At work, I make lists of all the things I have to do each day and then I cross these tasks off in different colors. It is very enjoyable and makes me feel quite productive to see list after list, red-lined and finished. Even really inane things make these lists, because I WILL get chewed out if I don't verify something about license renewal for the third time or grab my boss a small coffee with milk on my way back from the post office. It recently occurred to me that if I had theses kind of lists for what I do in my personal time, they would be even dumber. And maybe, just maybe, if I start making lists of all the stupid things I do with my precious spare time, I will actually realize how much time I'm wasting and will be motivated to become a more productive person. We'll start with this:
-play with the Clipiola Italian paperclips from my office and think of ways I can use them at home, simply because they are spiral and look cool
-look at wedding and baby pictures of people I disliked in high school but am still, for some unknown reason, friends with on Facebook
-look at pictures of myself on Facebook to make sure I'm not tagged in anything really weird or terrible (although even if I was, I'm sure I'd probably leave it up anyways). simultaneously verify that there are at least a couple pictures in the first page view in which my hair looks nice and I don't look fat, and in which I appear to be happy
-search for on-sale flat screen TVs online for my bedroom, because even though I spent 600 bucks on a nice 32" only a few months ago, I am too lazy (and cold) to go to the living room and watch it
-re-read my journal, which is a bad idea because it gets me nowhere, wastes my time, and makes me extremely sentimental and/or emotional, neither of which is useful at this point in my life
-search craigslist for a new, cheaper apartment and get depressed about how much I pay in rent, this depression turns to anxiety when I think about how much I pay on top of rent for health insurance and utilities, anxiety turns back to depression when I realize that the only way I can fix this is to move out of New York
-refresh weather.com to see if the temperature has changed since I started wasting time on my computer. get angry about the crap weather that inevitably returns every time I have a day off
More to come later, when I am wasting my time in ways other than writing on this blog. Post office time now. List making time later. Hoping for some caffeine in between.
Friday, March 27, 2009
Sunday, March 22, 2009
Things I Should Do That I Don't
1. Run a marathon > my best friend from college just ran a marathon this weekend. While he was carb-loading, I was trying to decide if I should get off my lazy ass and put on enough clothing to last 20 minutes in the 43 degree afternoon wind. I did not do so. And then when I remembered that he was running a marathon, I felt like a big fat loser.
2. Stop eating white cheddar cheese popcorn > this will never happen, so I should just give up now and call it a day. I'm not even sure why it made this list. Probably because I am trying to convince myself not to go through 5 whole servings a day. Which will also never happen. Maybe 4 servings. Maybe just two. But never none.
3. Clean my room > so I can be minimalist like my boyfriend. He has the biggest room of anyone I know in NYC and he has hardly anything in it. It is amazing. I can make my voice echo AND do a headstand without crashing into any furniture. I secretly want to fill all his walls with the framed photographs I have no room for in my own bedroom. I secretly want to buy him furniture and arrange it because I have no more room to buy furniture for myself. I secretly want to switch rooms with him. This is not going to happen, any of it, because I like him a lot and I don't want him to think I'm any more of a weirdo than he already does.
4. Fold my laundry > folding laundry is the most annoying chore ever: it's like, okay your laundry is finally clean, and now you have to do something else with it? Fold it neatly? And put it away? When you finally get the motivation to clean your bathroom, you don't have to do anything else with it- you can sit back on your porcelain throne and admire your handiwork. Folding laundry sucks. Especially if you have so many clothes that once they are all clean they won't all fit in your drawers. So once you fold it, some of it still has to sit out on your chair until you've had time to wear other clothes from your drawers, at which point said clean clothes can take their place. I would rather wait until there is room in the drawers and then I'll fold these clothes. Maybe.
That's all I've got right now. Back to watching Flight of the Conchords in my underwear and eating popcorn in bed. And maybe updating my Facebook status. If I'm not doing things that I should do, at least I'm doing things I maybe should not do. A reverse productivity, if you will.
