Do you ever feel like you're talking, and no one is listening? Or worse, everyone else is ALWAYS talking, and you're ALWAYS listening?
The way I see it, there are two kinds of people in this world: talkers and listeners. Both can sometimes do either, but they have a predilection for one of the two. I consider myself to have a great listening ability, but I am, by nature, a talker. As great as I can listen, I have and give excellent advice because I have an opinion about everything. How executives run businesses - have an opinion about it. What people actually wear and what they should wear - have an opinion about it. Which apples go better in an apple pie - have an opinion about it. Who people should and should not date and why - opinion. I'm Polish, what do you want from me? Similarly (although less violently) to my orca comrade in Seaworld (too soon? whatever. I'm still using the analogy), if, for whatever reason, I'm forced against my will from my natural predisposition into one that doesn't exactly suit me, I have a reaction. A lashing out, so to speak. To put it mildly, I get frustrated. And when I get frustrated, I shut down and proceed to harbor my frustration within myself, steaming and fuming until provoked. At which point, all hell breaks loose. Thank God I'M not in a tank surrounded by sticky-fingered children pointing at me, banging on the glass of my faux habitat creating this grating, incessant banging sound while I'm trying to nap. Cause I would have killed the next person who approached me, too. It's like the end of Waiting actually. You know, when the kid from Freaks and Geeks hasn't uttered a word ALL DAY cause everyone else around him is so self-absorbed and verbose? Anytime he has a thought or they give him a chance to speak, someone else butts in with his or her opinion and shuts the poor kid up before he can even articulate a sound. Then, at the end of the day he's had it. And he completely explodes in this magnificent display of cathartic logorrhea. That's precisely what happens to me if I've been shut up too long.
That being said, I feel like I've been pushed into the role of listener entirely too much lately. So much so that by the time whomever I'm talking to gives me a chance to speak, I'm so livid with anger, I limit my response soas not to say something that could get me fired or into trouble. Or I'm just so exhausted from listening that I don't care to exert the physical effort it would entail to speak. Too tired to speak? Me? Wow. Just this afternoon I had literally back-to-back phone calls in which the person on the other end was reluctant to let me speak. The first caller kept reiterating his confusion non-stop, leaving me to think, dude, if you'd shut up for like two seconds, I could clarify and you wouldn't have to waste my time or bore me any further with your ignorant virulence. You know what I just thought of? There's no male equivalent to bitch. Like, you're not going to say that the man was bitchy. So what do you say? Bastardly? That makes me feel pretentious. Eh, eff it. I'm using it. He was bastardly. Though, I kinda take a personal offense to that. Oh well. I'm still using it. Moving on. Second phone call. Woman could not understand the difference between the ongoing and completed operations portion of the endorsement we were discussing. I said I had a problem with the ongoing operations portion due to the language. She proceeds to call my attention to the completed operations portion that does not contain the language and provides the appropriate coverage. But not only does she call my attention to it, but she gives me a lengthy description. I am finally able to interject and say, yes, that's fine. I'm talking about ongoing operations. She again calls my attention to completed operations and discusses it further. Like, lady, save us both some time, let me explain cause you're too stupid to know the difference in coverage between ongoing and completed operations, and let me get off the damn phone cause I DON'T WANT TO TALK TO YOU (see previous post re: my abhorrence of human contact).
Furthermore, I just feel like on the day-to-day, I'm asked questions or inquiries are made regarding what's going on in my life, and when I have a legitimate answer or story, the person I'm talking to puts an imaginary stopper in my mouth mid-sentence to interject about their day or their opinion or what's going on in their life. Or an inquiry is never even made. It's like, omg this is going on in my life, listen to me. Me me me. Um, I'm an only child. And while I do care about you and what's going on in your life because you're my friend or what-have-you, I'm also an only child. And I care about me and what's going on in my life. And you should, too. Or what's worse is if I have something truly exciting and I'm like all amped to talk about it, and the person I'm talking to is completely unphased. Hence the lack of listening. There is nothing worse for me that halted excitement. It's like the supreme let down. Cause then you don't even care about it anymore. It's lost its lustre. It's like an engagement ring after the wedding's been postponed or called off. And you're just left with this meaningless lump of previously wondrous joy that's dull and matte. And who likes matte? No one voluntarily chooses matte. No one goes to the store and is like, I would LOVE that matte paint for my room. Or omg I'm looking for this FABULOUS matte lipstick to make my lips look caked. Yes, please. Bring it on.
