Glad to report that my days are numbered. At work, that is. I've officially given notice, and boy has the stress level gone down. A LOT.
I love the fact that my team leader, who is one of the main reasons I'm going (don't get me started), hasn't even acknowledged that I've given notice. At least the head of my department has sent me an email saying I'll be missed. The team leader just goes right on talking to me about things that will be deployed/happening long after I'm gone. In a meeting the other day, he started talking about how he's really excited about a new development we'll be able to use in testing our products, and how it applies specifically to my colleague and to me. Deployment estimate: August. My last day: 30th of June.
Not to mention a host of other things that have done nothing except confirm for me that this decision is the right one for me right now. My mental health is sure to bounce back. The teeth grinding has already lessened. I don't feel as worn out as I have in the past. I no longer dread Mondays. And I have a positive view of my future (which is certainly something that I haven't felt professionally for a long time).
I've still got 26 days left, which is a long time (or it SEEMS a long time). But I'm not making any plans to do more than what I need to do. I have finished going to the extreme for this company. I've finished with going beyond the call of duty. I have 13 years' worth of experience, know-how, understanding of how it all works. I know things that could only be known by someone like me because of how long I've been around, and because I listen to what people say, and I know who to ask about things, and how to ask for help from people who would tell other people to just get in line. (As an aside, I think people are willing to do things for me when I ask them because I treat them like people. There are many around here who treat their co-workers like production-line flunkies. I'd like to remind a few people around here that just because you happen to have been promoted to 'manager', it doesn't necessarily mean that you know bugger all about how to manage people, or how to lead a team. I can tell you unabashedly: you don't know squat).
I'm going to do what I must do, and that's all. I'm going to record things that are part of my job description, but when it comes to divulging all my secrets about who to talk to, and how, in order to smooth the way and sort things out, forget it.
One of my strengths is being a facilitator. I'm great at getting people to work together. And what I've come to realize is that, around here, that's not desirable.
I'd also like to quote from my most recent appraisal, from a comment from my team leader: "I see the need for [her] to progress, and her enthusiasm to gain extra experience with which to make the case for further progression when appropriate roles arise that she can apply for." I've added the emphasis here. Two and a half years in the same position, without a pay rise, nor a promotion. What is the point of working your arse off to get a great appraisal, or to ask for help with learning and development, when there isn't a chance in Hell that you're going to be promoted? OOooh. You mean I'll be ALLOWED to APPLY for a job to move up in my department, but I'd still potentially be shunted aside, just in case there's someone from outside the organization? What about that old fashioned gem -- promotion on merit? Remember that one?
He 'sees my enthusiasm to gain extra experience'. Gee. That's nice that he SEES it. But he's never done a thing to work with it, or provide any opportunities to help me move forward. And when it's been queried, he just bounces it back to my line manager, saying 'oh that's a management issue -- not something for me'.
I'm gone. Long gone. Even though I've got 26 days left. I'm well and truly gone. And I'm taking my information, my know-how, my experience, and my secret ways with me. So have a good time after I've gone, trying to figure out how it all works.
Oh. And I'll be watching the salary and career progression of my replacement with interest. I reckon that if there's a promotion, or a pay rise, before two and a half years are out, you'll be hearing from me. And one or two of my professional friends. You know - those people with the letters QC after their names?
Showing posts with label change. Show all posts
Showing posts with label change. Show all posts
Tuesday, 26 May 2015
Tuesday, 17 February 2015
Why Do They Have One, and We Haven't?
Ok. So first of all, I'm a loser. Who had any idea that the little local cinema was going to sell out tonight, when we planned a date night to go see the new movie about Stephen Hawking?
Oh. You all knew that I should have booked tickets online two weeks ago? Oh.
Anyway, there we were, out and about, the sitter at home with the kids, and we had no where to go. So we had a think and decided (wait for it...) to go to the pub.
But we decided to go to a pub we'd never been to before. One in a village a good 20 minute drive from where we live. Let's call the pub 'The Chequers'.
