the fear has found its expression through other means, mostly my dreams. Every night for the past month or so, I’ve woken up in the wee hours, my mind instantly cataloging necessary changes I will need to make, calculating debt and financial costs for living and going to school, and just a huge amount of anxiety at really doing any of it. And when I’ve tried talking about this with my beau, I can’t even put into words what is driving my anxiety, why I feel so afraid of this decision…so I can’t brainstorm solutions or assuage my anxious mind. Talking about it just makes me feel worse somehow.

It’s the not knowing. Not knowing where my money will come from, other than loans. It’s not knowing if I will have a job come 2010 when I graduate. It’s knowing I will be in school until 2010!!!! It is knowing I will be 30 when I graduate. It’s knowing life will sort of be on hold while I spend two years getting a piece of paper that will allow me to move on to the next step in my career that I cannot take without that piece of paper. It is knowing that everyone else I know will still be moving forward with their lives like regularly schedule programs to which I will be tuned out of for a while. And what about my old self who said, “I won’t go to grad school unless someone pays for me!” or “I don’t want to be in school again. It’s too disconnected from LIFE.” Those feelings are probably part of what is making me balk at the very idea of me going back to school...doi.

And after rambling and letting out the doubts I’m still faced with the unanswerable question –

Do I really want to do this?

The unanswerable question that comes with its own set of anxieties to which I have no solutions to, either. If I don’t go to school, then what? Continue working where I am, getting no advancement because I have no motivation or ambition in this field, until someone finally admits it and fires me. Get another job…doing what? Where? And who will pay me enough to live comfortably in Boston? In the last year, I received the raise that finally enables me to live and not worry about money. If I start all over again in a new field, I have to start all over at the lowest pay range too, depending on experience.

So. This is really what has been in the back of mind, at the forefront of my dreams, and silently in all my conversations for some time. I don’t expect the answer to just come to me from writing this post. I feel better just saying it aloud, making my fear and doubts real for myself. Graduate school and taking on more debt are not decisions I should make lightly. Graduate school is not something to just do for the sake of doing. What do I really want?

I have until April 4th to make this decision.

What I Wanna Be When I Grow Up

A while ago I wrote about my scoffing at the thought of reading other people’s blogs. And how at the time, I was already growing into a blogaholic. Well, the addiction has gripped me and I am now compelled to read blogs every day. Some days I read through my entire blog roll. Others I go to my favorites (Are We There Yet?, The Daily Tannenbaum, Pass the Chalk, The Simple Family, Gruppie Girl). And other days, really bad days, I read new blogs I find through other people’s blogs (The Written Nerd, Touch the Earth Farm, Barn Raisin’).

The blog world is a crazy one. A world where your blog readers feel like your friends though you’ve never met them and may never meet them. A world where you can reinvent yourself daily if desired; a new blog for every new you. But there is something grounding and rewarding I’ve found in becoming truly invested in this world. By giving in to my excitement to write, read, and see someone has commented, I am propelled forward to grow, discover, learn and creatively challenge myself. Who knew a virtual world created by millions of strangers that constantly changes could be so reliable and supportive?

A challenge all bloggers face, either once or repeatedly, is the question “What is the focus of my blog?” I thought I had just confronted this demon and come back with a good answer. However, I feel this challenge again. Through my random blog readings, I come across people writing about my other passions and think, why am I not writing about this topic? This is something I love too! I feel spurred on to write about all my passions at the same time, which would turn into 20 blogs, all neglected and rotting.

So I ask myself again, What is my focus? At times, I tend to get discouraged when I ask myself this question because I feel like my life does not always have a focus. My passions get blurred by passing interests, left on the leeside to follow some whim, only to be picked up again and held aloft by me at another time until the next cycle. I admire those of my friends not easily swayed by passing desires, who have said “I want a, b, and c” from the beginning and actually get a, b, and c. My life is a little less straight forward, a little more tangential, and a little less certain. My A, B and C have evolved and changed and solidified into different things with the changing stages of my life. In this way I can be glad I didn’t settle for my 16 year old A, B and C because by 27, they would and have changed drastically.

What is all this rambling about? Nothing really. Nothing more than a reminder to myself. I can’t be everything I want to be at the same time. I can’t blog about every interest I have at the same time. And no I am not missing out by not acting on each and every chance that comes my way. Calm down, Erikka. Let one thing evolve at a time. Though I may not know how long I have in this life, I can keep telling myself that nothing is forever - there is always time to change.

Who knew a virtual world would be one more way to help sharpen my focus? One more arena in which to ask myself life's pressing questions? Who knew...