Ugh, anyway, I wish I had a way of tying this in to my Blog theme, but I don't. I just needed an outlet, and the blog isn't going to interrupt me or talk incessantly, inhibiting me from getting a word in edgewise. Unless, of course, there's a technological malfunction and windows decides to temporarily stop functioning for no apparent reason. At which point, yes, there will be an interruption. And I will be forced to grab someone and pull them into my tank and tear them limb from limb (exaggeration).
Friday, February 26, 2010
Friday, February 12, 2010
2010 Blog - Post Five
Pay no attention to the time stamp on this blog. I am in NO WAY blogging at work . . .
I've had it this week, so please bear with my emotional catharsis in the form of a blog post. That and if I have to look at/deny one more insurance certificate this week, I may spontaneously combust BTVS-style.
When did human default mode switch to virulent? I'm not even talking when did it transition from 1950s Pleasantville-style. I'm talking about how people just seemed to be overall more pleasant, polite, curteous back in the day. Not even nice, just curteous. I don't even think people know what curteous even means anymore. I'll get to my point about this in a minute, but first I'll explain the fact that I've sort of watched myself deteriorate over the past like eight months, and it's come to a head. How did I get here? I've become this monstrous atrocity, ready to lash out at even the slightest provocation. I referred to myself as the Jabberwocky today. WTF?! That's not me! I'm not some cloven-footed, winged, snarling pierced-eyed horror demon of the acid-tripped imagination. Not really. But that is the result of my metamorphosis. I've racked and racked my brain to try and ascertain what leads me to become this intolerant heinous monster, and I think I have some form of answer: people verbally fight with me 9 hours a day. From the moment I open my Outlook in the morning to the moment I finally "x" out of it at night, the people I communicate with as I perform my job constantly argue with me. They disagree, they outright refuse to provide me with what I'm requesting, and they're stalwart about it. They tell me no like a mom tells a child regarding ice cream before dinner. The kind of no that you don't bother to ask "why" because it's merely "because I said so," and that is all. Nothing further. No follow-up necessary. Give up now.
But, sadly, I can't "give up now." I have to reply and fight back. I have to subject myself to further insult and injury. The dreaded, "I understand what you're requesting, but we're not giving it to you," reply. "But . . . that's not good enough?" I reply outloud to no one in particular, in my small, defeated, pathetic on-the-verge-of-tears voice. And I'm not even bringing up when they question my authority ("Have you ok'd this with your Risk Management department? I really think you should bring it to them." --> I AM IN RISK MANAGEMENT!!! You think I'm making this shit up?!), scapegoat me ("You never told us there was an issue." Um, I sent you an email back in October. "We never got it." Oh . . . convenient.), tell me to review it again because there's nothing wrong with it ("This is what the company provides. Have your Risk Manager look at it again." Um, we know. We deal with these issues every day. We've reviewed it repeatedly. And we still say no . . .), blame me for how the team handled the issue in the past ("We've never had this issue before" or "This was accepted this way on a previous project" Well, the person who handled this prior dropped the ball cause you should have had an issue before and it should not have been accepted. But I'm on this project NOW and I'm NOT accepting it), the list goes on.
