Let’s see.

The fretting began around 6:00 PM on Thursday. Now, before I get into the rest of this entry, I must emphasize that my anxiety levels IN GENERAL have been at a lifetime low since I got my started getting my head together about a year ago. However, there are certain things that just Bring the Fret, and this particular work situation was/is one of them.

Basically, the story was that we need Signed Documents from four Important People in hand by 9:00 AM on Monday. Documents that, as of Friday, were still not in final form. My boss was understandably concerned, and also tired, since you know, he was the one who wrote the actual things. I am merely She Who Handles Logistics.

Friday morning began with computer malfunctions, schedules changes for Important People, and predictions of a snow-pocalypse. The day was a long game of Hurry Up and Wait, punctuated with intense periods of carefully choreographing how to get the Documents in the hands of Important People and get scanned copies of the Signed Documents back to us.

Let’s just say I went without lunch, made very good friends with some random guy at a company in California (and I have no idea what his title is. He definitely was not just some random admin. I could have been harassing someone Important for all I know.)

Anyway, we had 2 Signed Documents back, and were expecting the 3rd and I was pretty proud of myself for choreographing it. The whole thing was kind of awesome, in a pathetic way. nd then the document we were expecting back late Friday never came. Enter Plan B. And Plan C.

And it turns out all the back-up Plans were for naught, because Important Person does not plan on returning the signed pages today. It must be nice to be that important. If the overtime I put in waiting for documents does not get approved I am going to flip out. Especially since I went on a Fret induced shopping trip this weekend.

The weekend was also way too short, and I didn’t go to the gym, and I don’t care about the Super Bowl and the Snow-pocalypse never came and I canceled a Saturday morning appointment for nothing.

Arg…Last week went by fairly quickly, and I’m afraid this week will be the opposite.

I’ll share all the exciting details about that which brought The Fret on Monday. Because by then it will likely be a case of “all’s well that ends well” (I hope).

For now, I will just say:

…that even though I was at work until 8:00 PM on Friday night, waiting for Important Documents that didn’t show up…

…and even though I checked my work email about 100x today…

…and even though I got woken up by a work related phone call at an absurdly early hour…

…and even though, the past few weeks (really, since the holidays) work has been filled with crankiness…

This situation has made me once again absurdly grateful that it is taking place at my Current Job and not The-Job-That-Wasn’t.

Were the same situation playing out at The-Job-That-Wasn’t, well, first of all, I wouldn’t know how to handle it, because I wouldn’t have been given any information in the first place – I would have been expected to just do it all myself. But if this was happening at The-Job-That-Wasn’t, I wouldn’t have been able to eat or sleep this weekend, and my Former-Important-Boss definitely would NOT have been able to see any humor in the situation (because seriously? It’s Pieces of Paper that have to be signed by Important People. And we’re driving ourselves CRAZY over it. I mean, obviously there are reasons why this has to be done, but it’s not like life or death).

Instead, after being woken up at an absurdly early hour, I had coffee and did some reading. And checked my email. And then I went out for lunch and shopping and singing in my car. And tonight I broke out the Buffy DVDs (shut up) and also talked to Keithers. And yes, I checked my email about 100 times.

But I’m not afraid to walk into work on Monday morning and I won’t have to spend half the day with my head down, hiding my tears or terrified facial expressions. (Former-Important-Boss made me cry several times a week and towards the end all the stress and worry and horribleness had just built up and built up and it didn’t take much to set me off anyway.)

So although it seems strange to find gratitude in a ridiculous work situation, it’s there. Because I am capable of getting Important Documents signed, I’m having a decent weekend, and my boss isn’t going to make me cry on Monday morning.

And somehow, that never gets old.

I went to a local meeting of Campaign for Liberty on Sunday, and it was quite good. Lots of well-thought out, long term ideas. The problem, of course, is keeping myself motivated to stay involved. I am generally not a joiner. Well, that’s not entirely true. I love being a part of things, being part of a team/community, etc (Jean-Jacques Rousseau eat your heart out) but I am rarely capable of actually becomming a part of things. This is what happens when you move seven times in as many years.