Hi Ho, Hi Ho, It's Off to Work I Go.

One day life is orderly at work. My project spreadsheet shows me up-to-date on all my projects and their current status...sort of on a holding pattern. I even go so far as to ask for more work and this time, receive MORE than I can handle and have to turn some away. Life seems fine. I waste some time playing on the internet. Life is still orderly. I even go on vacation. Then

BHAM!

The spreadsheet is thrown out the window and I realize the time line on the screen, the time line in my mind, and the time line in REALITY are not the same and I gotta get goin'! It's always before this big meeting we have that I start to freak out knowing I am going to be held accountable for my projects. Not just accountable, but put on the spot in front of my team to explain any glitches, any details that need working out, etc and I guess I still start to sweat at the thought of all eyes on me when I don't really...want their eyes on me.
I know what I have to say...but I always still wonder, will it be good enough? Am I doing good enough?

And worst of all, the small things like daily emails and phone calls and demands on my time keep coming. The small things are like little gnats that hang around your face, right up in your eyes and nose and ears even, so you HAVE to get rid of them or they will just keep pestering you. Meanwhile, somewhere on my arm or leg there's a leech, aka a BIG project with HIGH priority, sucking slowly at my blood that should be getting the immediate attention but is not. Humph.

My best work and best concentration seem to come under pressure and tight deadlines. Call this a side affect of adult a.d.d. or a.d.d. or just flashbacks to college. But when I am too busy to think, too busy to goof off (or write blogs at work, which I still manage to do in 5 minutes or less, take that multi-taskers!), I actually don't mind what I'm doing.

In all seriousness, sometimes...I like my job. Those days feel good. :)


*disclaimer* we all know from reading DoOCe that blogging about work is a major internet no no. However, she said some things about her boss that may not have been...nice. I am not here to rant and rave about the people for whom I work or with whom I work. I like them. They are all smart, interesting and funny people who are passionate about their jobs. (lucky them) For me, to not talk about my struggles with my current job duties and my aspirations for my life and purpose is ignoring 8 hours of every day of my life. And this is my life. My blog. And even, my time. (I scoff at people who think just because they're "on the clock" they have to be automatons. my blog is my cigarette break, so THERE)

Full o' Funny

We all know tickets and/or written warnings are seriously NO FUN! However, did you know they could be fun and funny when administered to non-motor vehicles?

Well, they are! Here is an example -


I ride my bike (since it is now so easy a straight line path from JP to downtown) and need a place to Ulock it up. There are no poles small enough right in front of the building, so I cruised to the side and locked it near a small sign and bench sitting area, here:


Notice the out-of-place, yellow, 8 and 1/2 x 11 inch piece of paper on the handle bar. I too was confused upon seeing it. I got closer and learned more:



My innocent bike and I received a warning...


Before I even finished reading to the end to find out the penalty for my bike and I, (probably impending death) I had my camera phone out to document this heinous act. What harm is my bike doing being locked near this sitting area? I'm not blocking anyone from sitting. And if I'm not allowed to lock it up there, where is the appropriate place? Where is the bike rack? (hm...maybe I should actually ask this before I rant on in this vein only to look like a fool when they tell me where the extremely convenient rack is located. obviously NOT in plain view though)

This reminds me of a story I heard from my best girlfriend at college, Laurie.


Laurie and her cousing Maura (who is now my sister-in-law) were canoeing on a pond near her family's home in Connecticut. It was a quiet, sunny day and they were enjoying leisurely floating about the pond when the silence was suddenly pierced by the shriek of a bullhorn. They heard a motor coming closer behind them, turned around and heard, "Pull over the water craft." The "water police" had stopped them, for no apparent reason it seemed, but after a $50 fine for not having "the prescribed number of life vests on board to save the number of people on board the craft," they will never forget.

The Work Life Balance

In Massachusetts, the unemployment rate went up from 3,246,100 people in June to 3,285,100 people in July. I appreciate not being included in those numbers. I like health care. I like holidays off. I LOVE vacation. I like having a 9-5, no stress job. However, all this appreciation does not lead to elation nor to a feeling of accomplishment nor to more gratitude in the job I possess. How can I be such an ungrateful wench?

I am. And you know why? Liberal Arts College that's why. At my hippy, love everybody, pot smokin' college (St. Michael's College to be exact http://www.smcvt.edu/) I was taught that I should make the world a better place. For me, that meant non-profits, working in the community, helping real people. Not sitting in front of a computer for 8 hours a day, one of 40 people sitting in a cube farm, project managing expensive college textbooks. They taught me that at work I should be HAPPY and passionate.