That being said, why wouldn't I constantly be on the defense at all times? If, for one millisecond, I'm not hunched over, knees slightly bent, head erect, eyes darting to and fro, someone may come up from behind me and knock me flat on my ass, resulting in SEVERE damage to my tailbone. And that's NOT fun. But it's becoming ridiculous. I'm suited up at ALL times. Like, not just when I need to be. And it's wreaking havoc on me. Resulting in aforementioned Jabberwocky. Jabberwocky who has taken up a necessity for daily afternoon M&M fixes from the vending machine. And here lies my other issue. SO I had just gotten to a wonderful happy place where instead of craving food or alcohol when I got stressed out, I'd want to go to the gym. I'd be like, OMG today sucked. I need to get on the elliptical. It was marvelous. I've always wanted to be one of "those" people. And I was. And it was so awesome. But now, because my schedule has been all switched up because of the holidays and school, the stress has gotten the better of me in the past couple weeks. I no longer crave the elliptical. I now find solace in pj bottoms, mindless television, and chocolate. The eternal chocolate. Damn Spaniards. And it's frustrating me. Where's that damn girl who craved the elliptical instead? Oh, that's right, the Jabberwocky kidnapped her and she fell into the rabbit hole.
I have, however, devised a plan. Not so much for how to destroy the Jabberwocky (it's not as easy as Alice overcoming her unwarranted imaginary fear. This is VERY real.), but for saving the girl on the elliptical. So I've concluded that part of the reason I had gotten so disciplined and focused in the fall was because I had purpose. I was in training for something tangible. I had a deadline. Now, wtf do I have besides free reign and way too much stress that not even Willy Wonka could cure (please, don't bring up oompa loompas. In my world, the chocolate factory is an oompa loompa-free zone). Enter Lent. I know I know, but please, don't judge. So Tuesday is Fat Tuesday, which means Wednesday is Ash Wednesday and the start of the Lenten season. Now, while yes, I am not a practicing Catholic. I even got out of Church at Christmas this past year. However, Lent is one of those crazy ideas those Catholics put forth that always kinda resonated with me. I have no idea why. But, so much so, I still refuse to eat meat on Fridays during it. And I still either try to give something up or do something good. So this year, in tune with the season of sacrifice and betterment, I will use that sentiment as a benchmark for getting back into the swing of things. The way I see it, as I work toward the betterment of myself, I, in turn, in theory, achieve betterment with others. So maybe the key to slaying the Jabberwocky actually lies in freeing the elliptical girl. Who knows? Let's get elliptical girl out of the rabbit hole first . . .
I've had it this week, so please bear with my emotional catharsis in the form of a blog post. That and if I have to look at/deny one more insurance certificate this week, I may spontaneously combust BTVS-style.
When did human default mode switch to virulent? I'm not even talking when did it transition from 1950s Pleasantville-style. I'm talking about how people just seemed to be overall more pleasant, polite, curteous back in the day. Not even nice, just curteous. I don't even think people know what curteous even means anymore. I'll get to my point about this in a minute, but first I'll explain the fact that I've sort of watched myself deteriorate over the past like eight months, and it's come to a head. How did I get here? I've become this monstrous atrocity, ready to lash out at even the slightest provocation. I referred to myself as the Jabberwocky today. WTF?! That's not me! I'm not some cloven-footed, winged, snarling pierced-eyed horror demon of the acid-tripped imagination. Not really. But that is the result of my metamorphosis. I've racked and racked my brain to try and ascertain what leads me to become this intolerant heinous monster, and I think I have some form of answer: people verbally fight with me 9 hours a day. From the moment I open my Outlook in the morning to the moment I finally "x" out of it at night, the people I communicate with as I perform my job constantly argue with me. They disagree, they outright refuse to provide me with what I'm requesting, and they're stalwart about it. They tell me no like a mom tells a child regarding ice cream before dinner. The kind of no that you don't bother to ask "why" because it's merely "because I said so," and that is all. Nothing further. No follow-up necessary. Give up now.