2. Stop eating white cheddar cheese popcorn > this will never happen, so I should just give up now and call it a day. I'm not even sure why it made this list. Probably because I am trying to convince myself not to go through 5 whole servings a day. Which will also never happen. Maybe 4 servings. Maybe just two. But never none.
3. Clean my room > so I can be minimalist like my boyfriend. He has the biggest room of anyone I know in NYC and he has hardly anything in it. It is amazing. I can make my voice echo AND do a headstand without crashing into any furniture. I secretly want to fill all his walls with the framed photographs I have no room for in my own bedroom. I secretly want to buy him furniture and arrange it because I have no more room to buy furniture for myself. I secretly want to switch rooms with him. This is not going to happen, any of it, because I like him a lot and I don't want him to think I'm any more of a weirdo than he already does.
4. Fold my laundry > folding laundry is the most annoying chore ever: it's like, okay your laundry is finally clean, and now you have to do something else with it? Fold it neatly? And put it away? When you finally get the motivation to clean your bathroom, you don't have to do anything else with it- you can sit back on your porcelain throne and admire your handiwork. Folding laundry sucks. Especially if you have so many clothes that once they are all clean they won't all fit in your drawers. So once you fold it, some of it still has to sit out on your chair until you've had time to wear other clothes from your drawers, at which point said clean clothes can take their place. I would rather wait until there is room in the drawers and then I'll fold these clothes. Maybe.
That's all I've got right now. Back to watching Flight of the Conchords in my underwear and eating popcorn in bed. And maybe updating my Facebook status. If I'm not doing things that I should do, at least I'm doing things I maybe should not do. A reverse productivity, if you will.
Sunday, March 8, 2009
The Illustrious Life of Vera
My chair has had a very illustrious existence. I venture to guess it has even had a very long and fruitful life thus far, as I found it in a high end thrift shop (high end equaling fruitful, thrift shop equaling longish). At first glance the chair was (is) a beautiful specimen: matte white leather with a chic black trim, tall, polished chrome legs, the back two which curve slightly.
I think it is safe to say I am in love with my chair.
Even if my chair is a woman (It is totally a woman, only women are this beautiful and well preserved, except maybe for gay men. I don't think my chair is a gay man.)
Upon further inspection, my chair once belonged to Burberry. What this means is mostly lost on me, as I can only surmise that it once made it's home in a high end retail store. Not far from the Burberry client sticker on the bottom of my chair, there is a tiny sticker which says "Made in Italy" AND a tiny Italian flag. Italy! I knew this chair was special- extraordinary, even.
Who may have sat in my chair before I lugged it up Hudson street, into the Iofredda's apartment building, then back down to the subway, onto the 1 train, transferring in Times Square to the N train, into the Food World so I could purchase toilet paper, and then down 29th Street to my apartment where we climbed the stairs to it's new home?
Who, indeed? My chair has gotten so many jealous looks in even my short ownership. People looking longingly at it's supple leather, as they sat on the hard plastic benches of the N. People glancing sideways and cranking their heads around as my chair passed, the kind of looks normally reserved for leggy blondes. People with questionable glances, wondering where or how they might obtain such a chic and lovely piece of furniture for their own humble apartments.
Oh, my chair. Touched by rich old women, Italian stock boys, perhaps a burly UPS man or an overly tactile customs inspector. And now reserved primarily for my behind. Or my clean laundry. Or maybe I will rest my computer (up until now my most cherished posession) on it's smooth cream colored surface.
I sure am getting old and domestic.
I think it is safe to say I am in love with my chair.
Even if my chair is a woman (It is totally a woman, only women are this beautiful and well preserved, except maybe for gay men. I don't think my chair is a gay man.)
Upon further inspection, my chair once belonged to Burberry. What this means is mostly lost on me, as I can only surmise that it once made it's home in a high end retail store. Not far from the Burberry client sticker on the bottom of my chair, there is a tiny sticker which says "Made in Italy" AND a tiny Italian flag. Italy! I knew this chair was special- extraordinary, even.
