Caterwauling

Toes

Originally uploaded by dcwriterdawn

Whenever I question whether living in Florida is right for me, a sign comes along … this time in the form of a reminder that sand is an integral part of our dress code.

Reminds you that everything else is so much less important!

Was just reading an article in the NYT about “decision fatigue.” Not that this is a new concept, by any means. (How many of us stare at stock charts all day and DON’T walk away with “analysis paralysis”? Same thing.)

I giggled at the line toward the end that you shouldn’t restructure your company at 4 p.m. (A subtle reminder to those who did exactly that, at a frequency of every two months.)

But really, what spoke to me the most was how it affects us po’ folk, especially those of us who SHOULDN’T be dancing on the poverty line because we are fine decision-makers when it comes to other people’s business … but not when it comes to our own.

The concept of trade-offs fascinated me. I mean, I argue with myself at every hour of every day about something. Usually about food. And by the time the end of the day hits, I am so sick of substitutions for what I really want, and bartering at great length (whether with myself or others) about every possible outcome of every damn decision I have to make, that the array of choices, simply, kills me.

Yesterday was a great example. Took the UEOEH from outer space to her favorite bakery, whereupon she gleefully spent my Groupon (and then some). I was good — I ate healthily all day. But come 9 p.m., I was so tired of resisting the big-ass box of treats that I went straight for the chocolate-peanut-butter cupcake. I had half of it, but even that portion was big as my thigh.

Anyway, I’ve been feeling bad that I have some colleagues who work at night and send me e-mails then. But I can’t do it. My ass is off the computer at a reasonable hour. I’m up early and will give everything I’ve got when I’m around. But I know at the end of the night I am all about the, “Fuck it, do whatever you want” response. (Then they get e-mails in the morning with, “Hey, that question you asked? This is what I want.”) Why not skip the middle conversation and reply once?

Same with bowing out of a freelance assignment. God I have argued myself exhausted over whether that was the latest in a string of stupid decisions. My gut says it’s fine. My heart is willing to go along with it. But tell that to my brain.

But that’s the idea behind the article. That rich people don’t make as many trade-offs as the rest of us do. That they can start businesses and have them fail and just ride their little trust funds or ask the parents for the rent this month. Everything is life-or-death for the rest of us. One bad decision means a thousand other things to fix. One bad food choice today can lead to a lifetime of poor eating habits if that’s always the thing that goes to the bottom of the list in importance.

Blame it on the glucose if you must, but it’s good to realize there actually is a biological reason why the most mentally exhausted among us, who are responsible for everyone and everything around us, completely fall down on the job when it comes to our own health and happiness.

Just goes to show that life is all about self-preservation. It’s OK to make a decision simply by NOT making one. That big-ass box of cupcakes in my fridge may ruin my chances of fitting back into my favorite jeans, but if it keeps my mind awake and my mood somewhere above “suicidal,” then Michelle Obama had better add room on her “Food Plate” for frosting.

Of course, with that attitude, how am I going to fit in the dress I bought for this “toes in the sand” event? I already went a size smaller than I should have. Damn it, why can’t a racing mind burn calories the same way a racing body does?

The Whistling Oyster

Originally uploaded by dcwriterdawn

Blogging is my morning yoga. It really is. It is the one time of day, if I can manage to even get around to it, to empty out my brain and have my little “moment of zen” before the daily merry-go-round shifts into gear.

So, Hurricane Irene came and went. Lost power for about two hours yesterday morning. It was nice to text everyone, “No power. Cover for me!” And I admit to not letting everyone know right when it came back so I could catch up on my bottomless inbox.

I hear an old friend is moving to Baltimore, and since I’m slightly nostalgic, here’s another Baltimore photo. Not like a whistling clam isn’t appropriate for all life’s occasions.

All right, well enough of that.I’m drowning here in too much to do and not enough time to do it. It’s as familiar a feeling as it is painful, but I’m fairly certain that what now enslaves me will be the exact thing that sets me free.

In turn, I hope to help others with THEIR freedom, kind of like building my own Underground Railroad to finally let shackled, beaten, soul-crushed cogs-in-the-wheel see that illustrious orb in the sky known as daylight plus those twinkly thingies in the night sky that remind us all that everything is SO much bigger than the here and now into which we constantly find ourselves ensnared.