I overslept this morning. My cell phone (alarm clock) shut itself off in the middle of the night. I am overdue for a new phone, but I’ve been reluctant to give this one up. It is the only phone I’ve ever had that doesn’t suck. Since every piece of electronic equipment I touch tends to break, I don’t really want to buy a fancy phone. I don’t even have  QWERTY keypad.

Anyway, now I’m here, wearing a t-shirt (it was too hot for the sweater I put on) with a really, really scratchy sweater-jacket thing that I keep putting on and taking off. I’m browsing online for clothes I REALLY do not need. But I am a total sucker when stores put up sample outfits and then do “get this look” because I am basically incapable of putting together good outfits myself. So GAP has one now, and really Gap? $54.95 for this shirt? That’s ridiculous. But I still want the outfit. If I still had a could find my long-lost GAP credit card, I would buy it in a second. Oh and now I’m looking at Banana Republic clothes, even though I have never bought anything from that store in my life, but now I AM TEMPTED by overpriced cardigans.

These would just be more clothes I don’t need/clothes I am buying for a job/life I don’t have yet. With my luck, they will all be lost in a flood or housefire or something.

I found another good job to apply for, with SUPER AWESOME pay, that I am just barely qualified for, but the organizations website has been down and so I can’t investigate for useful information (which I am really good at. I am a good researcher. Hire me as a research associate, please). And then there’s this other job that pays pennies, but could be okay, and I really should be writing cover letters instead of, you know, daydreaming about buying outfits from Banana Republic.

I hate the Tuesday-Wednesdy part of the week. It can’t be Thursday soon enough.

In honor (or perhaps dishonor) of Salinger, I am posting an essay I wrote a number of years ago. 2004 to be exact. It’s a bit lengthy for a blog post, so it’s behind the cut. Yikes it is PAINFUL to read things you wrote 6 years ago, and actually SUBMITTED for a grade.

Read the rest of this entry »

Brent, Joe, and I went to Trivia Night locally last night and I had a ridiculous amount of fun. First, I laughed more in one night than I have in a month. There was competition for lamest confession and discussion of 90s music. Then Trivia began. We scored perfectly the first two rounds. And then we bombed the third round (stupid questions such as “Which slipper did Cinderella lose; her left or right?” and questions-we-should-have-gotten-right-but-second-guessed) and didn’t do much better on the fourth. We were resigned to losing, and then the final bonus round was geography (blue category!), so we bet the max, and we won.

From my description you can see that trivia is Very Important and that this victory made me (well, us) way happier than it rightly should have. In the car ride home we were still discussing it, and future team strategy, and I was like “Guys, you do realize that we’re the only ones there to tonight who are STILL DISCUSSING THIS.”

But I wouldn’t have it any other way. It feels good to be a team again (Joe and Brent were on academic decathlon with me in high school) and to make ridiculous references throughout the game that no one else would get but us.

I didn’t fall asleep until around 2am, for the second night in a row. I am definitely feeling that this morning and the coffee is doing little to dull it. I have ice cream stashed in the freezer here, and I’m tempted to break it out. Work continues to be filled with crankiness all around.

But I am in a better mood than I’ve been in all week – maybe even all month. Getting rejected from the Libertarian Fellowship certainly left me in a funk and I’ve also hit the wall in terms of available things to apply for in DC. It’s frustrating, because I know I’d be perfect for several of the think tank positions I’ve applied for – there are just other people who would be even more perfect, and they’re probably already in the DC area. I’m that at the point yet where I could realistically (or would even want to) just quit my job, move to DC, and hope for the best with the job search and the powerlessness has left me irritable.

But being around two of my favorite people on the planet, who understand me better than anyone in the world, has done wonders for my spirits. At least for today. And allegedly, that’s the only one that should matter.

And yay, Friday! I may actually be social this weekend (an acquintences birthday tomorrow evening) and then, what the hell it is already February. If I start talking about how time is flying, and how I’m going to be, omg, 27 in May, I’ll just ruin my good mood, so I’m going to stop, and go do something productive.

Hm, I’ve blogged about the SOTU many times.