But, sadly, I can't "give up now." I have to reply and fight back. I have to subject myself to further insult and injury. The dreaded, "I understand what you're requesting, but we're not giving it to you," reply. "But . . . that's not good enough?" I reply outloud to no one in particular, in my small, defeated, pathetic on-the-verge-of-tears voice. And I'm not even bringing up when they question my authority ("Have you ok'd this with your Risk Management department? I really think you should bring it to them." --> I AM IN RISK MANAGEMENT!!! You think I'm making this shit up?!), scapegoat me ("You never told us there was an issue." Um, I sent you an email back in October. "We never got it." Oh . . . convenient.), tell me to review it again because there's nothing wrong with it ("This is what the company provides. Have your Risk Manager look at it again." Um, we know. We deal with these issues every day. We've reviewed it repeatedly. And we still say no . . .), blame me for how the team handled the issue in the past ("We've never had this issue before" or "This was accepted this way on a previous project" Well, the person who handled this prior dropped the ball cause you should have had an issue before and it should not have been accepted. But I'm on this project NOW and I'm NOT accepting it), the list goes on.
That being said, why wouldn't I constantly be on the defense at all times? If, for one millisecond, I'm not hunched over, knees slightly bent, head erect, eyes darting to and fro, someone may come up from behind me and knock me flat on my ass, resulting in SEVERE damage to my tailbone. And that's NOT fun. But it's becoming ridiculous. I'm suited up at ALL times. Like, not just when I need to be. And it's wreaking havoc on me. Resulting in aforementioned Jabberwocky. Jabberwocky who has taken up a necessity for daily afternoon M&M fixes from the vending machine. And here lies my other issue. SO I had just gotten to a wonderful happy place where instead of craving food or alcohol when I got stressed out, I'd want to go to the gym. I'd be like, OMG today sucked. I need to get on the elliptical. It was marvelous. I've always wanted to be one of "those" people. And I was. And it was so awesome. But now, because my schedule has been all switched up because of the holidays and school, the stress has gotten the better of me in the past couple weeks. I no longer crave the elliptical. I now find solace in pj bottoms, mindless television, and chocolate. The eternal chocolate. Damn Spaniards. And it's frustrating me. Where's that damn girl who craved the elliptical instead? Oh, that's right, the Jabberwocky kidnapped her and she fell into the rabbit hole.
I have, however, devised a plan. Not so much for how to destroy the Jabberwocky (it's not as easy as Alice overcoming her unwarranted imaginary fear. This is VERY real.), but for saving the girl on the elliptical. So I've concluded that part of the reason I had gotten so disciplined and focused in the fall was because I had purpose. I was in training for something tangible. I had a deadline. Now, wtf do I have besides free reign and way too much stress that not even Willy Wonka could cure (please, don't bring up oompa loompas. In my world, the chocolate factory is an oompa loompa-free zone). Enter Lent. I know I know, but please, don't judge. So Tuesday is Fat Tuesday, which means Wednesday is Ash Wednesday and the start of the Lenten season. Now, while yes, I am not a practicing Catholic. I even got out of Church at Christmas this past year. However, Lent is one of those crazy ideas those Catholics put forth that always kinda resonated with me. I have no idea why. But, so much so, I still refuse to eat meat on Fridays during it. And I still either try to give something up or do something good. So this year, in tune with the season of sacrifice and betterment, I will use that sentiment as a benchmark for getting back into the swing of things. The way I see it, as I work toward the betterment of myself, I, in turn, in theory, achieve betterment with others. So maybe the key to slaying the Jabberwocky actually lies in freeing the elliptical girl. Who knows? Let's get elliptical girl out of the rabbit hole first . . .