No pressure, or anything. 😉

Riptide Crab Room, Fells Point, Baltimore

Originally uploaded by dcwriterdawn

Well, I *was* missing D.C. till that lil event involving the debt ceiling crashing those earthquake-y things yesterday. Yoi and double-yoi.

Life’s the same at the ol’ roach motel here. I shudder to think I’m going to miss these days when they’re gone, because all I want to do is rip my skin off in frustration (and stuff down that feeling with copious amounts of whatever the uber ultra overextended space alien from Mars has baked that day).

I realize I haven’t made any witty observations on leadership in awhile. Here are two just from yesterday:

1. My new boss read an e-mail aloud to me over the phone in which someone used the word synergy. Then she declared, “I fucking hate that word. I am deleting this idiot’s message. We are NOT working with him based on that alone!”

(I think I just fell in love a little!)

2. So at this other job that isn’t so good about paying me, the CEO likes to send out e-mails. A lot of them. That don’t usually make any sense. So I delete them on principle.

Her new trick is to send out messages WITH THE SUBJECT LINE IN ALL CAPS. Sure, I *see* the e-mails, since she forgets something in each of them and hits “reply all” till her incoherence is thoroughly displayed. But I don’t answer them.

I just don’t think it’s fair how she introduces new projects (with no context or way of explanation about what’s expected), punctuated with, “Who’s going to own this project??????”

I imagine I’m not the only one who sends their invoices into the ether. I do the bare minimum because I have other things to do that sometimes DO warrant a paycheck.

One of these days I’m going to “fallopian up” (thanks Tom, for that phrase!) and say listen lady, you pay, I’ll try. Or … maybe I’ll just sit here and be grateful that I don’t feel the need to jump to do a project that no one, least of all its creator, understands.

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

Another day, another hope of a dollar. I’m having fun or, at least, trying to. But I’m reminded of a lady my mom met at Publix last night, who works there.

Apparently the gal was very friendly, and kind of sad. She’s in her 50s, like my mom, in a lot of pain and just trying to make it. Hmm, yep, they could be soulmates.

Anyway, the lady was saying how she thought by now she’d have a man, have a retirement fund, and basically just have it easier than she did her whole life. That she’s made it over the “hump” and it should be smooth sailing into her ultimate decline from here. And yet, she’s working harder than she ever has and there’s nothing left over for herself.

I was already depressed but THAT did me in. Cripes. You mean there may NOT be a good man at the end of this stupid road? (“Good man” is defined as one having a boat. Things like a steady job and adequate sexual ability are slowly sliding off the “must have” list because, well, YOU try finding that out there. I’ll wait.) And if I’ll be dealing with bozo CEOs forever, too? Shit, I should have tossed some razor blades into my buggy. For all of us!

The Horse You Came in on Saloon

Originally uploaded by dcwriterdawn

I was just scrolling through Facebook, as I am likely to do about a billion times a day, and realized how jealous I was that a friend is taking a two-week staycation.

Of course, it doesn’t seem like she’s actually *been* at home, but I found myself jealous that her job can actually be left for two weeks without the world coming to an end.

I was also just contemplating the crazy pay cut I’ve taken going from employed to not-really-employed. These days, I’m able to live on next to nothing. (Although tell me again why I pay two grand a month for this eternally cockroach-infested beachside fiasco…) And even though I make next to nothing right now, I am chained to this bloody machine.

That doesn’t bug (hah) me AT ALL. < / sarcasm >

Anyway, I’ve always loved having “vital” roles at wherever I’ve worked. But do they get my best? Absolutely not. They just get my time and focus. And as we learned last week, once that part goes to pot we’re all screwed.

Reminds me of working in/near the District. When a snowflake hit the ground, they said only “essential personnel” had to come in. I didn’t work for the government but we always followed its weather policies. And I was NEVER considered non-essential personnel. Hi ho, hi ho, off to work in the pseudo-snow in my little Chevrosleigh we go. (OK, so it was a Pontiac, but still — cheap American crap cars FTW!)

I need to become a professional drunk. Yes, that’s it. All this worrying and working is for the birds. I see why the rich want to keep their money. I don’t AGREE with it, mind you, but I wouldn’t want to part with “knowing I’ll have a roof over my head while I make a constant series of fuckups” either.

When I do become rich (and I will, mark my words), I look forward to making decisions without considering “pending homelessness” as a potential consequence.

As the houseguest says, I’ve done quit the only job that pays me. I’ve kept one that doesn’t and I’m putting 100% faith into my newest gig making me a millionaire.

