Sorry, folks, the computer is offline and has been since my return this past weekend sometime. (I'm using a friend's now to post this update.) I had hopes of having it repaired by now, but, alas, that's not to be apparently. It's not the sturdy computer but instead the broadband connection at fault...and I'm waiting, waiting, waiting for the repairman to repair and/or install a new port. And I've been waiting since Tuesday. Even with multiple calls, only incremental improvement has occurred.
Here's to hoping that tomorrow is my lucky day...I have much to post.
31 May 2007
26 May 2007
Gone racin', folks
I'm gone today and tomorrow to the Queen City of Charlotte to Lowe's Motor Speedway and to go watch the NASCAR® races there.
© Lowe's Motor Speedway
Along with 164,000+ other fans it would appear. Which works out to be a bit more than 10 times the average population of my old hometown in its heyday. The parking alone will be staggering to be sure.
The weekend promises two good races into the night, and I'm hopeful I can make it to the three 'meet and greet' sessions with my faves and their fans...which may lay a lot of pressure on the roads and traffic situation for all the holiday travelers. I'll try and take some pictures of all the festivities both on and off the track...including the standard 'man wearing double-sided beer can sipper cap' and the obligatory 'catfight in the stands between profoundly busty women who choose to go braless' to these events. For what it's worth, I will dress appropriately, namely because (a) I still have yet to get the season's first sunburn in, and the first one is always painful, and (b) gravity and my back necessitates the bra.
I said it once before, a couple of years ago, and I'll say it again now : Indianapolis can have the Indy 500 on Memorial Day (or any day, really), but their fans never seem to have as much fun. Nothing quite beats 'down home' chariot races...nothing.
Along with 164,000+ other fans it would appear. Which works out to be a bit more than 10 times the average population of my old hometown in its heyday. The parking alone will be staggering to be sure.
The weekend promises two good races into the night, and I'm hopeful I can make it to the three 'meet and greet' sessions with my faves and their fans...which may lay a lot of pressure on the roads and traffic situation for all the holiday travelers. I'll try and take some pictures of all the festivities both on and off the track...including the standard 'man wearing double-sided beer can sipper cap' and the obligatory 'catfight in the stands between profoundly busty women who choose to go braless' to these events. For what it's worth, I will dress appropriately, namely because (a) I still have yet to get the season's first sunburn in, and the first one is always painful, and (b) gravity and my back necessitates the bra.
I said it once before, a couple of years ago, and I'll say it again now : Indianapolis can have the Indy 500 on Memorial Day (or any day, really), but their fans never seem to have as much fun. Nothing quite beats 'down home' chariot races...nothing.
22 May 2007
AussieBloke Instructions and Tall Poppies
As I've been slaving away at work and at the books these days (a major computer overhaul at work and also a major end-of-session test fast approaching in the Spanish), I've also been a bit slow in keeping up with my daily news reading. Now those of you who are regular readers and who also know me in person know that this is a bit odd for me...say the equivalent of Jimmy Hoffa being found on Mars or something equally likely. I faithfully read my online papers...which range from conservative to liberal, from The Nation to Slate to The Wall Street Journal to several majors throughout Europe...with a dedication that is generally reserved to new mothers with their babies, or so it has been until the very recent past. However, and I say this in my defense more than anything, I do have the whole 'skim and glean' thing down to a pretty good science...a trick I mastered finally in Sydney early last year in an expensive Internet cafe...and can do all of this 'reading' (as it were) now in about an hour's time.
Amazingly, we 'news readers' seem to seek each other out in some fashion. While other people happily spend time online with Second Life or in chat rooms (and there's nothing wrong with either, people, once upon a time I actually would go chat but it all became too boring and clique-ish), I've found myself invited to some interesting message boards, and have become 'friends' (as much as one safely can be online anyways) from such places. And, in due recourse, I've sent (and received) other articles of interest from said friends and other online acquaintances alike over the years (some even from some very nice people here, in fact). I'm honestly not sure what fuels my online 'need to know' obsession (other than being a news junkie and tied away from major media all day long), but I admit it has been a bit of a nuisance to me and downright aggravating to those unaccustomed to my style. I do not read necessarily what everyone else reads, but I do allow I love reading points of view from distinctly non-American sources...it reminds me how big a world we truly do live in now.