Who may have sat in my chair before I lugged it up Hudson street, into the Iofredda's apartment building, then back down to the subway, onto the 1 train, transferring in Times Square to the N train, into the Food World so I could purchase toilet paper, and then down 29th Street to my apartment where we climbed the stairs to it's new home?
Who, indeed? My chair has gotten so many jealous looks in even my short ownership. People looking longingly at it's supple leather, as they sat on the hard plastic benches of the N. People glancing sideways and cranking their heads around as my chair passed, the kind of looks normally reserved for leggy blondes. People with questionable glances, wondering where or how they might obtain such a chic and lovely piece of furniture for their own humble apartments.
Oh, my chair. Touched by rich old women, Italian stock boys, perhaps a burly UPS man or an overly tactile customs inspector. And now reserved primarily for my behind. Or my clean laundry. Or maybe I will rest my computer (up until now my most cherished posession) on it's smooth cream colored surface.
I sure am getting old and domestic.
Tuesday, March 3, 2009
I Should Move Somewhere Warmer
The above statement is very applicable to what the hell I should do with my life. It's really a shame that I like New York City so much, and that I am fortunate enough to have met people I can't imagine leaving. So what to do now?
Thoughts:
1- Go on tropical vacation (this didn't work last time I tried, and might be a little tricky considering my boss seems to be a big fan of consistency in my work schedule. and I've only been there for 3 weeks yet...)
2- Go to warm places, like the gym (too smelly), yoga (nice, but my arms can only take it a couple times a week), or a tanning salon (totally out since my bout with Melanoma).
3- Hide in my bed until May (not really an option, considering the aforementioned job)
I am fresh out of ideas. I am completely miserable in this single-degree wind tunnel, but it's not even fun to complain about since 8 million other people are in the exact same situation.
In my next lifetime I'm going to be Australian. I wonder if love bagel can come?
Thoughts:
1- Go on tropical vacation (this didn't work last time I tried, and might be a little tricky considering my boss seems to be a big fan of consistency in my work schedule. and I've only been there for 3 weeks yet...)
2- Go to warm places, like the gym (too smelly), yoga (nice, but my arms can only take it a couple times a week), or a tanning salon (totally out since my bout with Melanoma).
3- Hide in my bed until May (not really an option, considering the aforementioned job)
I am fresh out of ideas. I am completely miserable in this single-degree wind tunnel, but it's not even fun to complain about since 8 million other people are in the exact same situation.
In my next lifetime I'm going to be Australian. I wonder if love bagel can come?
Thursday, February 26, 2009
Things that are Good
Today was largely un-interesting. I say this because the highlight was my trip to Bagel House this morning, where, despite my best intentions to eat better, I had a giant chocolate/cream cheese muffin. But I made Doug eat at least three bites.
However, despite the uninteresting-ness of my day (mostly spent volunteering at the Museum of Modern Art and working on my quarterly taxes), I was in no particular mood, good or bad. And this is good because I have gotten really tired of being in a bad mood the past month. And also I realized that I am the only person who can help me not be in a bad mood, and this is both annoying and empowering. And means that I have to make having a good attitude my numero uno priority.
On the other hand, yesterday I was in a really good mood. Yesterday was a great day, and let me tell you why:
1. I went to work, and I got paid. (Payment for work is always a good thing.)
2. After work, I went to the movies with Doug, who always lets me hold his hand, whether we are in the movies or not. (Going to movies is a good thing. Going to movies with your red-headed boyfriend is better.)
3. On the way to the movie, I bought Smartfood popcorn and a six pack of beer, which I then expertly hid in my bag. (Smartfood is SO good. Beer is even better.)
4. On the way to the movie, I bought chicken fingers and fries from Chelsea Papaya, which I then expertly hid in my bag. (Chicken fingers and crinkly fries from Chelsea Papaya are possibly better than beer. Depends on what kind of beer it is.)
5. Slumdog Millionaire is a really good movie. (Despite my deep hatred for awards shows and all things awards-show related, those rich bastards in Hollywood were right- really really good movie.)
6. After the movie, I went home with aforementioned red-head AND.... ate cookies. (Cookies are also a good thing. Or 10 good things.)
