I Have No Idea What I'm Doing - The Return.

I’m afraid I'm going to gripe a little bit so bear with me. Remember a few months ago I told you all about my employers deciding to exploit make use of my past experience as a reporter and putting me on a special assignment to write a white paper? Sure you do! This, as I mentioned, resulted in my being unceremoniously pulled from my desk, my duties and even the building and being shipped off to the Central Office where I and the other three members of the team would spend our days toiling away on the deserted top floor.

Then, of course, the HR girls were taken away too. I never mentioned this but, at my old desk, I was surrounded by the pretty girls from HR (Seriously, it’s like baring a resemblance to a porcelain doll is one of the hiring criteria for that section). I wasn't in HR, mind you. That was just where they had room to seat me that was closest to my department.

I'll admit I didn't mind this too much.

Still, aside from all that and me having to spend four times as much in transportation costs (No, I wasn't being compensated for this), it actually wasn't so bad. The team got along and, while progress was slow, we were actually starting to get the thing going. The whole point of us being transferred was to prevent us from being distracted by anything else. We were supposed to focus on the white paper and the white paper alone and get it done as quickly as possible.

For two months we battled traffic, parking issues (the other three drove) and the lack of decent lunchtime dining options (there are places you can get food but they’re all very far away). The people on the ground floor didn't like us very much, even though we all worked for the same government ministry (related to aforementioned parking issues) and sometimes the air conditioning on that floor broke but we persevered.

Now, we’re back. As of two weeks ago our long trips to Central came to an end and we were called back to base. You’d think I’d be happy now. Right? Now that it’s all over I get to return to my desk, resume my work and patiently endure the HR girls’ cooing over how much they love each other’s hair/shoes/outfit/etc. I would have been happy, if that were the case. See, the project isn't finished... I think. In fact, things are getting more and more confusing.

Let me explain.

Recently there has been some reshuffling of senior positions at the Head Office which forced our team leader, a Divisional Director, to have to return to base to assume some new responsibilities. With him being called back it made no sense to leave the rest of us there so they brought us in as well. The project isn't over. We’re just continuing it at Head Office... in the middle of all the distractions they wanted us to stay away from...

This, in itself, is annoying but the real problem is that the entire project has become an afterthought to the great big heads upstairs and no one is really taking it seriously. The team leader is too busy with his new responsibilities and they've separated all the members of the team as far away from each other as they could. However, since it hasn't officially been declared dead, I’m stuck here, one floor below where my real desk is, plugging away at it, wondering if there’s even a point. Added to that, they’re slowly starting to squeeze other tasks that have nothing to do with the project into my portfolio.

Then I saw an email from someone in the division wondering when I was planning to meet with her and officially assume the duties of my desk...

I don’t mind being given something to do. Don’t get me wrong. What I do mind is being taken from a division where, at least, I had some experience (and something nice to look at when I got bored) and being put in one where I had almost zero usable skills. While it is true I felt a little overwhelmed from time to time, at least I knew enough to fake it when I had to.

Helping write the white paper was an exception. This division I've been dropped into now deals with things like creating policy and a whole host of things I have never dealt with or have never been trained for.

Still, everything’s up in the air at this point. Just as I have been receiving little-to-no information on what’s going on, I think it’s safe to assume I’m not the only one and a lot of them don't really knows I’m only here on loan. In the end, I may end up being left alone to finish what I was sent here to do and go back to my “home”, surrounded by the pretty HR girls just one floor above.

I hope...

I'm Not Sure Where This Is Going, But I'm Pretty Sure It's Nowhere.

Sometimes I write an entire post in my head before I sit down at the computer. Sometimes I start out with just the idea of what I want to write about and start writing, seeing where that leads me. But then I asked myself, what would happen if I just sat down and just began to write? Start with no topic, no plan and no direction, and just write and see what happens.

I'll admit I'm cautious, but I'm not the "must have everything organised and planned out" type either. On the contrary, all I've even needed to get something done was a general direction and enough fare to pay for the ride. I don't need to have it all mapped out, but I still feel comfortable with having a general direction. This is the complete opposite to Mrs. C's personality. While she is the type to lunge headfirst and full speed into something, she needs a plan, even if it's after taking that first step. She needs to know how she's getting there, what route she'll take, what would be the best time to move to avoid traffic, if she should wear comfortable shoes and so on and so on. Yes, she's that neurotic anal (I wish) thorough.