So it is with some discomfort I must admit to a couple of FOB (friends of blog) here that I have not been paying as close attention to the Sydney Morning Herald as I should have been, as I normally would in my daily routine. While I will concede the SMH is not my favourite online Oz paper, it at least is the one I can most easily read and see updated regularly. As with all things attached to my love for Australia, I have to take them in severe moderation now; scaling myself back down to just 'future tourist status' again has been a bit harder than I imagined, frankly. But God Bless the SMH has never been shy about including a lot of US-based news (one is never left guessing what the latest gossip is about Britney Spears or Brangelina, for example). Lately, though, it does seem to have some sort of theme going on: namely, that of parodying themselves (as really only the Aussies can do) and also doing a bit of 'public education' to those of us far more removed.
For example, I have a good friend near Rose Bay who has sent me the 'AussieBloke instruction manual' article at least three times since it first appeared, as apparently she's 'in tune' with some oddball prediction I'll need it someday. Dear Sarah sends this not as a piece I should take seriously, but more as just a taste of what I should understand is tried and true Fair Dinkum humour. A humour, she says, that is all too missing in the American self-reflection. It takes great, great skill, she surmises, to not only aspire to be the reviled Tall Poppy in Oz, but also cut yourself down voluntarily before you reach full bloom. Actually, I'm not sure I agree with her assessment of the individuals cutting themselves down (instead, it looks like many others stand all too ready to hold the shears), but I will grant that the whole concept of The Tall Poppy is mostly lost in the States. The sky's the limit here, mates.
Take a look at the AussieBloke Instruction Manual by Richard Glover and see what you think. With the exception of some comedy skits on late night television about rednecks and 'trailer trash', or with the exception of those 'identify your type of man' articles that clog up all the womens' magazines, I'm not sure I've ever read a similar, let alone better, column in comparison on this side of the Pacific. And the jibe is about men, written by a man, no less. (Egads!) All in all, I wholeheartedly agree with many of the observations and/or warnings listed in the column, but I can't help but want to add two additional ones:
Never audibly voice flaws about either the exterior or the interior of your AussieBloke, especially in the presence of unspecific friends, SheilaLove models and/or other AussieBloke models. Doing so can result in a near complete shutdown of your model, and may also be accompanied by a dark, ungodly sound from the interior as gears are surely grinding and belts about to burst. Pressure gauges may also indicate a steep increase in combustible elements. This warning holds especially true if your model is unglowingly reviewed in front of newer, trimmer AussieBloke models or even in front of the dreaded KiwiMate models. Manufacturer considers all of these actions deliberate attempts to void warranty and will not not be responsible for damages should such reckless activities occur. If repair and/or comparison must be done, do so only in the privacy of one's home and be prepared to service the ego panel and exterior attachments immediately.
In negative situations it cannot currently escape and/or maneuver, understand that when your AussieBloke emits a tone that suspiciously sounds like an "I", it generally means the imperative "you" (meaning the owner hereforth). Not "we", not "you and me", but "you". Newer models may begin with an "I" tone upon start up, but will develop the proper "you" tone all too soon enough. Older models can no longer elicit the "I" tone in negative situations and only reserves that tone when all difficulties are accomplished and/or avoided. Depending on the age and previous ownership of your AussieBloke, some requests and/or instructions may go unfulfilled altogether; manufacturer makes each model one of a kind and, as such, cannot be held liable for individual quirks in operation. However, newer AussieBloke models can be changed/modified by a patient handler; older models are uniquely hardwired to resist change and may have to owned and operated as is. How well an AussieBloke responds depends to some degree on how trusting its owner is with letting out the leash.
Sarah: I await your reply. I know this is quite inadequate as to the suggestions for additional 'guidelines' you sent me, but I figure yours should be better as you've had almost your entire dating and married life with AussieBloke models. I should at least get 'foreigner points'.
For the rest of you: I think we all clearly see that while I absolutely adore being in Australia every time I'm there, I may not be 'Aussie wife material' at any point in my lifetime...LOL. Should marriage ever come calling for me, I'm pretty sure I'll be the one needing an owner to keep me in check.