7. Doug's apartment is always warm. (I am always cold, so this is probably the BEST thing on this list.)
So there you have it. It is almost Friday, and so far the run-down is thus:
Monday- kind of sucked
Tuesday- sucked less, actually didn't really suck, considering it consisted of eating curry products (god, I love things made with curry) at Bite with one of the very few former co-workers I still like (Kav you're cool), getting paid to browse cnn.com with a cool old guy, and a delightfully B.O.-free yoga class. Oh and then I drank a bunch of wine and feel asleep by 11. Sweeeet.
Wednesday- did not suck at all, culminated in cookies
Thursday- also did not suck at all, so I guess that counts as a good day
I see Friday being great. I am going to a Knicks game with Kevin where I'm sure I'll spend my last remaining non-rent money on horrifically overpriced beers, but I won't mind because the beauty of sporting events is that you are supposed to drink, and the more you drink, the less you care about how much money you are actually spending.
Hello, weekend! Forecast for Saturday and Sunday: productive and delicious, the high point being brunch. God I love brunch.
ps- Doug, do I need to use a code name for you in this blog? I figured it didn't matter that much since I think you're the only one who reads this (except when my sisters are bored in class) but if you want to remain nameless, I'll edit in something suave in place of your name, you just let me know honeymuffin.
However, despite the uninteresting-ness of my day (mostly spent volunteering at the Museum of Modern Art and working on my quarterly taxes), I was in no particular mood, good or bad. And this is good because I have gotten really tired of being in a bad mood the past month. And also I realized that I am the only person who can help me not be in a bad mood, and this is both annoying and empowering. And means that I have to make having a good attitude my numero uno priority.
On the other hand, yesterday I was in a really good mood. Yesterday was a great day, and let me tell you why:
1. I went to work, and I got paid. (Payment for work is always a good thing.)
2. After work, I went to the movies with Doug, who always lets me hold his hand, whether we are in the movies or not. (Going to movies is a good thing. Going to movies with your red-headed boyfriend is better.)
3. On the way to the movie, I bought Smartfood popcorn and a six pack of beer, which I then expertly hid in my bag. (Smartfood is SO good. Beer is even better.)
4. On the way to the movie, I bought chicken fingers and fries from Chelsea Papaya, which I then expertly hid in my bag. (Chicken fingers and crinkly fries from Chelsea Papaya are possibly better than beer. Depends on what kind of beer it is.)
5. Slumdog Millionaire is a really good movie. (Despite my deep hatred for awards shows and all things awards-show related, those rich bastards in Hollywood were right- really really good movie.)
6. After the movie, I went home with aforementioned red-head AND.... ate cookies. (Cookies are also a good thing. Or 10 good things.)
7. Doug's apartment is always warm. (I am always cold, so this is probably the BEST thing on this list.)
So there you have it. It is almost Friday, and so far the run-down is thus:
Monday- kind of sucked
Tuesday- sucked less, actually didn't really suck, considering it consisted of eating curry products (god, I love things made with curry) at Bite with one of the very few former co-workers I still like (Kav you're cool), getting paid to browse cnn.com with a cool old guy, and a delightfully B.O.-free yoga class. Oh and then I drank a bunch of wine and feel asleep by 11. Sweeeet.
Wednesday- did not suck at all, culminated in cookies
Thursday- also did not suck at all, so I guess that counts as a good day
I see Friday being great. I am going to a Knicks game with Kevin where I'm sure I'll spend my last remaining non-rent money on horrifically overpriced beers, but I won't mind because the beauty of sporting events is that you are supposed to drink, and the more you drink, the less you care about how much money you are actually spending.
Hello, weekend! Forecast for Saturday and Sunday: productive and delicious, the high point being brunch. God I love brunch.
ps- Doug, do I need to use a code name for you in this blog? I figured it didn't matter that much since I think you're the only one who reads this (except when my sisters are bored in class) but if you want to remain nameless, I'll edit in something suave in place of your name, you just let me know honeymuffin.