It's amazing.
It's comfy, and welcoming, but elegant. It's got a good area for proper settling in by the fire, but it's got a bar, and a dartboard, and snacks. And none of the comfy chairs around the fireplace match, and most of them are a touch threadbare. But it's also a restaurant, and the place is well turned out, but not over the top. Chairs and tables in the dining area are large, dark wood pieces, and the chairs have seats upholstered in green leather, with the brass studs going round the edges.
But what makes it great is that it's all a bit eclectic, and shabby, but without being a dump. Sure, it's got trendy lightbulbs in the hanging lights, but it's got a leg of cured, acorn-fed ham sitting on the bar, waiting for your order (and they serve it sliced oh so thinly, on a plate, with blanched almonds). And it has hunter green wainscoting, but it's got a tiny Victorian stuffed alligator on the bar, holding books of matches. MATCHES! No one does matches anymore. I love matches.
Taxidermy? Yep. They've got it, and I love it. This place has a deer's head mounted behind the bar -- it's Clive. But it's good, and it works. They've got huge glass jars of snacks behind the bar on the glass shelf - the aforementioned almonds, but also caper berries, wasabi dried broad beans, chilli peanuts. And a popcorn machine. And the selection on tap was pretty great (I have my sources).
Sunday nights they do their steak night (there's only one chef on Sundays - the rest get the day off). For 16 quid, you get a bib lettuce and bleu salad, flat iron steak, chips, and a cheese board. For an extra 7, you can have one of each of an excellent selection of oysters (St Austell natives, pearl, etc.)
These two guys were having a late dinner, and came over from the bar to a table nearby when their food arrived. It smelled pretty good, and we commented. They (one in his early 50s, one in his early 70s) didn't miss a beat, and handed round the chips. And they were good. They ordered merlot (larges), which came with glasses, and each had their own tiny carafe.
Upstairs, the private dining room can be reserved with no extra charge. It seats about 20 or so, and it's a proper private room, with double doors that close, and bookshelves filled with books, and candles, and other tchotchkes. Dark green walls, leather-covered chairs, and the table set and the candles burning, ready for a party to sit, and eat, and enjoy.
SO -- in a nutshell: fabulous, slightly tatty, taxidermy, good snacks, good booze, steak, classy, and totally nice, but not overbearing staff. Excellent, right?
Then why can't they do that in my town?
The big thing these days in my town is that the people who own one of the oldest pubs in town want to convert it into three houses, and sell up. And people are outraged. Because the owners have said 'it's not a viable business'. But I wonder how hard you're trying, really, when you're closed a lot (how can you offer B&B rooms but be closed on a Monday?), you don't cater to people with kids and dogs, the food isn't great, and you're not exactly the friendliest people around. I've walked in the door there as a party guest, and been given a shoulder cold enough to cause frostbite, let alone going in for a drink, just for the heck of it.
Clearly, things can be viable - it has been before - and it's been a pub for hundreds of years - so YES - viable! It just seems that either they don't really care, or they're shit at it. I'm inclined to think it's a bit of both. And I never have been able to understand people who go into the 'people' business, when they obviously aren't particularly fond of people.
There's another pub in town, and that's been recently taken over by a nice couple. They're nice. And they try so hard. And that's part of it. They're so all-fired determined that you're going to have a great time at their pub, they're going to beat it out of you. As a pub landlord, is it really best practice to suggest to a group of 40-something dads who've come in for a pint at 8pm on a Thursday that they 'line up some Jäger shots'? And the fake flowers. Ugh. And the fact that there's a fire only in one fireplace. And that none of the tables look like they want someone to come sit at them.
I know. I'm complaining. But it's something my husband and I talk about all the time. What would WE do, if we were running a pub (or a B&B, or...)? Because you've all been there, when you've gone someplace, and it's been 'meh' when it could've been 'WOW!' So what's missing?