Amazingly, we 'news readers' seem to seek each other out in some fashion. While other people happily spend time online with Second Life or in chat rooms (and there's nothing wrong with either, people, once upon a time I actually would go chat but it all became too boring and clique-ish), I've found myself invited to some interesting message boards, and have become 'friends' (as much as one safely can be online anyways) from such places. And, in due recourse, I've sent (and received) other articles of interest from said friends and other online acquaintances alike over the years (some even from some very nice people here, in fact). I'm honestly not sure what fuels my online 'need to know' obsession (other than being a news junkie and tied away from major media all day long), but I admit it has been a bit of a nuisance to me and downright aggravating to those unaccustomed to my style. I do not read necessarily what everyone else reads, but I do allow I love reading points of view from distinctly non-American sources...it reminds me how big a world we truly do live in now.
So it is with some discomfort I must admit to a couple of FOB (friends of blog) here that I have not been paying as close attention to the Sydney Morning Herald as I should have been, as I normally would in my daily routine. While I will concede the SMH is not my favourite online Oz paper, it at least is the one I can most easily read and see updated regularly. As with all things attached to my love for Australia, I have to take them in severe moderation now; scaling myself back down to just 'future tourist status' again has been a bit harder than I imagined, frankly. But God Bless the SMH has never been shy about including a lot of US-based news (one is never left guessing what the latest gossip is about Britney Spears or Brangelina, for example). Lately, though, it does seem to have some sort of theme going on: namely, that of parodying themselves (as really only the Aussies can do) and also doing a bit of 'public education' to those of us far more removed.
For example, I have a good friend near Rose Bay who has sent me the 'AussieBloke instruction manual' article at least three times since it first appeared, as apparently she's 'in tune' with some oddball prediction I'll need it someday. Dear Sarah sends this not as a piece I should take seriously, but more as just a taste of what I should understand is tried and true Fair Dinkum humour. A humour, she says, that is all too missing in the American self-reflection. It takes great, great skill, she surmises, to not only aspire to be the reviled Tall Poppy in Oz, but also cut yourself down voluntarily before you reach full bloom. Actually, I'm not sure I agree with her assessment of the individuals cutting themselves down (instead, it looks like many others stand all too ready to hold the shears), but I will grant that the whole concept of The Tall Poppy is mostly lost in the States. The sky's the limit here, mates.
Take a look at the AussieBloke Instruction Manual by Richard Glover and see what you think. With the exception of some comedy skits on late night television about rednecks and 'trailer trash', or with the exception of those 'identify your type of man' articles that clog up all the womens' magazines, I'm not sure I've ever read a similar, let alone better, column in comparison on this side of the Pacific. And the jibe is about men, written by a man, no less. (Egads!) All in all, I wholeheartedly agree with many of the observations and/or warnings listed in the column, but I can't help but want to add two additional ones:
Sarah: I await your reply. I know this is quite inadequate as to the suggestions for additional 'guidelines' you sent me, but I figure yours should be better as you've had almost your entire dating and married life with AussieBloke models. I should at least get 'foreigner points'.
For the rest of you: I think we all clearly see that while I absolutely adore being in Australia every time I'm there, I may not be 'Aussie wife material' at any point in my lifetime...LOL. Should marriage ever come calling for me, I'm pretty sure I'll be the one needing an owner to keep me in check.
17 May 2007
LIVESTRONG DAY, May 16
Today is LIVESTRONG DAY, a day of activism and support for those battling cancer, remembrance for those who have lost the fight, and recognition to all others (family, scientists, medical staff, etc) who are trying to find a cure for this horrible disease. This day seeks to support legislation that will enhance early detection efforts, provide more comprehensive treatment and also help with survivorship services. This day, as well as the full-fledged campaign behind it, is spearheaded and run by the Lance Armstrong Foundation, with Mr. Armstrong not only being a legendary Tour de France cycling winner, but also a cancer survivor himself.
You can read about how you can help from this link to the Foundation site. If you can't attend a rally today in your area, at least consider making a contribution or using their online link to Congress to add your name to the millions who want better treatment and support for patients here. Show some support today, even it means just wearing some yellow (the colour adopted by the campaign and is on all of their merchandise).