Monday, February 16, 2009
One Week Into It (my job, my life post-deathbed, etc.)
Consensus?
So far I like my job and I kind of hate everything else. Yes, this is one of those negative blog posts where you humor me because I am going to rant like every other blogger does from time to time (or all the time) about various things I don't like. And at least a few of these are somehow work-related, though I don't know how related they are to the larger picture of what the hell I should do with my life. I will try to make a correlation at some point.
Things I Don't Like:
-Getting sick. And staying sick for extended periods of time.
-Missing my birthday. Inevitably I will not be sick anymore and then I will just be sad that I missed the only day out of 365 that is devoted to me and during which I can't feel bad about doing everything I want and nothing useful.
-Not getting a birthday cake with candles or a reasonable facsimile thereof.
-People who don't care that I'm on my deathbed. Or at least that I can't get out of bed to wash the puke off my comforter.
-Having to cancel an expensive NON-REFUNDABLE vacation because of aforementioned illness.
-Having to do complicated taxes.
-Having to do complicated taxes 4 times a year.
-This horrifically cold weather.
How this relates to what I should do with my life:
-Don't buy expensive vacations ahead of time.
-If you do buy expensive vacations, make sure you spend the extra 50 bucks on insurance. If you are anything like me and tend to have big accidents at inopportune times, you will need it. This goes for more than vacations. This goes for EVERYTHING.
-Do not live in New York City where it is either brutally hot or brutally cold.
-I have no advice for missed birthdays, cakes, or finding people who will help you wash puke off your comforter (or at least ask how you are doing), or taxes. I am apparently very bad at keeping such things in order.
It is obvious that I am going through the stages of grief over my lost health and lost vacation. I was too sick to care about anything except trying not to die, then I was so happy that I was alive and could actually breathe without coughing up my left lung and walk outside (walk! outside!), then I was sad about how weeks of bed rest affected the rest of my always faltering life, and now I am just angry. I am not an angry person. I do not like being an angry person. I need to figure out what to do about this.
Feeling a little manic lately. Can you tell? I blame it on Valentine's Day. Another thing I'm going to continue disliking even though I'm in a relationship. What is the point of a holiday in which no one, no matter where they are in life, knows what they should be doing to celebrate it? I'm for Thanksgiving, where it's obvious that turkey is the focal point of the day and it is a known fact that you do not need to buy anything for anybody, because there is no such thing as a Thanksgiving Day gift. Turkey is obvious, and edible and delicious, and also kind of healthy. People should care more about Thanksgiving. People should send Thanksgiving Day cards.
So that's it. I'm for turkey. And apparently I have anger issues. And I need to get the hell over it. But my job's pretty decent. End of story.
So far I like my job and I kind of hate everything else. Yes, this is one of those negative blog posts where you humor me because I am going to rant like every other blogger does from time to time (or all the time) about various things I don't like. And at least a few of these are somehow work-related, though I don't know how related they are to the larger picture of what the hell I should do with my life. I will try to make a correlation at some point.
Things I Don't Like:
-Getting sick. And staying sick for extended periods of time.
-Missing my birthday. Inevitably I will not be sick anymore and then I will just be sad that I missed the only day out of 365 that is devoted to me and during which I can't feel bad about doing everything I want and nothing useful.
-Not getting a birthday cake with candles or a reasonable facsimile thereof.
-People who don't care that I'm on my deathbed. Or at least that I can't get out of bed to wash the puke off my comforter.
-Having to cancel an expensive NON-REFUNDABLE vacation because of aforementioned illness.
-Having to do complicated taxes.
-Having to do complicated taxes 4 times a year.
-This horrifically cold weather.
How this relates to what I should do with my life:
-Don't buy expensive vacations ahead of time.
-If you do buy expensive vacations, make sure you spend the extra 50 bucks on insurance. If you are anything like me and tend to have big accidents at inopportune times, you will need it. This goes for more than vacations. This goes for EVERYTHING.
-Do not live in New York City where it is either brutally hot or brutally cold.