Is it an innate sense of aesthetic? Is it that some people don't know how to do classy? Is it differing standards of comfort? Is it a cash thing? Is it a lack of desire to provide something for your customers that goes just a smidgeon beyond satisfactory? WHAT?
About that 'not a viable business' pub. Let me tell you one thing...if you deck your place out with furniture that someone might want to sit on (for more than five minutes), if you welcome people in with a smile on your face, if you do a few good things on your menu instead of a cornucopia of mediocre choices, and you make it a place where people want to stay, instead of a place where they can't wait to finish and go, it might change things a bit.
I'm not a pub landlord. I'll never be one. But I'm a customer, and I know what I've seen that works, and what doesn't. 'The Chequers' works. The pub in my town could work, too. But only if someone chooses to put into it what they want to get out of it.
Oh. You all knew that I should have booked tickets online two weeks ago? Oh.
Anyway, there we were, out and about, the sitter at home with the kids, and we had no where to go. So we had a think and decided (wait for it...) to go to the pub.
But we decided to go to a pub we'd never been to before. One in a village a good 20 minute drive from where we live. Let's call the pub 'The Chequers'.
It's amazing.
It's comfy, and welcoming, but elegant. It's got a good area for proper settling in by the fire, but it's got a bar, and a dartboard, and snacks. And none of the comfy chairs around the fireplace match, and most of them are a touch threadbare. But it's also a restaurant, and the place is well turned out, but not over the top. Chairs and tables in the dining area are large, dark wood pieces, and the chairs have seats upholstered in green leather, with the brass studs going round the edges.
But what makes it great is that it's all a bit eclectic, and shabby, but without being a dump. Sure, it's got trendy lightbulbs in the hanging lights, but it's got a leg of cured, acorn-fed ham sitting on the bar, waiting for your order (and they serve it sliced oh so thinly, on a plate, with blanched almonds). And it has hunter green wainscoting, but it's got a tiny Victorian stuffed alligator on the bar, holding books of matches. MATCHES! No one does matches anymore. I love matches.
Sunday nights they do their steak night (there's only one chef on Sundays - the rest get the day off). For 16 quid, you get a bib lettuce and bleu salad, flat iron steak, chips, and a cheese board. For an extra 7, you can have one of each of an excellent selection of oysters (St Austell natives, pearl, etc.)
These two guys were having a late dinner, and came over from the bar to a table nearby when their food arrived. It smelled pretty good, and we commented. They (one in his early 50s, one in his early 70s) didn't miss a beat, and handed round the chips. And they were good. They ordered merlot (larges), which came with glasses, and each had their own tiny carafe.
SO -- in a nutshell: fabulous, slightly tatty, taxidermy, good snacks, good booze, steak, classy, and totally nice, but not overbearing staff. Excellent, right?
Then why can't they do that in my town?
The big thing these days in my town is that the people who own one of the oldest pubs in town want to convert it into three houses, and sell up. And people are outraged. Because the owners have said 'it's not a viable business'. But I wonder how hard you're trying, really, when you're closed a lot (how can you offer B&B rooms but be closed on a Monday?), you don't cater to people with kids and dogs, the food isn't great, and you're not exactly the friendliest people around. I've walked in the door there as a party guest, and been given a shoulder cold enough to cause frostbite, let alone going in for a drink, just for the heck of it.
Clearly, things can be viable - it has been before - and it's been a pub for hundreds of years - so YES - viable! It just seems that either they don't really care, or they're shit at it. I'm inclined to think it's a bit of both. And I never have been able to understand people who go into the 'people' business, when they obviously aren't particularly fond of people.
There's another pub in town, and that's been recently taken over by a nice couple. They're nice. And they try so hard. And that's part of it. They're so all-fired determined that you're going to have a great time at their pub, they're going to beat it out of you. As a pub landlord, is it really best practice to suggest to a group of 40-something dads who've come in for a pint at 8pm on a Thursday that they 'line up some Jäger shots'? And the fake flowers. Ugh. And the fact that there's a fire only in one fireplace. And that none of the tables look like they want someone to come sit at them.