It took me two hours to get to work this morning due to the snow and people not knowing how to drive.

I think I have applied for every job in DC that I am possibly interested in, minus the government jobs, which just require an insane amount of time per application. Is it hypocritical for a libertarian to work for the federal governemnt? Possibly yes, but if I want to get to DC it may be in my self interest.

Speaking of libertarian idea(l)s, we were discussing the SOTU on The Libertarian Message Board last night. There was of course nothing surprising or new about Obama’s speech. He does not make me rageful in the ways that GWB did, but the alleged Savior of the left sure has been pretty useless. The Dems are such pussies. Anyway, my idea was I want someone to run for president on the campaign of Doing Nothing. No initiatives, no new government programs, no changes, NOTHING. Just keep the status quo and grind government action to a halt.

Of course, the logistics of the government “grinding to a halt” are a bit more complicated (but just a bit, I swear), but the theory behind stalemate is solid. People on both sides complain that lack of bi-partisanship makes it impossible to get anything done, but I’m fine with the two parties bickering their way into inaction. People on both sides also complain when their party isn’t in power in either Congress or the Presidency about the other party having an unchecked mandate. (The mandate, with which, the Dems have still been unable (unwilling) to put together a healthcare bill)

So I say we elect a bunch of underachievers with no ambition of achieving greatness. That’s where we also get in trouble. The idea that the government can give us all these wonderful things. Not only does it set you up for disappointment (which I think the Obama campaign did, for a lot of people) it makes you forget that the government shouldn’t be providing these things in the first place.  (A government big enough to give you anything, is big enough to take everything away.

I was up way too late last night, and then there was the commute from hell and I am supposed to actually be social tonight but I’m half hoping we have to postpone due to weather. Suburbia is killing my motivation.

Today has gone by quickly. The weather is somewhat dreadful (lots of rain and the wind last night was terrifying) but I don’t find it particularly dreary. What I find dreary is people moaning about the gloomy weather and how depressing it is.  Isn’t it more depressing when the weather is nice and you’re stuck inside? Actually, as an introvert I find nice weather annoying. Because then there’s all this pressure to “go out and enjoy the nice weather.” This was actually do-able when I lived in the city, because walking around Astoria was one of my favorite things to do, but now it’s just like, pressure to go drive up to local park and go for a hike. Maybe “agrophobic” would be more accuarte than “introvert.”

I am only about 10% kidding here. Maybe 15%. I don’t like the outdoors. I am not an outdoorsy person. I like concrete and steel and darting across the street against the light.

I cannot sit still and concentrate on anything. I have to be multi-tasking to get anything done. All my papers in college got done with 3 AIM windows open and probably a couple of websites for good measure.  It takes me forever to write a blog entry because I keep checking my email or going back to the drawing I was making while on hold before.  Same deal with cover letters. I find it absolutely cringeworthy to pound out paragraphs on how wonderful and uniquely qualified I am and how it applies to this particular organization, so I can only stand to write a few sentences at a time, and then I have to minimize the window because it’s just icky.

This entry has been brought to you by the newly created ‘Neurotic Jew’ tag.

Also, lately, in the moments when I’m trying to fall asleep, I find my brain running over incredibly embarassing things I’ve done over the years, including the things that I didn’t have enough sense to be embarrased about then (read: Middle School) but were horrible and I can’t believe I dressed/talked/acted like that. I have no idea why I’m thinking about these things, but they have just drifted out of my memory to torture me. Memory lane indeed.

It is already almost February and I have accomplished exactly one of my January goals. I really need to join a gym and go to the dentist. And kick my own ass.

I’m running on too much caffeine and not enough sleep, for no good reason. I could join the Facebook group “I’m Always Tired Because I Stay Up Too Late for No Reason.” I click mindlessly around the internet and have been known to hit “reload” on my email, even at 1:30 in the morning.

I drink a cup of coffee, and then pick up another on my way to a therapy appointment, even though that’s all I have to do today. Half of a large iced coffee remains on the table next to me. My hands are a little shaky from too much caffeine and not enough to eat. Pause to eat half a sandwich. Better now.