And all I really want (other than a bank account that doesn’t play a laugh track when I log in) is the same kind of two weeks away from the computer without the world imploding that my friend is enjoying.

Soon, Goddess. Soon…

Tequila shot with cinnamon sprinkled orange slices

Originally uploaded by dcwriterdawn

The movie “One Day” is my new favorite. Saw it yesterday … cried so hard I couldn’t breathe … and read 75% of the book between this morning and afternoon. *swoon*

It’s the book I want to write. It’s the story I want to tell … you know, since it feels slightly reminiscent of some parts of my past. Just as long as I don’t suffer the same fate as the main character, though, I’d rather have my story any day.

I have a few thoughts rolling around right now, about how we’re all existing with whatever our second choice is.

We didn’t get the guy or gal (or both. Whatever) we originally wanted. A real shame since we lit up around them and laughed as though they were professional entertainers. There was always some fatal flaw that doomed it from the beginning. But we know butterflies exist because WE FELT THEM.

Then we go on to laugh at others’ unfunny jokes and wait around to love them as much as they seem to love us. We don’t have much to compare it to so we figure this is what a functional relationship is. You go from breathlessness over the one who got away and boredom with the one who stays, and at some point you wake up and hope for someone closer to someone who’s a mix of the two.

And we continually quiz ourselves on why exactly we don’t get all heady and dizzy. Are we ruined for life by someone else? And even those who stay with us aren’t necessarily reliable — they’re just unmotivated to continue the journey because they’re happy enough where they now are.

Back to the settling we also find ourselves doing — for as long as we can stand it, anyway — we settle for jobs that don’t light our fires. We suffer through the world’s indignities as though we have all the time in the world to enjoy it when things do eventually go right.

(Please, God, tell me eventually everything goes right.)

The moral to the story there (*spoiler alert*) is that you need your whole life to get where you’re supposed to be. But that doesn’t mean your bliss will last forever or even simply LONG ENOUGH. Ergo, one should shake a leg on that “becoming happy” stuff.

The dialogue in the book/film is truly splendid. I only hope that when I do get around to writing my own books, the humor in the situations will show through and keep things moving at such a fast pace.

This was a super-stressful week in life … one I don’t care to repeat EVER. Thank God Mercury leaves retrograde this week.

I also put a new personal ad out there. Got 27 written responses yesterday alone. Hmm. Was it that brilliant or are men down here as desperate as I am? (I think it was that brilliant.)

Either way, it’s high time for a turnaround. Planetary and certainly otherwise.

Key Lime Freeze, Key West

Originally uploaded by dcwriterdawn

“Only worry in the world
Is the tide gonna reach my chair.”

— Zac Brown Band, “Toes”

I keep watching my friend posting photos and “where I’m drinking beer right now” status updates from Key West and even though I only live a couple hours north, I’m so jealous. 🙂

It’s been a challenging week here. And it’s not even half-over. Chaos all around. I gave notice at an assignment I love but think it’s best to give up. Then I got a note that another job can’t afford to pay me right now.

I feel good though. I’ll live. Really, by the time you endure all of life’s little surprises, you can take the next round of them in stride. Just as long as I don’t regret any of my decisions, things will be fine.

Don’t think I’m taking the easy way out. I’m going for the “less money but working harder” route. And if, waiting at the end, is a lovely Key Lime Freeze like the one pictured at my favorite stop in Mallory Square? That’s all the motivation I need.

Card Sound, Upper Keys

Originally uploaded by dcwriterdawn

Yesterday brought a colossal, collective screw-up. And a series of sharp, shooting pains going from my neck to my wrist.

It also brought a half-bottle of dry red wine from Fabbioli Cellars that I got on an outing there back when I lived in Northern Virginia.

All in all, what happened was not a huge deal. I don’t lose sleep over this shit anymore. But I don’t take kindly to mistakes on the part of others OR on myself, even though I was in a mad rush and the boo-boo was understandable.

So, I decided to be upfront today and say I can’t do it anymore.

I have a Plan B. I want to do it all, really, and hope I can. But if I can’t, yesterday’s drama convinced me that if this ain’t the right time to sprout a pair of wings and learn to fly on the way down, I don’t know when it WILL be.