I know. I'm complaining. But it's something my husband and I talk about all the time. What would WE do, if we were running a pub (or a B&B, or...)? Because you've all been there, when you've gone someplace, and it's been 'meh' when it could've been 'WOW!' So what's missing?
Is it an innate sense of aesthetic? Is it that some people don't know how to do classy? Is it differing standards of comfort? Is it a cash thing? Is it a lack of desire to provide something for your customers that goes just a smidgeon beyond satisfactory? WHAT?
About that 'not a viable business' pub. Let me tell you one thing...if you deck your place out with furniture that someone might want to sit on (for more than five minutes), if you welcome people in with a smile on your face, if you do a few good things on your menu instead of a cornucopia of mediocre choices, and you make it a place where people want to stay, instead of a place where they can't wait to finish and go, it might change things a bit.
I'm not a pub landlord. I'll never be one. But I'm a customer, and I know what I've seen that works, and what doesn't. 'The Chequers' works. The pub in my town could work, too. But only if someone chooses to put into it what they want to get out of it.
Tuesday, 10 February 2015
A Wise Geezer Once Said...
'It is our choices that show what we truly are, far more than our abilities.'
Anyone know what great brain said the above?
Yep. Albus Dumbledore. A truly excellent man. Shame about the 'not being a real person' bit.
JK Rowling gives a lot of good advice via ole Albus. Sure, they're great stories with great characters, but she sneaks these bits of wisdom in without us really noticing until later. And I like that.
But I think it's worth giving that quote from Albus a chew every once in a while, just to make sure it's front of mind. And believe me, it's so easy for a whole load of the daily shite to get in the way, and block out the important things.
The choices our parents make for us when we're too young to know better are one of main things that determine if we're fuck-ups in our lives, or end up decent people. And if your parents make half-decent choices for you, and teach you how to do the same, then you're in pretty good shape. At least until you go off into the world where you can do what you damned well please without them harping at you about stuff from dawn to dusk.
My parents did a pretty good job, especially considering that they were practically CHILDREN when they became parents. And they each had their issues, which, alongside all the good stuff they taught me and my brother (i.e. Don't litter. Don't be a jerk. Clean up after yourself. Don't hit. Tell the truth. Apologize. Say please and thank you. Be nice, etc.), we also absorbed. And it's really an eye-opener of a day when you suddenly realize that you do stuff, or act a certain way, or think about things in a particular light, because you subconsciously learned how to mimic your parents along with all the shit they inherited from their parents.
But I think I need to start taking a good look at the choices I make, rather than question my abilities. And that means abilities across the board - as a parent, a spouse, an employee, etc. I'm VERY able and I do what I do well (most of the time). But it's the choices that are under fire here.
I have a really short fuse when it comes to my youngest. She's amazing -- smart, funny, cute. But boy is she a pain in the arse. And she's a typical four-year-old kid. Her attention span is great if she's doing something she likes; not so great if she's uninterested in the activity at hand. She faffs around with eating her meals. You've got to ask her to put her jacket on about seven times before you can walk out the door (this is especially effective when I'm trying to get her to school and me to the train on time every morning). So I shout. LOUDLY. And I hate it.
But it occurred to me tonight that I'm establishing the dynamic of our future relationship here. She acts out, I shout, she cries, I get stressed out, and we all end up feeling rotten. And none of it changes the fact that it still took 15 minutes for her to take her socks off.
So -- choices, not abilities. I need to choose to change how I interact with my kids. With my husband. Friends, mom, brother, sister-in-law, job. I've never been a good chooser. I've gotten a few choices right (hiya, Boss). But generally speaking, up until about ten years ago, I've been a bit of an ass when it comes to making good choices. I think my mom and dad tried to help me when I was younger, but I also know that they had their own issues and lives and thoughts to sort out.
I'm also very aware that I'm genetically programmed to make shitty choices. I've unlearned a lot of this behaviour (thanks, Valerie Brucker -- I miss you). And I know my nuclear family has done some good unlearning, too. See? It's never too late to think about choices.