My neck and shoulders are cramped and sore from too many hours hunched over at a desk or laptop. I am grateful for the relief of the weekend (I spent nine hours on Friday formatting contracts) but impatient with the way it interrupts the job search – there are no new job postings on the weekend.

My therapist gently bridged the subject that eventually, I’m going to have to date again. I brushed that off, saying I’m not interested in dating now, and what’s the point of it, given that I’m trying to move to DC sooner rather than later.

His point, of course, was that I’m not going to meet any boys spending my time as I’ve been spending it. Abstractly, he’s right. Day to day, I’m not interested in doing that, not now. My desire to go on polite dates is in the range of zero to negative 10.

I have an application to craft, for THE organization I want to work for. The chances of me getting so much as an email rejection are practically non-existent. But, as with every application I submit, even to the less than perfect jobs, I can’t help the wishful thinking. I can’t help but start to do the mental financial planning on how I would survive in DC on about half of what I’m making right now.

So it’s been a really long time since I’ve been on a date (or even done some making out. There is a definite lack of making out in my life) and I don’t see that changing in the near future. And I’ve only been at the search for a career change for a few weeks, really. It’s far too early to get frustrated because I haven’t submitted enough applications to be a contender in the number games.

Besides, all my personal experience shows that job offers, like boys you want to make out with, come along when you are least expecting it, when you’re at the rock bottom of frustrations and shattered expectations, and when you can’t picture how things are ever going to go right.

That’s when you get the phone call. That’s when you realize he’s deliberately sitting closer to you than he needs to.

The thematic title is blatantly stolen from Charlotte, who is awesome and even responds to my whiny emails.

In the past week I have started several posts bemoaning my laziness but I never finished them. A parable. Sort of. Like that episode of the West Wing, when Donna whines to Josh about the budget surplus not meaning a tax refund, because Democrats know how to spend your money better than you do, and then she refuses to give him change from buying lunch, because she knows how to spend the change better than he does. Or something. Clearly my West Wing obsession is out of control. But I have nothing better to do in suburbia. I could temper the obsession by starting to watch Buffy the Vampire Slayer, which I’ve seen bits and pieces of over the years, but never chronologically.

Or I could, you know, read a book. I recently read “Reproduction is the Flaw of Love” (or something like that. And I don’t remember the author, but I’m not going to google that at work.) The book itself was ok, but the premise made me so antsy that I had to skip to the end before I could concentrate on the middle. I do this sometimes.

A bunch of new, interesting positions (for which I am highly qualified) came up on today’s job search.  One is at Much-Coveted-Organization. They no doubt recieve thousands of resumes for every job posting. On some level, I feel that if I don’t get my application in seconds after the posting goes live, I’m screwed. But then maybe waiting a few days, until the announcement “cools down” so to speak is a viable strategy, given that it’s going to take me at least until tomorrow afternoon to put together an application, properly. And no one reads mail on Friday. So maybe it should wait until Monday. These are the things I’ve been thinking about lately. You’ll forgive me for not posting, right?  You should thank me for not posting them, actually. 

Oh and my resume has an NJ address and I’m applying for jobs in DC, and it has occured to me that maybe I should use a local address (of one of my friends) but won’t that just make things more complicated? I’m still at my current job, in NJ. And I’d need a little notice for an interview. Sigh. I fear that I may end of staying here until I go more insane than I am already going, and then quitting my job (which will no doubt be a bad move. I have never quit a job before. Well that’s not true. I worked for a headhunter for 2.5 weeks.) and moving to DC and sleeping on Keith’s couch forever, and I won’t find a job and I’ll run through all my savings and it will be another failed experiment and I will have to go back to answering phones, and I will do that for the rest of my life.

I enjoy writing long, run-on sentences with fatalistic predictions.

Oh, and I just got an email informing me that my car is being recalled. Awesome!

My pre-graduate school job was a (very) basic admin position. Technically, I was the receptionist, but as a reward for being the most well-read receptionist in NYC, I was given loads of extra responsibilities. And with this, of course, came no rewards and a fair share of ridiculousity. Whenever Smarmy (as I secretly called the department head) would make an unfair request or ridiculous demand, I would boil with anger. Because it wasn’t fair.