And, not that anybody should need them, but here are two major reasons why LIVESTRONG day is so important (statistics taken from The National Cancer Institute's Surveillance Epidemiology and End Results (SEER) "Cancer Stat Fact Sheets", any bolds used below are mine):
On survival:
"Survival rates can be calculated by different methods for different purposes. The survival rates presented here are based on the relative survival rate, which measures the survival of the cancer patients in comparison to the general population to estimate the effect of cancer. The overall 5-year relative survival rate for 1996-2003 from 17 SEER geographic areas was 64.9%. Five-year relative survival rates by race and sex were: 65.5% for white men; 66.2% for white women; 58.6% for black men; 53.8% for black women."
On lifetime risk:
Based on rates from 2002-2004, 40.93% of men and women born today will be diagnosed with cancer of all sites at some time during their lifetime. This number can also be expressed as 1 in 2 men and women will be diagnosed with cancer of all sites during their lifetime. These statistics are called the lifetime risk of developing cancer. Sometimes it is more useful to look at the probability of developing cancer of all sites between two age groups. For example, 21.16% of men will develop cancer of all sites between their 50th and 70th birthdays compared to 15.56% for women.
When you take in the current estimated US population, (300 million plus), and you factor in the above numbers, the results are alarming. 1 in 2 men and women will be diagnosed with a cancer of all sites (keep in mind that includes the sometimes rather benign skin cancers, too), but the survival rate is only 64.9%, including the more treatable forms. Chances are, if you don't already know a cancer patient, you will very soon...and hopefully it won't be you.
Denial and complacency are deadly, as we all know. Let's get moving on this, people. Let's make our voices heard.
15 May 2007
Rethinking that whole potential to learn anything at any age...
Sorry, folks, for the delay in writing here...I've been hitting the books. To what success is still to be determined.
This whole 'learning new skills' thing is still going full steam ahead, and I was doing fine until last Sunday...and until I started some hard core verb conjugation. If you thought it was bad when you were in junior high (if not sooner)in English, conjugation is not any better when you're learning it in another language, at an advanced pace, and after I've already put my 8+ hours in at work prior to doing another almost 3 more for class. Last night, I dreamt I was in Barcelona again but this time none of the friendly locals would help me say and/or find things, but now I also knew just enough Spanish to really insult them. I think I woke up after being subconsciously 'slapped' outside the Picasso Museum, but it could have also been off Las Ramblas, too. Dreams, even in different cultures and accents, can be very weird.
Let me sum up the whole accelerated Spanish learning process as such:
While I will never agree with the notion that 'old dogs can't learn any new tricks', I do now somewhat wonder about the likelihood of dyslexic Southern-inspired women to learn Spanish without making complete asses of themselves.
I love to study and I love new things, but this is probably one of the most vexing learning challenges I've had in quite some while. Muy dificile, mis amigos, muy dificile.
This whole 'learning new skills' thing is still going full steam ahead, and I was doing fine until last Sunday...and until I started some hard core verb conjugation. If you thought it was bad when you were in junior high (if not sooner)in English, conjugation is not any better when you're learning it in another language, at an advanced pace, and after I've already put my 8+ hours in at work prior to doing another almost 3 more for class. Last night, I dreamt I was in Barcelona again but this time none of the friendly locals would help me say and/or find things, but now I also knew just enough Spanish to really insult them. I think I woke up after being subconsciously 'slapped' outside the Picasso Museum, but it could have also been off Las Ramblas, too. Dreams, even in different cultures and accents, can be very weird.
Let me sum up the whole accelerated Spanish learning process as such:
While I will never agree with the notion that 'old dogs can't learn any new tricks', I do now somewhat wonder about the likelihood of dyslexic Southern-inspired women to learn Spanish without making complete asses of themselves.
I love to study and I love new things, but this is probably one of the most vexing learning challenges I've had in quite some while. Muy dificile, mis amigos, muy dificile.
10 May 2007
Carolina Rollergirls, Dorton Arena, May 20
My favourite female bruisers and flat track skating pros, The Carolina Rollergirls, take to the rink again very soon, in a double header, over at Dorton Arena on May 20. They are a lot fun to watch, are (shock! horror!) family friendly, and put on a really good show. It's a sport, though, people...and not in the way that another guilty pleasure of mine...professional wrestling...is. The girls are legit and play it that way. Tickets are very reasonably priced, there's plenty of free parking, and concessions are also very affordable. If you don't know how the sport is done, never fear as a brief training and rules explanation happens at the beginning of every bout. Great time had by all, adults and kids alike, and an even better way to support our local team of hard-playing athletes!