I have a lot of abilities - I can do a TON of stuff. But it's the choices that I've made across almost my whole life, in conjunction with my abilities, that have come up a bit flat. It's almost as if by the time you reach your 40s, you've got a good enough idea about how it all works to actually be ready to be out there in the world. You Get It. It Makes Sense. You've Got A Grip On Things.
The sad part is, there's no do-overs. Not a one. The best you get is a clean slate.
It's not about a mid-life crisis (I had mine at about 28 years old, I reckon). It's about understanding how to make choices that turn you into the person that you want to be -- now, tomorrow, next week. And hopefully, those choices will allow a bit of retro-fitting, so you can try to see your former self as the person you wanted to be, too.
My husband and I were just talking about sticker charts - you know the ones? Where your kid gets a sticker if they [fill in the blank] for a whole day/week. When they get a week's worth of stickers, they get a [fill in the blank with treat/item/event]. So we were talking about creating a sticker chart for the youngest, to see if we can get her to try to not be so utterly bonkers.
I think the person who needs the sticker chart is me.
Anyone know what great brain said the above?
Yep. Albus Dumbledore. A truly excellent man. Shame about the 'not being a real person' bit.
JK Rowling gives a lot of good advice via ole Albus. Sure, they're great stories with great characters, but she sneaks these bits of wisdom in without us really noticing until later. And I like that.
But I think it's worth giving that quote from Albus a chew every once in a while, just to make sure it's front of mind. And believe me, it's so easy for a whole load of the daily shite to get in the way, and block out the important things.
The choices our parents make for us when we're too young to know better are one of main things that determine if we're fuck-ups in our lives, or end up decent people. And if your parents make half-decent choices for you, and teach you how to do the same, then you're in pretty good shape. At least until you go off into the world where you can do what you damned well please without them harping at you about stuff from dawn to dusk.
My parents did a pretty good job, especially considering that they were practically CHILDREN when they became parents. And they each had their issues, which, alongside all the good stuff they taught me and my brother (i.e. Don't litter. Don't be a jerk. Clean up after yourself. Don't hit. Tell the truth. Apologize. Say please and thank you. Be nice, etc.), we also absorbed. And it's really an eye-opener of a day when you suddenly realize that you do stuff, or act a certain way, or think about things in a particular light, because you subconsciously learned how to mimic your parents along with all the shit they inherited from their parents.
But I think I need to start taking a good look at the choices I make, rather than question my abilities. And that means abilities across the board - as a parent, a spouse, an employee, etc. I'm VERY able and I do what I do well (most of the time). But it's the choices that are under fire here.
I have a really short fuse when it comes to my youngest. She's amazing -- smart, funny, cute. But boy is she a pain in the arse. And she's a typical four-year-old kid. Her attention span is great if she's doing something she likes; not so great if she's uninterested in the activity at hand. She faffs around with eating her meals. You've got to ask her to put her jacket on about seven times before you can walk out the door (this is especially effective when I'm trying to get her to school and me to the train on time every morning). So I shout. LOUDLY. And I hate it.
But it occurred to me tonight that I'm establishing the dynamic of our future relationship here. She acts out, I shout, she cries, I get stressed out, and we all end up feeling rotten. And none of it changes the fact that it still took 15 minutes for her to take her socks off.
So -- choices, not abilities. I need to choose to change how I interact with my kids. With my husband. Friends, mom, brother, sister-in-law, job. I've never been a good chooser. I've gotten a few choices right (hiya, Boss). But generally speaking, up until about ten years ago, I've been a bit of an ass when it comes to making good choices. I think my mom and dad tried to help me when I was younger, but I also know that they had their own issues and lives and thoughts to sort out.
I'm also very aware that I'm genetically programmed to make shitty choices. I've unlearned a lot of this behaviour (thanks, Valerie Brucker -- I miss you). And I know my nuclear family has done some good unlearning, too. See? It's never too late to think about choices.