Tuesday, February 9, 2010
2010 Blog - Post Four
Ok so a few people have given me shit for not updating on the reg, and for that I apologize. Please don't stop reading me! I have precious few followers as it is! The truth of the matter is, I need more hours in the day. This week is week four of classes, and I now know why people elect not to go back to school. It's bloody hard, man! I give people in legit school, getting masters degrees or going to law school at night, such props for what they do. And working mothers who do it . . . just insane. I mean, comparatively speaking, my school isn't THAT arduous or time consuming. I'm enrolled in two classes at a time, each of which meets only once a week. The homework is, for the most part, little and limited. But it still blows my mind. I mean, for me, I have to work 9 hour days. Then, on Mon., Wed., and Fri., I go to the gym after work and have to do whatever errands I may need to do or whatever chores around the house need to get done. Tues. and Thurs. post work, I go to class from 6-9. Somewhere among all that, I have to fit in whatever assignments I may have. Which, yes, may sound easy seeing as how I have an entire weekend to myself. HOWEVER, the issue arises when I have weekend plans. Things going on. OR even spending the weekend away. Then I have to cram everything into the nooks and crannies of free time I may have whenever. It's mind boggling to me. AND I don't even have kids! Can you imagine having kids and juggling work, school, soccer practices, tennis lessons, cooking dinners, grocery shopping, doing laundry, maintaining the household, homework?! Oy.
That being said, I am having SO MUCH FUN in my classes!!! Aside from the fact that I completely SUCK at graphic design, I'm trying. I completed my first project for that class last night - four hours and multiple cross references on the instructional DVD later. Mind you, the finished product is my third concept, second attempt (first attempt was Wed. when I spent 3 hours trying out the program on my own personal computer... haha!). But I guess that's how it is in design anyway: Brainstorming. Trial and error. Revisions. New territory for me. I'm used to revising my written work as I go along. But this was literally concept, concept, execution, scrap, concept, execution. It is by no means a work of art, but I did it. I've accomplished a work of graphic design! And my other class is just awesome. Normal people would consider "Business of Publishing" boring. I, on the other hand, am sponging it up. I completely overstudied for my first quiz last week. Got the trick bonus question correct. Am legit getting the info. Have the answers to those reinforcing example questions teachers pose during lectures. And I just want to learn more. I never really liked school before. I mean, I had those few classes that I enjoyed. But never liked school as a whole. Now, it's this whole new thing. I truly truly love it.
In other news, I added a bit to my "wedding dress fund." AND after February's payment, my credit card is down to $348!!! I can hardly believe that balance. I've decided that once I pay off the cards, I will make my doctor's appointments, cause then I will have the extra money to work with, and no more excuses. Additionally, I've decided to hold off on preparing for the personal training exam until after I finish the publishing certificate, so I can focus on each individually. My time frame then is: finish publishing certificate in August, start studying for personal training in September, study until hands-on seminar March 2011, take exam. Seems completely doable. Now to determine the motivator for early bedtime . . . Suggestions???
That being said, I am having SO MUCH FUN in my classes!!! Aside from the fact that I completely SUCK at graphic design, I'm trying. I completed my first project for that class last night - four hours and multiple cross references on the instructional DVD later. Mind you, the finished product is my third concept, second attempt (first attempt was Wed. when I spent 3 hours trying out the program on my own personal computer... haha!). But I guess that's how it is in design anyway: Brainstorming. Trial and error. Revisions. New territory for me. I'm used to revising my written work as I go along. But this was literally concept, concept, execution, scrap, concept, execution. It is by no means a work of art, but I did it. I've accomplished a work of graphic design! And my other class is just awesome. Normal people would consider "Business of Publishing" boring. I, on the other hand, am sponging it up. I completely overstudied for my first quiz last week. Got the trick bonus question correct. Am legit getting the info. Have the answers to those reinforcing example questions teachers pose during lectures. And I just want to learn more. I never really liked school before. I mean, I had those few classes that I enjoyed. But never liked school as a whole. Now, it's this whole new thing. I truly truly love it.
In other news, I added a bit to my "wedding dress fund." AND after February's payment, my credit card is down to $348!!! I can hardly believe that balance. I've decided that once I pay off the cards, I will make my doctor's appointments, cause then I will have the extra money to work with, and no more excuses. Additionally, I've decided to hold off on preparing for the personal training exam until after I finish the publishing certificate, so I can focus on each individually. My time frame then is: finish publishing certificate in August, start studying for personal training in September, study until hands-on seminar March 2011, take exam. Seems completely doable. Now to determine the motivator for early bedtime . . . Suggestions???
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