Of course, even at my most rageful moments, I recognized that I had it pretty good. But bitching about your boss is practically a requirement, especially of being a young 20-something in NYC. So anyway, I definitely did more than my fair share of complaining to my co-workers, all of whom were friends and who were happy to have a drink after work and complain about their own lot at the organization.

But then in March I found out I got into UChicago, and so it didn’t (or shouldn’t have) matter(ed) as much. I would be leaving in September (Smarmy did not know this). Still, my emotional reaction was not tempered by this knowledge.

This summer, a seemingly minor, but fairly major change was implemented at work. I was really upset. A couple weeks later I started the application process for the Libertarian process, and since I was over the stomach-sickening anxiety of the first few weeks of my new responsibility (it involves phones. I hate anwering phones. I think it should be an ADA recognized condition) I was able to forget it.

Now the Libertarian Fellowship is not a possibility, and I’m stuck here, and I’m still stuck answering this phone, and I know this is really no big deal. And that’s really as much details about the situation as I should go into, because it’s stupid to blog about work.

But the emotional reaction is the same as it was to Smarmy, and this time, I don’t even have an escape.  I’m overly tired (I think) and it’s upsetting me more than it should.               

I have started a few entries in the past two days about how I am tired/groggy/cranky/still haven’t done laundry. I am hesitant (or lazy) about writing about/posting such things, because they are boring, whiny, and unattractive. The last one goes back to the fact that the old habit of writing for a specific audience (read: ex-boyfriends or love interests who you want to give the appearence of togetherness/happiness/confidence to), which is unattractive in and of itself.

Work is busy.

This upcoming weekend, I somehow have to motivate myself to go to the gym (newly joined, uber cheap), return the quilt I bought online, and return some stuff at Borders. None of that should be at all difficult, but I am in such stasis that such errands seem like Herculian tasks.

Apparently, I am also incapable of writing anything that is not a cliche.

I keep thinking that at least it’s Wednesday, and after the dreaded Wednesday night meeting, it’s all smooth sailing from here (because that is how weeks usually go) but this week is going to get worse before it gets better, and then it all starts again Monday and it will be equally, if not more icky.

I fully intend to do my laundry tonight, which will at least end my bitching on that one.

The utter laziness of this weekend (in which I did not even do laundry) disgusts me. Occasionally the sloth-ness of my existences gets to me and I spend Monday feeling icky about my hardcore indulgence in one of the seven deadly sins. I am hoping to rectify this by doing my laundry tonight and perhaps straightening my room, but the number of hours I spend sitting on my bed with my laptop is really obscene.

I’m getting punchy. Maybe I would also feel better if I cleaned my desk, but instead I am choosing to whine unattractively.

It’s not that I hate the person I am now. I’m ok with her, the girl who has developed an unhealthy West Wing (or more accurately Josh/Donna) obsession, the girl who reloads her email every 90 seconds, the girl who eats far too many of these delicious crispy pretzel-cracker things. She is better off than the person I was a year ago, even if I have to refer to her in third person. But sometimes, I am just so sick of her, and she is so sick of her surroundings, and we are so impatient for it not to be this way.

I know of all the suggestons and solutions , the if you don’t like where you are or what you’re doing then it is up to you to change that. I’m working on that, I am – the Libertarian fellowship was certainly a huge part of that. But it’s a slow process and it feels like a lot of hurry up and wait and go nowhere fast, and so for now I’m just stuck being the girl I am now, who has nowhere to wear all her pretty new one-size smaller clothes.

In April, I will have been in suburbia for two years, when it was supposed to be for a few months. In May, I will be 27, and before I know it, another summer will speed by. Time is going to fast and I’m not keeping up with it, and while I’m doing as much as I can to find a way to get to a place where I want to be, there are only so many avenues and outlets. There’s a recession, there’s reality, and there’s logistics.

I didn’t mean for this to turn into such an existential angst fest, but my whining should be recorded. For posterity’s sake.