This idea is not only toted by herbal smokin' liberals. Motivational speakers toot this horn too. Take this snippet from Don't Sweat the Small Stuff - AT WORK:

"...it's ok to be happy, patient, more relaxed and forgiving at work. It's to your advantage...You won't lose your edge or be 'walked on.' You'll feel more inspired, creative, and driven to make an even greater contribution than you do right now. You'll see solutions where others see problems. You will have increased energy, you'll be able to work in 'the eye of the storm,' and because you'll be so level headed, you'll be the one who is looked to when tough decisions need to be made. You will rise to the top."

I am not rising to the top. Instead I am sinking like a fat kid in a pool. Sinking in a sea of wishful thinking, longings to be elsewhere, and dreams of remembering what's it like to want to be better at what I am doing.

Personally, I could not be happier at this time in my life. Jason and I just moved into our new apartment in Jamaica Plain. We have the whole "domesticity thing" to experience together and a new place to explore. Every day I learn how to communicate better with him and love him more and more for it. I have yet to get sick of his company or to tire of talking with him. My family is well, I see them as much as I can and want to. My creativity is cresting - I've been painting, sewing, writing letters. I have some great friends and fun acquaintences.

Professionally, I'm going no where. The half hearted attempts I have made for more work were "corporate speaked" away by my boss, who also made a half hearted attempt to give me more work. I do not try to create new supplemental products, I do not try to redesign existing products without prompting. I often wonder, how long can meeting the status quo go on, both for me and for the company? It seems a disservice to me and to the position to not apply my talent and to waste their resources. All I can say to this is - I'm getting the job done and that does count for something.

Over the week-end I went on a much needed camping trip with Jason, my brother, his wife, and Jason's sister Angela up to Crawford Notch in NH. I explained these feelings to my brother and sister-in-law. My sister-in-law, ever the overly self motivated, go-getter type, suggested I seek out responsibilities or ways to do more that I would like to do. I thought about this as we went hiking, wondering if my slacker attitude was really keeping me unhappy. Finally I said to her, "One would have to care and be interested in their job to seek out ways to improve it. I do not have either of those feelings and can't muster up that motivation without them. An unhappy person does not go looking for more to do in an unhappy situation."

I take my job one day at a time. Perhaps because I am unhappy, I am a little too easy on myself, but if there are days I do nothing, I brush them off as "bad days." Because there are good days. Days where I make To Do Lists, check things off that list, and feel accomplished. There are days where I am engaged in a project I am working on, and thinking of how to improve or change or meet certain guidelines. Days of editing content, creating content; rare days I like my job.

A Walk Out of Work

From Smut to Smart

My walk to work is through a construction zone. The place is like a washed up hollywood starlette in constant need of plastic surgery. If the sidewalk is not being jack hammered away, or a building's siding not being ripped off, or the road being repaved it's a new roof, a new building frame, a crane digging a hole, or a mixer cementing an interior. This also leads to catcalling men lined up on cement girders while they eat lunch and "women watch." This is part of my walk to and from work.

Yesterday as I left work, construction men free as it was past 5 pm, I noticed something for the first time. A giant green plant amidst the dingy brick, the dusty road, and the construction zone array of materials left haphazardly, as though right in the middle of something (which again, they always are in the middle of something). The plant, in looks, is a cross between a sunflower and a banana plant with its big ol' leaves and stately, tallness. Maybe it appeared so green because the day was a dim, murky grey, but the plant is so alive and vivrant! A plant florishing in downtown Boston with no human aide. From whence did come the seed? And how did it manage to find the one crack in the pavement that would allow it to grow?

The picture to the left is a bit unclear, but shows the sturdy, thick stem emerging from a crack about 1.5 inches wide and about 5 inches long. Amazing. To witness this small miracle first thing from leaving work rejuvenated me. I stopped, heedless of the three men across the street, who watched me move the big leaves aside to take a picture. I wonder if there is more to come with this plant - a flower or seed pods of some kind.

As I left the plant and rounded the corner with a smile, I glanced to my left and saw this through an open door, a sight upon seeing I remembered seeing before -

I actually recall seeing more than just one girly poster on this wall, but I guess the owner is being a bit more modest these days, narrowing his tastes down to just this one. The door to this business of some kind is usually open and I sort of snort to myself whenever I see the men inside with these posters as their backdrop. Do they think of women walking by seeing them, seeing the posters? What are they thinking? Men love to look at women. They can be the most happily married, sexually satisfied man in the world, but they will still enjoy a peek or two at either pictures of women or women in daily life. Women do look at men, but it's a different looking than men do. Little observations like these have led me to finally admit the truth in the generalizements of my mother and her mother and her mother's mother - Women are from Venus and Men are from Mars.