Come out if you can here, but if you're not local to Carolina, go see another women's flat track derby team in your area.
(Friend of Blog Mike even has pointed out similar teams Down Under Australia way are also starting up, too, with the Melbourne Grind Girls down his way in Victoria. I found some general info on the Aussie league formation through their MySpace page for the Australian Roller Derby Association.)
05 May 2007
Shrugging off Girl Friday
It's been one of those weeks, folks...you know how they can be. On paper, this past week was supposed to be a good one...work three days and help out a friend in need (and her family) out in the western part of the state for about two, and help out another here locally going through some legal hell for another. Then...glorious weekend!...I would rest on the seventh day. In theory, it looked good, almost planned even. In reality, the week has been a total bust and I find myself too busy to even post or do much emailing this week (sorry about that) and too disenchanted today to do anything other than lick my wounds.
Work especially has been a corker this week, and that comes from some one who until recently was happily wrapped up in a ton of work projects. I had a pretty strong disagreement with one of my bosses on Monday, about my limitations as a worker and, specifically, how much I can reasonably handle. Depending on the week, I do about two jobs which, on paper, are assigned 20 hours a week on average each but always end up being closer to 30 hours each (with the salary of only 40 hours total). Recently, though, I've been handed yet another 20+ hours a week job which is pulling in me in yet another direction, with another set of goals, with another set of deadlines (same salary). So frankly this blow up about what I can reasonably do now has been a long time coming.
I realise fully that in some ways I have created this mess on my own...by being the Girl Friday to Everybody, no one thinks I have a right to say no and when I actually do say it, that seems to trigger some sort of in-house work emergency. (Monday's little spat started because I was on a conference call and couldn't be interrupted and no one except me recognised that need...on a day where I had come in from being off to complete a deadline, no less. And it just went downhill from there...) If I had pushed back earlier in my career here on what I would/would not do, I probably would still be in this situation a little (it's always been in my work personality to do and give a little more than others), but no where near as badly. Now, as I realised on Monday, apparently me saying 'no' or that 'I've got too much already on my plate' is simply not recognized. And it's infuriating to finally accept you're not a name, you're not a person with limits or a personal life away from work, but instead are just a 'cog in the wheel'. For a 'can do' person such as myself, weeks like this past one just sucks any inspiration, any drive, any enthusiasm for the work straight out of me.
Talking about it with a trusted co-worker only reinforces how much of a doormat I've been. It's always a bit amazing to hear how other people 'see' you, especially when you don't see yourself in that same manner. My friend sees me as driven ('to the point of being a workaholic like a man', whatever that means...actually I find men easier to work with than women as there tends to be far less drama), but as a person who needs to control the smaller details of things to perfection. That 'control vibe' makes others just come to me with the smallest of items for me to fix (one of the issues that got this all started was that two printers had paper jams and no one could 'fix' them except me, which was totally bogus) instead of handling it themselves. The friend asserts I've made them dependent on me, and I haven't done enough to make them stand on their own. While I see her point, I'm not sure I totally agree with it, as many people there can or did do all of these things once, but somehow these tasks 'became' my responsibility. And no, I don't know when or how they did, but I fully admit I've never thrown a fit about it, either. I've always been for doing 'whatever it takes to get the job done right the first time' and always have been, whether or not it's in the official job description or not. If I see something that needs to be done and I know how, I generally do it to keep things running smoothly. In other jobs, that's been a godsend between myself and my superiors; in the current job, it's causing some unraveling as the 'list' only continues to grow.
After reading up in old college texts I haven't touched in almost a decade, I feel like Pavlov and his dog now...as I've been studying how to correct and 'relearn' behaviours after certain response triggers. Will it work? Who knows...as I'm not even sure if I'm Pavlov retraining my co-workers or if I am the dog here needing to find a good trainer. Honestly, I'm not sure it's even worth the effort...I'm that unhappy. But I also recognize this negativity has been building well before this week. Maybe this and a host of other little trespasses on my ego...I didn't even get a card for Administrative Professionals Day because, you guessed it, I didn't get it for myself when I got the other secretaries, etc, their cards and gifts...is quickly becoming the straw that breaks the camel's back. Again, I don't know. All I do know for certain is that I'm completely worn out physically, mentally, and emotionally. So, yeah, happiness and success with my work is really important to me. In that sense, maybe I am like a man as my job defines a good deal of who I am as a person and because I don't have a spouse or children to dote over like so many girlfriends of mine. (Egads! At age 37, too! I suppose I should have multiple cats by now or something.) But also, for the first time in many, many years, I dread going to work.