I have a lot of abilities - I can do a TON of stuff. But it's the choices that I've made across almost my whole life, in conjunction with my abilities, that have come up a bit flat. It's almost as if by the time you reach your 40s, you've got a good enough idea about how it all works to actually be ready to be out there in the world. You Get It. It Makes Sense. You've Got A Grip On Things.
The sad part is, there's no do-overs. Not a one. The best you get is a clean slate.
It's not about a mid-life crisis (I had mine at about 28 years old, I reckon). It's about understanding how to make choices that turn you into the person that you want to be -- now, tomorrow, next week. And hopefully, those choices will allow a bit of retro-fitting, so you can try to see your former self as the person you wanted to be, too.
My husband and I were just talking about sticker charts - you know the ones? Where your kid gets a sticker if they [fill in the blank] for a whole day/week. When they get a week's worth of stickers, they get a [fill in the blank with treat/item/event]. So we were talking about creating a sticker chart for the youngest, to see if we can get her to try to not be so utterly bonkers.
I think the person who needs the sticker chart is me.
Wednesday, 4 February 2015
Kish mier en toochis...
After some quick conversation with the husband last night, and some serious thinking about what's been going on in my life recently, I've made the decision to make some decisions.
I don't have too much longer to go before I can put them in writing, but suffice it to say that it's going to be good.
It's going to mean there's going to be a lot less stress in my life, and a lot more joy (no, I'm not separating from my husband). Ha ha. See what I did there? I made a hilarious 'spouse' joke.
But it's actually the spouse who said 'you should listen to this great Freakonomics podcast - I think it'll do you some good.' And you know what? It did.
It got me thinking that what I spend my days doing has to be something that I not only LIKE doing, but that lets me use the expertise and the experience I have on a daily basis. Currently, what I'm doing could be done by a robot (see previous post on this subject), or they could save themselves a ton of cash and just get some newbie, wet-behind-the-ears recent graduate or temp to make screenshots of websites, and put up pictures on the noticeboard, or make sure that everyone gets the monthly email about passwords.
Yep. This is my job. After 25 years in business, this is the majority of my work. Sure. I have projects to work on. But I'm so busy doing administration and clean-up, that I can't find the time to actually perform any of the tasks that are supposed to show why I need to do more and be more. But I spend an inordinate amount of time putting data from one excel spreadsheet into another, and sorting it (over, and over, and OVER again) because someone somewhere (who has no idea of what I do, or how I do it) has made a decision that may see like a good idea, but doesn't bear any resemblance to reality.
Oh yes. I also love being told off by a newly hired colleague how to do my job, and why how we've always done something clearly isn't how we should still do it. Please note: I've been at my place of employment since 2002, with an 18 month break between 2005-6. So clearly I wouldn't have any experience with change, or have been through any restructures, or new 'business implementations' engineered by profit-seeking (and utter out of touch with reality) bean counters and uber-Geschäftsleute who got their MBAs and love to talk about globalization, but haven't been in the trenches in years.
I'm just done. I'm done with the stress that makes me grind my teeth at night so badly that I get headaches. I'm done with the place that raises my cortisol levels to such an extent that I get the shpilkas just walking in the front door of the place. And to run with the Yiddish here, I'm also over the schmegeggy who's made me cry twice (when I swore it would never happen). I'm an ADULT, for God's sake!
So watch this space, nu? It's all going to be great.
I don't have too much longer to go before I can put them in writing, but suffice it to say that it's going to be good.
It's going to mean there's going to be a lot less stress in my life, and a lot more joy (no, I'm not separating from my husband). Ha ha. See what I did there? I made a hilarious 'spouse' joke.
But it's actually the spouse who said 'you should listen to this great Freakonomics podcast - I think it'll do you some good.' And you know what? It did.