The Work Paradox

With a snide remark, a friend turned my world upside down. We were chatting on the phone and he asked me something about my current attitude toward work. I began to answer, but he quickly interrupted me with the following comment – “So and so said you don’t do anything. There’s a rumor among everyone else that you’re the ‘person who doesn’t do anything.’” Inside, I felt my stomach clench, my mind freeze, and my anxiety rise. He even went on to challenge me to tell him what I am working on, and I defended myself…meekly and fumblingly since I was called out without warning. Because the real fear I faced with his statement was –do people know?

A little back story –

#1. The friend on the phone lives with one of my co-workers, “so and so” if you will. I actually set them up because one had to get out of a place and the other needed someone to move in by the same date. This connection is how there is a bit of credibility to his words. Plus, So and So is someone I often complained to about not liking my job and even with whom I discussed escape plans. To hear how my words and ideas got distorted from him to my other friend disturbs me. I won’t be talking so and so’s ear off again anytime soon.

#2. I dislike my job. Most people would call me crazy for not wanting to stay in my position. My job allows me flexibility of schedule, working from home, some days off, summer hours, casual office attire, finally a live-able wage, and the ability to leave the office at 5 pm and leave the work and stress behind me. However, I take no reward or satisfaction from the actual work of my job. I dread the thought of another day spent staring at my computer screen for 7.5 straight hours. The only real people I am guaranteed to talk with and see are my co-workers. Otherwise, authors usually exist as email addresses or online bios. I do not edit work often; but then again, we’re in between semesters, so in the Fall I will be slammed with work to proofread; I do not get to read manuscripts. I hire people. I maintain a budget. I make sure they get me the material on time and I put it into production in a timely manner. (and hopefully in the right format) Lots of paperwork. Lots of files to maintain. Lots of email correspondences to keep up. The work is not terrible, but it is not exciting and engaging to me either.

Here is a sample of a work day –

1. return'd phone messages to vendor
2. attended text cover design meeting
3. attempted to print out Guide pages, no printer working!!!!
4. Emailed Prod. about Guide paperwork
6. Worked out issue with text #2 tech files for editor
7. Sent art projects to contributor for marking out hers and getting student info.
8. Quick edit of eSurveys for text #3
9 email'd author 2 about creating online content for text #4
10 sent author 3 one last SG review
11 cut and paste review summary
12. Sent release form to five supplement authors for text #4
13. Fixed author 4’s contract shipment address.



How much time should the above activities take? This was one day’s work for me, a day where I was actually trying to do my job and not waste as much time. (and in my defense, I do feel the need to defend, the cut and paste review summary is not a quick activity. It involves taking each reviewer’s answers and putting them into one document.) I kept my personal email checking to a minimum and my internet time wasting almost null and void.

Regardless of whether or not the rumor is true, or to whom I am explaining myself, I have to face the fact that the image he described is precisely the one I am presenting. How many times have I said to someone “Oh, I should be working” or “Yeah I have work, but I’d rather do _______” or some other offhand comment of laissez faire-ness about my job? A few times and comments like those are seen as stress relievers and sarcastic references to how hard someone is actually working. In retrospect, made as often as I have made them, they are seen as the words of a lazy, do nothing.

More important than defending myself here is examining why I feel the need to defend myself. The answer is – I am not doing as much as I could be doing. I intersperse “my work” with checking my personal email, going to Facebook, MySpace, or any number of blogs that I check on a regular basis. I could be doing more. I want to care about this job enough to make me ask for more work. BUT I DON’T!!! I want to do the minimum. I only want to wear 15 pieces of flair, not 36!!! I am coasting by and this is so not me! Every day I feel myself get a little sadder at the person I am becoming at work. And I feel more and more discouraged that I will not move on from here on my terms - leaving a good, possible reference in my wake. (there will probably be a big F on my file. F for FIRED)

His comment comes with ironic timing. Within the last two weeks or so, I have been trying to do my job. This does not mean I do not email, surf the net, or spend time writing blogs, but it does mean I keep a conscious watch on the time I spend doing so to make sure I get the boxes all checked off on my TO DO list I make every evening. My effort is to sustain myself, my position, and hopefully my morale until I find the next step in my career path or it is made known to me which way to go. Because I am losing sight of where to turn. What to try. Who I am. And what I wanted to be when I grew up.