I realise quickly that there is a serious disconnect between what I need from a job and what I want, and that's not necessarily a new phenomenon. In times past, I've suffered through because I had bills to pay or a had acquired a recent promotion. But eventually the bloom comes off the rose as I learn (far too late) that I've given far more to my employer than I could ever how to get back in a tax-deductible wage and benefits package. I've never been one for in-office politics so much, and that's another drawback that keeps coming up: if you're not a 'player', you might as well be a piece of furniture. I'm in a bit of better place financially now (although no thanks to the car repairs also from this week, another entry that will come when I've properly resolved it and calmed down), and I'm learning new skills and meeting new contacts outside of work...so there are places in which to redirect my energies. Language, computer certifications (at long last), human resources and training...all of these fields hold potential for me, if I can just get a handle on 'the how' to make them work to my advantage. And gather the mental energy to do so.
For the last few years, I had invested so much in getting the skills needed to help with my (hopeful) immigration to Oz, but due to the actions and decisions of others, that's not to be. Gradually, I've accepted this outcome and now rely on 'what goes around, comes around' karma to settle that score (with thanks to Oz immigration). For better or for worse, in the pursuit of the Oz goal, I took classes and learned skills for what I thought would be a good fit for an international employer; these classes and skills are good to have, mind you, but ultimately aren't serving any current work purpose. And, in licking my wounds this weekend being a sloth on the sofa, I'm making a list of what I want and what I don't want from my job anymore: not only with the current employer, but with future ones down the line. It's been rather cathartic really as I haven't done this since I really decided I wanted to move to Oz in 2002. Painful when realising I haven't moved forward much at all in those five years, but cathartic still the same. It's rather humbling really when I notice how much I've 'settled', how much I passed up on in pursuit of saving money or in how much I was planning on living 'there' and not 'here'...how little I was willing to give up of myself of in pursuit of that dream. Maybe that was the straw that broke this camel's back, but I've just had my head in the sand all this time and was too caved in to notice it.
Time will tell, I guess. In the meantime, it's back to sorting out 'the better job description' and I'll see where that takes me. And storing up some inner 'drive' to go to work again on Monday.
Work especially has been a corker this week, and that comes from some one who until recently was happily wrapped up in a ton of work projects. I had a pretty strong disagreement with one of my bosses on Monday, about my limitations as a worker and, specifically, how much I can reasonably handle. Depending on the week, I do about two jobs which, on paper, are assigned 20 hours a week on average each but always end up being closer to 30 hours each (with the salary of only 40 hours total). Recently, though, I've been handed yet another 20+ hours a week job which is pulling in me in yet another direction, with another set of goals, with another set of deadlines (same salary). So frankly this blow up about what I can reasonably do now has been a long time coming.
I realise fully that in some ways I have created this mess on my own...by being the Girl Friday to Everybody, no one thinks I have a right to say no and when I actually do say it, that seems to trigger some sort of in-house work emergency. (Monday's little spat started because I was on a conference call and couldn't be interrupted and no one except me recognised that need...on a day where I had come in from being off to complete a deadline, no less. And it just went downhill from there...) If I had pushed back earlier in my career here on what I would/would not do, I probably would still be in this situation a little (it's always been in my work personality to do and give a little more than others), but no where near as badly. Now, as I realised on Monday, apparently me saying 'no' or that 'I've got too much already on my plate' is simply not recognized. And it's infuriating to finally accept you're not a name, you're not a person with limits or a personal life away from work, but instead are just a 'cog in the wheel'. For a 'can do' person such as myself, weeks like this past one just sucks any inspiration, any drive, any enthusiasm for the work straight out of me.