“The moment one definitely commits oneself, then providence moves too. All sorts of things occur to help one that would never otherwise have occurred. A whole stream of events issues from the decision, raising in one’s favor all manner of unforeseen incidents, meetings and material assistance which no man could have dreamed would have come his way.” — Goethe

Saying yes to that new “something else,” I feel free. I feel like I could fly. I feel like it’s only a matter of time before I’m NOT tied to my desk and can actually breathe again.

Look, I like money. And frankly nobody knows the subject matter or the processes or the nuances better than I do. But I’ve been staying for the money and also out of a sense of guilt. Yet I realized today that the best thing for everyone is to let someone else do what I do — sure, it may not be as well, but I can train them. It will be fine.

And it feels good to commit to something new. Not that I want, like or NEED change. Because I’m quite OK without making any waves right now. Had enough of those and I’m still seasick from the last squall.

But to commit to something … really, truly commit … is refreshing. Goethe said it best that commitment leads to providence. And it feels damn good to be on my way. …

Watching Kitty Porn

Originally uploaded by dcwriterdawn

Ah, my very first photo with my new iPhone 4 that I had to buy because my 3GS decided to DIE while I was in the Keys this past weekend. I was waiting till the iPhone 5 came out to buy that.

Oh, hell, who am I kidding — I was saving up for something else and then this magical expenditure had to take place. Fun!

I think I need to recuse myself from one of my freelance assignments. Well, I still want to meet a rich man who will let me stop working altogether. But failing that right now, I have this high-pressure gig that doesn’t require a lot of hours BUT it means being 1,000% on the ball.

And yeah, I’ve been making some mistakes lately. All honest ones, and certainly way fewer than the ones I CATCH. But I can’t take the pressure anymore. I really can’t. I like my rent being paid and all and that’s why I’ve hung in there as long as I have. But at what cost? I already don’t leave my house for fear of being needed for a fast-turnaround assignment. And I save everybody a lot of embarrassment. But when I miss something, the stakes are too high. And God really didn’t put me on this earth to feel like crap all the time. I had enough of that in my office days!

One of my old male acquaintances from my D.C. days is in Key West right now. A part of me wants to run right back and rejoin the party. But when I do, I ain’t returning. I can promise you that.

Well, I guess I have to go figure out how to clean up THIS mess since I made it. Yay me.

I don’t want to say I’ve taken on too much work. But I will say that I bust my butt all damn day and still manage to disappoint everyone for falling short all-around.

Now I know what it’s like to be a man!

Seriously, I fear my clients are lying there with that same “THAT’S what he thinks is good sex? Good Lord” disappointment-cum-utter-relief-that-it’s-over when it comes to my output lately.

There’s such an ocean between what I’m good at and what I want to do, and I constantly swim the Straits of Mediocrity to do a little of both. I get some victories and some creative outlets. It’s as much of a balance as I’ve ever had.

I have an opportunity to change all that. But … does that mean I’ll soar or come groveling back in the next three months?

I tried again to channel the Archangel Michael about my career path. I forget what I dreamed about last night, but I don’t think the answer was there.

I can’t make any more dumb decisions, you know? Made enough of those for one lifetime, thanks. Everything I have going right now is fine. I could stay with everyone for a while and be OK with it.

But … what if the road-less-taken ISN’T the one that’s paved with good intentions?

Right now I know I can’t do it all, although I try. But what if I chuck all caution to the wind, take that other road and I’m STILL not able to make it work?

A friend explained to me that Mercury in retrograde isn’t always a total bitch. That oftentimes, and this particular cycle applies, it simply gives you an opportunity to backpedal and review your choices with the possibility of changing the outcome.

What would I change, other than everything? Hmm…

Illumination from below

Originally uploaded by dcwriterdawn

I read this self-help piece yesterday on calling upon the Archangel Michael to help you find your career path.

So I wrote him a little note and went to bed in hopes of dreaming about getting on the right path.

And I dreamed that I was with a group of people who robbed a Kohl’s store. I didn’t take anything but I was very excited to get to look at the merchandise while the store was closed.

The King of the Crackheads was there. I think that part alone qualifies it for “nightmare” status!

Speaking of angels, it’s “wear purple for Caylee Anthony” day as it’s her birthday. That reminds me that it’s my niece’s 8th birthday too. Special little girls came into the world on this day, apparently. Le sigh.

Well, I suppose I should go get this day overwith. Friday brings a Keys road trip. Hallelujah for having something to look forward to, other than a career as a retail thief. 🙂