I don’t mean to go on blogging breaks, but work has been insane, and then, what do I have to say, really? I am still stuck. Oh, and it’s Saturday night, and I have no plans besides picking up some sushi, doing some laundry, and the SVU marathon.

I have basically become ok with the fact that my weekends are like this. I have gotten past judging them as “pathetic” and making self deprecating comments about them. I would just rather be spending my weekends doing nothing in DC (or NYC) and then I would have the option to do something that wasn’t nothing.

I think I might want DC like the way I wanted New York when I got out of college. Back then, I was also craving independence and the opportunity for a social life, to be sure, but I wanted New York because of HWSNBN. I think I want DC, and there’s not even a boy there. I suppose my therapist would say this is progress. Of course, it’s entirely possible that I have just forced myself to not want NYC, because I know that career wise, DC is the only place that makes sense right now. And, given that, there’s no use wanting what you can’t have, or torturing yourself with what cannot be.

HWSNBN still texts me very occasionally. He asked back in September when I’d be in the city next. I said December. He told me to let him know when, but I never did. I didn’t see the point, really, and also all the vain, shallow reasons like I want to be nothing but 100% together if I ever see him again.

So for now, I’m not quite sure what I’m doing. I have a phone interview on Monday for an organization that pays probably half of what my current job does, and who’s political orientation is possibly opposite of my own. Still, they do some interesting work in the security/foreign policy realm, so I’ll give it a chance to see what happens. Already, in my head I’m making excuses for why this is a terrible idea to even consider, and of course this is mere projection, because the phone interview hasn’t even happened yet.

When I moved to New York, I was actually pretty gutsy. Despite growing up 30 minutes away, I didn’t know the city, and I certainly didn’t know the boroughs. I spent the first half of the summer of 2005 job hunting and apartment hunting in the sweltering heat. I learned the neighborhoods of Brooklyn (where I never wound up living) by google map directions and walking. I learned the subway by following the colored lines on the map with my finger. HWSNBN and I were long over, and I didn’t have any friends in the city. I just did it.

“You have to take a step before you’re ready. Because if you wait to be ready, you’ll never take that step. “

Perhaps I would do well to remember this.

I finished the West Wing last night, and got depressed, because in general I find Series Finale’s terribly depressing, and this one particularly so, because it’s all about endings and change, and I deal with neither very well, apparently. And also, Josh and Donna melted my heart, and yet makes me sad in the way Dawson’s Creek used to make me sad when I was 15.

I am apparently jealous of the alleged emotions of tv characters.

So, it’s back to work and I’m drinking tea instead of my second cup of coffee, because it’s the New Year and I really should cut back on my coffee consumption.  I’m debating job hunting tactics with David and catching up on my filing.  I was irritated by 8:30.  I have a to-do list for January that contains nothing difficult but already looks intimidating. I would really like to lose 10 pounds (at least) but that requires a gym and getting over my gym phobia.

Sigh. My wish for 2010 is to be more social, the fulfillment of which is severely limited by my current suburban-circumstances.

In the last moments of 2009, I was sitting on my bed (the build up to ball-drop in Times Square on TV in the background, out of habit, and Just Because) talking to Keith, as I have so many nights in 2009.

“…and Crocodile,” Keith said when midnight hit.

Last year was Year of The Terrapin. This year, we’ve settled on the Crocodile. Please don’t ask, the explanation makes plenty of sense, but I don’t need any one else to give me that Look, the one that says “….ooookay” and makes me feel awkward.

I mentioned that the world might end tomorrow (because the date is a palindrome and that apparently means something doom-y) Of course I don’t take that seriously, but the world ending is not something I ever worry about. Because if the world ended, then it would be over! And I’d be dead! So it’s not something to worry about.

And we discussed some of our petty, judgmental thoughts. And I watched more West Wing. And ate junk food around 12:45. And thought, in the vaguest of terms about what I want from this year, and I guess, from this decade.

Because if you asked me what I wanted from the year, or decade when 1999 turned into 2000, I have no clue. I could go retrieve my journals from my parents attic, but the one for those days most likely just details the phone conversation I had with The Ex, late in the morning of the first day of 2000.