But I digress... Where was I going with this? Oh yeah! Nowhere... Or somewhere... But I guess that's the point.

Wait, there's a point?

Anybody ever use Zemanta? It's this software that analyzes your posts as you type and helps you with pictures and related links and whatnot. It normally works pretty well but right now one of the things it's showing me is a picture of a man named Georg Lunge (I had to Google who he was). For those who didn't know (like myself) he's a German chemist who lived in the late 1800's to the early 1900's and he has nothing to do with anything I'm writing.

That's it?! You're just going to read the first sentence in my bio and leave it at that? I hope my name comes up in a pop-quiz or something someday.
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From this I can only deduce that I've gone so far off the reservation with this post that I've confused the program. I can only imagine what I'm doing to everyone else.

Wow! Those are a lot more words than I expected for a post that's basically about nothing. I feel like I should apologize or something for making you read all this drivel, but then again, it isn't like I'm making you sit through this. It isn't like I'm secretly lurking in a shadowy corner, pointing a gun and expecting a three-page report (double-spaced, use serif typeface, citations where necessary) on a) your impression of this post and how it may or may not contribute adversely to climate change and the global economy, or b) how the work of Georg Lunge helped shape the face of modern chemistry (he's your problem now). No, it's nothing like that.

It's due by Thursday.

Hey! That reminds of a cartoon I saw on Facebook once:

Wait! No... that's not it...

Oh, I remember. It 's this one:

Nobody said anything about a coherent story. Did they?

So, yeah, I think it's safe to say that I've tested the limits of this exercise (and your patience) as much as I can for now. If you stuck with this all the way to the end you deserve a standing ovation.

Here you go.

Unfortunately, the answer is still no, you can't get those last few minutes of your life back. If you were expecting me to come to some kind of point, the only one you'll get is me pointing out that I warned you in the title.

No refunds!

The Voices In My Head.

We all hear it. The voice that tell us we can be more, do more, be better, go further, push harder... That is the voice that drives us to go beyond our limitations and sometimes we can achieve greatness because it pushes when we think we don't have it in us to take that next step. Let's call that voice "Drive".

But then there is that voice that tells us the opposite. The voice of "Doubt". Doubt tries to convince us we can't go on. That whatever it is we're working towards isn't worth the effort. We'll hear it say, "Who are you fooling? You know you can't do this. Stop making a fool of yourself! Who are you trying to impress anyway?" He's an asshole.

Doubt is just as strong, sometimes even stronger than the Drive. Sometimes, all it takes is that that one split-second for it to whisper to you and all the strength and motivation you thought you had  when you first started seems to just vanish. Then everything falls apart. Unless Drive can come back and convince you to pick yourself back up again.

These two voices are forever warring inside my head. No matter what I'm doing, they're there. One example is when I'm at the gym. I'd be lifting weights when, all of a sudden...

Doubt: You can't make those last five. You know you can't! Look! You're doing it wrong. I'm sure you are. Hah! Three more? You aren't going to make it. Look how your are is shaking... Dude! Wait! I thing you pulled something!

Meanwhile, Drive is there too, screaming in the other ear.

Drive: C'mon! You can do it! You know you can! Just this last five, Vinny... now four... now three..!

They're both really annoying, to be honest, and sometimes I wish they'd just take it outside and settle things once and for all.

Then again, maybe not...

Nowadays, as I continue to deal with the harsh reality of once again being unemployed, I'm faced with not only the worry of mounting bills and the feeling of diminished self-worth, but their constant bickering as well.

Doubt will ask me why I'm still wasting my time with journalism after The Paper fired me, or tell me I'm a burden for not being able contributing to the finances. 

"Just sit there! Watch TV. Surf the web. What's the point of sending out all those applications? All you'll are more crickets!" Doubt will say. (He contradicts himself, I know. But, like I said, he's an asshole.)

At this point, the other guy, Drive, will then rebut with a, "Ignore him! You won't be a burden once you get out there and start working again. And you will start working again. Just keep trying." (It's even worse when he brings out his cheer squad to back him up.)