Talking about it with a trusted co-worker only reinforces how much of a doormat I've been. It's always a bit amazing to hear how other people 'see' you, especially when you don't see yourself in that same manner. My friend sees me as driven ('to the point of being a workaholic like a man', whatever that means...actually I find men easier to work with than women as there tends to be far less drama), but as a person who needs to control the smaller details of things to perfection. That 'control vibe' makes others just come to me with the smallest of items for me to fix (one of the issues that got this all started was that two printers had paper jams and no one could 'fix' them except me, which was totally bogus) instead of handling it themselves. The friend asserts I've made them dependent on me, and I haven't done enough to make them stand on their own. While I see her point, I'm not sure I totally agree with it, as many people there can or did do all of these things once, but somehow these tasks 'became' my responsibility. And no, I don't know when or how they did, but I fully admit I've never thrown a fit about it, either. I've always been for doing 'whatever it takes to get the job done right the first time' and always have been, whether or not it's in the official job description or not. If I see something that needs to be done and I know how, I generally do it to keep things running smoothly. In other jobs, that's been a godsend between myself and my superiors; in the current job, it's causing some unraveling as the 'list' only continues to grow.
After reading up in old college texts I haven't touched in almost a decade, I feel like Pavlov and his dog now...as I've been studying how to correct and 'relearn' behaviours after certain response triggers. Will it work? Who knows...as I'm not even sure if I'm Pavlov retraining my co-workers or if I am the dog here needing to find a good trainer. Honestly, I'm not sure it's even worth the effort...I'm that unhappy. But I also recognize this negativity has been building well before this week. Maybe this and a host of other little trespasses on my ego...I didn't even get a card for Administrative Professionals Day because, you guessed it, I didn't get it for myself when I got the other secretaries, etc, their cards and gifts...is quickly becoming the straw that breaks the camel's back. Again, I don't know. All I do know for certain is that I'm completely worn out physically, mentally, and emotionally. So, yeah, happiness and success with my work is really important to me. In that sense, maybe I am like a man as my job defines a good deal of who I am as a person and because I don't have a spouse or children to dote over like so many girlfriends of mine. (Egads! At age 37, too! I suppose I should have multiple cats by now or something.) But also, for the first time in many, many years, I dread going to work.
I realise quickly that there is a serious disconnect between what I need from a job and what I want, and that's not necessarily a new phenomenon. In times past, I've suffered through because I had bills to pay or a had acquired a recent promotion. But eventually the bloom comes off the rose as I learn (far too late) that I've given far more to my employer than I could ever how to get back in a tax-deductible wage and benefits package. I've never been one for in-office politics so much, and that's another drawback that keeps coming up: if you're not a 'player', you might as well be a piece of furniture. I'm in a bit of better place financially now (although no thanks to the car repairs also from this week, another entry that will come when I've properly resolved it and calmed down), and I'm learning new skills and meeting new contacts outside of work...so there are places in which to redirect my energies. Language, computer certifications (at long last), human resources and training...all of these fields hold potential for me, if I can just get a handle on 'the how' to make them work to my advantage. And gather the mental energy to do so.
For the last few years, I had invested so much in getting the skills needed to help with my (hopeful) immigration to Oz, but due to the actions and decisions of others, that's not to be. Gradually, I've accepted this outcome and now rely on 'what goes around, comes around' karma to settle that score (with thanks to Oz immigration). For better or for worse, in the pursuit of the Oz goal, I took classes and learned skills for what I thought would be a good fit for an international employer; these classes and skills are good to have, mind you, but ultimately aren't serving any current work purpose. And, in licking my wounds this weekend being a sloth on the sofa, I'm making a list of what I want and what I don't want from my job anymore: not only with the current employer, but with future ones down the line. It's been rather cathartic really as I haven't done this since I really decided I wanted to move to Oz in 2002. Painful when realising I haven't moved forward much at all in those five years, but cathartic still the same. It's rather humbling really when I notice how much I've 'settled', how much I passed up on in pursuit of saving money or in how much I was planning on living 'there' and not 'here'...how little I was willing to give up of myself of in pursuit of that dream. Maybe that was the straw that broke this camel's back, but I've just had my head in the sand all this time and was too caved in to notice it.
Time will tell, I guess. In the meantime, it's back to sorting out 'the better job description' and I'll see where that takes me. And storing up some inner 'drive' to go to work again on Monday.
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