It got me thinking that what I spend my days doing has to be something that I not only LIKE doing, but that lets me use the expertise and the experience I have on a daily basis. Currently, what I'm doing could be done by a robot (see previous post on this subject), or they could save themselves a ton of cash and just get some newbie, wet-behind-the-ears recent graduate or temp to make screenshots of websites, and put up pictures on the noticeboard, or make sure that everyone gets the monthly email about passwords.
Yep. This is my job. After 25 years in business, this is the majority of my work. Sure. I have projects to work on. But I'm so busy doing administration and clean-up, that I can't find the time to actually perform any of the tasks that are supposed to show why I need to do more and be more. But I spend an inordinate amount of time putting data from one excel spreadsheet into another, and sorting it (over, and over, and OVER again) because someone somewhere (who has no idea of what I do, or how I do it) has made a decision that may see like a good idea, but doesn't bear any resemblance to reality.
Oh yes. I also love being told off by a newly hired colleague how to do my job, and why how we've always done something clearly isn't how we should still do it. Please note: I've been at my place of employment since 2002, with an 18 month break between 2005-6. So clearly I wouldn't have any experience with change, or have been through any restructures, or new 'business implementations' engineered by profit-seeking (and utter out of touch with reality) bean counters and uber-Geschäftsleute who got their MBAs and love to talk about globalization, but haven't been in the trenches in years.
I'm just done. I'm done with the stress that makes me grind my teeth at night so badly that I get headaches. I'm done with the place that raises my cortisol levels to such an extent that I get the shpilkas just walking in the front door of the place. And to run with the Yiddish here, I'm also over the schmegeggy who's made me cry twice (when I swore it would never happen). I'm an ADULT, for God's sake!
So watch this space, nu? It's all going to be great.
Monday, 21 January 2013
Captain Kirk
 |
| Kobayashi Maru? Yeah, I beat that. |
Oh, sure. He's reckless at times; he trusts his gut instinct; and he doesn't give a crap about your diplomatic precedence -- he's gonna shoot you a look that says 'I told you so' when you've ignored the warning about not beaming down to the planet's surface, and then when you're surprised to be told you've been chosen as a casualty and you've got 24 hours to report to a disintegration booth, he STILL saves your sorry ass.
But the point is that he's good at making decisions, most of the time. And by that, I mean USUALLY; like 99% of the time. He's THAT good.
Captain Kirk doesn't care two hoots if people like him or not (well, except the lay-deez). He can't be bothered to determine if what he's about to do might honk people off, or get the gossip mill turning. He just DOESN'T care. He does what he thinks is the right thing to do.
And I've been wondering a lot lately about the decisions that people make, and why they make those decisions. And I've been wondering about people who stay with a job/person/hairstyle/etc. because they're worried about what people may think if they DON'T stay.
I'm not suggesting that you throw it all away, or give it up to trek the planet in search of your SELF while your bank balance diminishes exponentially by the day, or while your family wonders what the hell happened to you when you went out for milk and never returned.
But what I AM suggesting is that maybe we can all try to be a little more true to ourselves, and maybe a bit more understanding of others, especially when we look at how people choose to live their lives. Sometimes the decisions that people make that seem hair-brained are pretty courageous. (I'm also aware that some decisions people make are stupid, selfish decisions, but that's for another post...)
People are afraid. Really, really, afraid. Afraid of change, being alone, the shit-eye, disapproval, less money, more responsibility, being stuck, having to move, trying sushi, bad guys, blah, blah, blah. We ALL are afraid. And it's OK to be afraid.
But it's also OK to say, 'the HELL with being afraid', and then bleaching your hair platinum blond, or throwing in the towel on the horrible relationship you've been in for a zillion years, or going to a yoga class even though you're the fattest person in the room. Sometimes it's just about making the decision. You can always decide tomorrow what you're going to do next. Right now, it's just about making that first move, and deciding to DO something. You can always dye your hair back, or find a new boyfriend, or invest in your very own yoga mat tomorrow. Right now - just go for it. There is something YOU can do to affect your life for the better.