-I have no advice for missed birthdays, cakes, or finding people who will help you wash puke off your comforter (or at least ask how you are doing), or taxes. I am apparently very bad at keeping such things in order.
It is obvious that I am going through the stages of grief over my lost health and lost vacation. I was too sick to care about anything except trying not to die, then I was so happy that I was alive and could actually breathe without coughing up my left lung and walk outside (walk! outside!), then I was sad about how weeks of bed rest affected the rest of my always faltering life, and now I am just angry. I am not an angry person. I do not like being an angry person. I need to figure out what to do about this.
Feeling a little manic lately. Can you tell? I blame it on Valentine's Day. Another thing I'm going to continue disliking even though I'm in a relationship. What is the point of a holiday in which no one, no matter where they are in life, knows what they should be doing to celebrate it? I'm for Thanksgiving, where it's obvious that turkey is the focal point of the day and it is a known fact that you do not need to buy anything for anybody, because there is no such thing as a Thanksgiving Day gift. Turkey is obvious, and edible and delicious, and also kind of healthy. People should care more about Thanksgiving. People should send Thanksgiving Day cards.
So that's it. I'm for turkey. And apparently I have anger issues. And I need to get the hell over it. But my job's pretty decent. End of story.
Monday, February 9, 2009
I'm Alive... Barely. Alive.
This time I have a very good reason for abandoning this blog. I would say a trip to the hospital and two weeks of deathly illness is a pretty decent reason for letting a little thing like a blog go. But fear not! I will not let this blog go the way of all the rest. No, you will not languish in obscurity because I have given up on ever acquiring brilliant writing skills. This blog will live on, in small infamy, forever and ever, even though
I GOT A NEW JOB!
Do you know what this means? So many many things... but mostly it means I get another brief respite from wondering what I should be doing with my career, because until I realize this job is not it (which, my god, could it actually be?), I am able to rest in the peace of thinking that I may have actually found my calling this time. And maybe I have? I've been lucky to find something (and convince them I'm worth hiring over the other 900 applicants) that not only do I want to do, but I actually feel qualified to do. I am able to use my previous experience at SBJ's architectural firm, in conjunction with my graphic design skills, to do a job that I'm actually pretty sure I can do without feeling totally lost and underqualified. Which is no small feat. I have felt underqualified so much in the past few years that it's a wonder I haven't given up and gone back to serving sandwiches just so I don't have to deal with the constant nagging feeling of not being good enough to make it in this city. So we shall see if this one takes... I so hope it will, because among other things, the commute is really super.
In other news, apparently no one told my former co-leader that I quit my job. And I really just don't feel like having that conversation with her. It would figure that when I finally left a place with such communication problems no one would actually get the memo. I emailed the coordinator and I know she got it, so I think it's ok to feel like this is no longer my problem. So there.
So I might have a clue what to do with my life. Holy hell, could I? We shall see... we shall see.
I GOT A NEW JOB!
Do you know what this means? So many many things... but mostly it means I get another brief respite from wondering what I should be doing with my career, because until I realize this job is not it (which, my god, could it actually be?), I am able to rest in the peace of thinking that I may have actually found my calling this time. And maybe I have? I've been lucky to find something (and convince them I'm worth hiring over the other 900 applicants) that not only do I want to do, but I actually feel qualified to do. I am able to use my previous experience at SBJ's architectural firm, in conjunction with my graphic design skills, to do a job that I'm actually pretty sure I can do without feeling totally lost and underqualified. Which is no small feat. I have felt underqualified so much in the past few years that it's a wonder I haven't given up and gone back to serving sandwiches just so I don't have to deal with the constant nagging feeling of not being good enough to make it in this city. So we shall see if this one takes... I so hope it will, because among other things, the commute is really super.
In other news, apparently no one told my former co-leader that I quit my job. And I really just don't feel like having that conversation with her. It would figure that when I finally left a place with such communication problems no one would actually get the memo. I emailed the coordinator and I know she got it, so I think it's ok to feel like this is no longer my problem. So there.
So I might have a clue what to do with my life. Holy hell, could I? We shall see... we shall see.
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