And those are just a few examples...

Still, as annoying as the voice of Doubt is, I can't totally ignore it. Left on its own, Drive can be pretty much an asshole too. He can push you to taking chances you shouldn't and going so far you end up going over the  proverbial (maybe even literal) edge. It might look good on one of those motivational quotes to say "throw caution to the wind", but that voice of Doubt can, on occasion, be a voice of reason that keeps you from crossing lines you know you shouldn't. The hard part is knowing just when he's right.

A Case Of Murder Most Fowl.

This is overdue.

Remember back in December when I posted about my little issue with trying to get banana leaves for my wife's pastelle recipe? Probably not. But anyway, to summarize, a dove decided to nest in the banana bunch growing on the tree and I had to figure out how to get them without disturbing the nest.

Well, I did. I got the leaves and was careful enough to not only leave the nest intact, but  the mother, who was somewhat skittish, remained calm enough to just sit on her chicks and eye me cautiously. What can say? I gots mad skillz.

So we got the pastelles made:

I was supposed to take a picture of it whole but I couldn't help myself.

We even managed to get it done pretty early, since we weren't doing any sale orders this year. As I mentioned, we've lost entire nights of sleep making hundreds of these.

About two days later I went to the backyard to check on the new family in the bananas. That when I stumbled upon the scene.

The nest was on the ground and there were down feathers everywhere. You'll thank me for not taking pics this time. But, needless to say I wasn't happy with the situation. Neither was Mrs. C when I told her.

Who could have done this? My first guess was "Holy crap! SOMETHING ATE THEM!!!"

We have a lot of other creatures living in the area like the Zandoli, a lizard that scurries all over the place around here. They can grow as long as two feet, I've heard.

I had to chase this one from my mothers living room the other day.

But I found out they only eat insects so I ruled them out.

My main suspects became one of the neighbors. All the banana trees were mutilated and most of the leaves were hacked off for most likely the same reason I took some. We take our pastelles seriously here in T&T.

I may never find out who is responsible.

I know. This news sucks but I still felt I should share it

Paranoid Activity.

10:00AM

Editor A: Vinny, Curly called in sick. Want to cover court proceedings?

Me: I don't mind, but someone was supposed to go with me & show me around. Plus, I have an assignment for 11.

Editor A: Oh. We'll see what Editor C can do.

Editor C: Curly called from home already and found out there was nothing important going on in court today.

Editor A: Oh... Well go anyway, Vinny. Just walk and get the layout. You know! Talk to people 'n stuff. You can leave when you have to go to your 11 o'clock.

Me: Um... Ooookay...

While most people would have used this opportunity to go pay a bill or take care of some other errand, I am plagued by...

- Secret Paranoid Suspicion# 23: My employers, past and present, have me under surveillance. They track my every move. -

So, as a result, I spent the 45 minutes that followed that conversation wandering the halls of the courthouse like an idiot.

Since my phone is probably bugged as well, they're probably reading this post I'm typing up on it too.

All of this is normal. Right?

It's The Little Things

I was in the supermarket the other evening. I was in a particularly bad mood too. I won't bother to go into specifics but let's just say my mood was the end result of minor crappy events that I just let get to me.

I decided to pass by the bakery section to see what they could offer in the way of comfort food.

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As I checked the display case, I began to notice the woman next to me who was already there choosing from the pastries on display.

There wasn't anything particularly special about her. She looked in her late 40's to early 50's, her clothes were simple: a cream coloured skirt and matching flowery blouse. Her hair was short and brown she had on a pair of thin-framed glasses.

Nothing special about her at all.

"I'll take two currant rolls," she said

The clerk behind the counter grabbed a pair of tongs and reached into the case.

"Wait, I'll take the one on top and that one in the front row in the middle... please."

"Oh boy!" I thought, "One of those. The kind who just had to pick out the specific piece of whatever it was they wanted. I know it was just my bad mood talking but at that particular moment, nothing could irritate me more. Excuse me while I fight back an eye-roll."

"Oh!" she continued, "I'll have a piece of cake too. The one closest to me. Second from the left."

She pointed out the piece she wanted. The clerk behind the counter fished it out for her while I resisted the urge to let out an exasperated sigh.