I think what I'm afraid of is waiting until the last minute to decide to do something. (NB: deciding to do something is good, even if it's at the last minute). But then I think about all those years where I'd have missed out on enjoying the fruits of making that one decision. It's the feeling I equate with climbing up the ladder of the enormously tall diving platform, and inching my way out to the edge, and realizing that I have to jump. I can't go back down; I've got to go OFF THE END...
Someone I used to know a long time ago used to just let out a huge, guttural 'COME ON!' and then dive into life. He made some seriously scary decisions, for him. And it got him into a lot of hot water, at times. But he was true to what he preached. And I admire that.
Kirk never lets on that he's afraid. You only see him sweat when he's been pummeling the baddie into submission when they're trying to take over his ship, or keep him from saving this episode's hot chick. You don't ever see the thin film of perspiration on his upper lip when he's faced with a situation that would make the rest of us shit our pants, and then bawl for our mommies.
But it's there. He's just as scared as the rest of us. The difference is, Jim doesn't let it get the best of him.
Kirk out.
Wednesday, 16 January 2013
Ship Ahoy
The countdown has begun. While I'm certainly going to miss the way that certain things have been, I'm also really looking forward to the way that things COULD be, because it's been a long time since I have anticipated something in this way.
I wonder, though, what it will be like when I'm presented with a blank slate? The 'tabula raza' aspect of what's about to happen is daunting at the same time that it's inviting; the unknown is supposed to be exciting - to provide the adrenaline rush that encourages movement forward.
While what I'm about to embark upon certainly isn't something that equates to my sitting down and have a quick but judicious read of The Art of War, it has made me think about things that have, and haven't, motivated me in the past. It's also made me realize that I can be particularly immature about various things. While I'm convinced that part of this immaturity is something I come by genetically, I've done some work on trying to stifle those parts of my cell makeup that lend themselves to hysterical denial of responsibility of things that are truly my fault.
With this in mind, though, I do feel as though I have a small (but present) ability to perhaps look at what I'm about to do, and where I'm about to go, and make some decisions and choices about how I want to be perceived, how I want to function, and what I want to accomplish.
I'm rather sure that I'll never be a heavy hitter in any aspect of my life. But I'm looking forward with relish to sinking my teeth into some new things, and some new experiences, and to learning how to become a new person professionally.
I mentioned over the weekend to the person I love best in the world that, while I may be crap at lots of things, I can sure as hell cook.
I'd like to think that I'm going to be pretty darned good at doing what I'm about to set out to do, as well. It appears that I'm going to have some people who are very willing to help, teach, encourage, and support me. It's been a long time since I've felt that way.
We'll see how it all goes.
I wonder, though, what it will be like when I'm presented with a blank slate? The 'tabula raza' aspect of what's about to happen is daunting at the same time that it's inviting; the unknown is supposed to be exciting - to provide the adrenaline rush that encourages movement forward.
While what I'm about to embark upon certainly isn't something that equates to my sitting down and have a quick but judicious read of The Art of War, it has made me think about things that have, and haven't, motivated me in the past. It's also made me realize that I can be particularly immature about various things. While I'm convinced that part of this immaturity is something I come by genetically, I've done some work on trying to stifle those parts of my cell makeup that lend themselves to hysterical denial of responsibility of things that are truly my fault.
With this in mind, though, I do feel as though I have a small (but present) ability to perhaps look at what I'm about to do, and where I'm about to go, and make some decisions and choices about how I want to be perceived, how I want to function, and what I want to accomplish.
I'm rather sure that I'll never be a heavy hitter in any aspect of my life. But I'm looking forward with relish to sinking my teeth into some new things, and some new experiences, and to learning how to become a new person professionally.
I mentioned over the weekend to the person I love best in the world that, while I may be crap at lots of things, I can sure as hell cook.
I'd like to think that I'm going to be pretty darned good at doing what I'm about to set out to do, as well. It appears that I'm going to have some people who are very willing to help, teach, encourage, and support me. It's been a long time since I've felt that way.
We'll see how it all goes.
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