Then the strangest thing happened. As the clerk bagged her goodies up, the woman who I had now dubbed "Pastry Lady" smiled, clapped her hands excitedly in front of her face and bobbed up and down. Then, as though she just noticed I was standing there, she turned to me. And her smiled broadened as she continued her bobbing and clapping. She wasn't embarrassed. She wasn't phased in the least.

And I smiled back.

Not in a patronizing, "Yay for you, crazy cake-lady!" kind of way. No... For that one brief moment, that woman's... glee infected me. Whatever stresses she faced in life, whatever cares she had, for that one instant took a back seat and she was able to truly appreciate this one small victory as if nothing else mattered. And neither did mine. Not anymore.

Then I remembered a quote by Emerson that one of my good friends on the blogosphere, Kelly, used in a post she did recently:


- “For every minute you are angry you lose sixty seconds of happiness.”

Seems so simple, but it's true. I thought about all the little things I'd let pile up into one big ball of glum inside me and realized that they were just that. Little things. Each, by themselves, nothing. I gave them the power that they had over me.

After her pastries were bagged up, Pastry Lady turned back to the clerk, took the bags, smiled some more and thanked her as she left. I left too. I didn't bother to buy anything. Strangely, I didn't feel the need for "comfort food" anymore.

This stranger I encountered reminded me that as much as little things can bring us down, they can also serve to brighten our day as well.


People surprise me sometimes.

Random Thoughts Of A Sleep Deprived Mind.

For those of you who have noticed my lack of posting this week, I've been in the midst of end of semester exams. For those of you who haven't, well... I haven't been posting this week... because of... exams.

I recently finished a final project for one of my classes which kept me up until 4:30am and I haven't had chance to get a full night's sleep since.

I think that is the reason I've had all kinds of random things bouncing around my head that I thought I could slap together were funny enough to make a post. Kinda like my old "Random Tuesday Thought" posts I used to do back in the day.

I blame sleep deprivation for what comes next...

- The other day I was folding a shirt when I realized it was inside out. The first thing I thought about was hitting the "Undo" button. That's when I realized I've probably been spending too much time at the computer. Then the next thing I thought of was to blog about it.

- We've been battling a serious ant infestation in our home. I think they're winning. The other morning they scored a victory by getting inside our electric kettle's wiring and rendering it useless. Don't ask me how.

- I learned the other day that two jumbo hot dogs are my limit. I know. I’m a total lightweight. I was able to figure this out very out soon after jumbo hot dog number four.



Not a good day.

- Up the street there's a yard with two really big dogs. I think one of is mixed with a smaller breed because his front legs are noticeably shorter than his back legs. I call him Dogosaurus Rex. He amuses me.

I miss those RTT days.


I'd say I need a nap but I'm actually about to leave for work. Plus, this is a six-day work week for me and I still have a Math assignment and two exams left.


Joy.

What I Didn't Expect To Hear Them Say.

I had no delusions when I started. I already knew that the hours would stink, the pay would suck and that it would be a lot of work. I knew all of that going in. I've accepted it as what comes with the territory in journalism and I'm okay with that. Even though a fat paycheck is nice I've always believed that, in the end, if it's what you really want to do and you enjoy doing it, then those things aren't supposed to what keeps you doing it. Of course, I say again, a fat paycheck wouldn't hurt.

When they said that, often, working well into the night was normal, I wasn't too surprised. When they disclosed the starting salary to me, I still took the job. I was a little daunted at first when they stressed how demanding the job would be, but I said yes anyway. In truth, I mostly expected all of this. What I didn't expect to hear however, when I submitted my first story was, "You write well... but you need to make it simpler. You're going to make the reader have to think too much."

Huh?

Correct me if I'm wrong, but that sounds like they're telling me to dumb my writing down. Right? When did I need to dumb things down? I've always thought of my "style" (if you want to call it that) as pretty simple. I'd even go so far as to call it juvenile at times. I'm confused, to say the least.

And another thing, when didn't we want people thinking? I've always believed that one of the problems today was that people didn't think enough. I say, make people think more. Get those cogs in their noggins turning, dammit!

But then again, I guess I should play it their way seeing at they're the ones paying me after all. This is going to take some adjustment. Thank goodness I blog! At least you guys get me, right?