Leeching Role.
WArning: rant ahead.
Okay, so. Is it just me, or does anyone else get sick and tired of all the roles that they must fill? Sound off.
Because I sure as hell am. We all have that list, and it can be quite a long list. And we all have that one role that seems to sporadically morph into a leech and take over our lives. For me, right now, it's CAP. Don't get me wrong. I love the organization. It's taught me a lot, gave me opportunities that I wouldn't have gotten elsewhere. But some days, oh those some days. It seems to permeate into my entire existence. It alters my life so that there seems to be no "simple Brittany," no.
I've been looking forward to this weekend for so many reasons. The highest on that list is that I get to spend Saturday with the SO, David. A pretty good perk is that I get to be that simple Brittany, with no other role, other than an anonymous 18 year old girl with her boyfriend among thousands of other couples, just like us, at Thunder Over Louisville this weekend. I'm driving two hours from school, he's driving two hours to Louisville. It's a rarity enough that we'll see each other; rarer still that we'll be outside CAP and free to be as we are: a couple.
Weell. Let me tell ya about the phone call that I just received. And you know, once I let the usage slip, it's bad. David just called, and he asked if I wanted to, as a CAP cadet, be an escort for an Air Force general at Thunder on Saturday. Cool opportunity, aye? Nay. Any other time it would be. But Saturday was Simple Brittany's day. Coincidence of coincidences, two cadets are needed. And of course David wants to do it.
In his words, he's torn. He wants to do it, and he wants me to do it, too, so he won't feel bad. I expressed my squeamishness to him, which was an instinct reaction. The kind of escorting that CAP cadets usually wind up doing is being a little slave, fetching this, fetching that, and oh, of course, schmoozing. I don't schmooze. I'm not wired to be a little aide/escort/slave/whathave you. After all, what's the gain? Feeling like scum, is what'd it be to me. Perhaps I'd get coined. But what would that be worth? You're supposed to earn coins. And how would I tell that story? Hey, I kissed some star'd ass, and lookie what it got me! Ooh, shiney!
It probably doesn't feel like that to everyone. Hell, I can think of several people that would love to do it. Calling them brown-nosers would piss them off. But that's what it feels like to me. Throw in the fact that it's taking away my day with my SO, and I'm feeling a little bitchy. I feel like I shouldn't be this bitchy, and honestly, put in perspective, it doesn't, and shouldn't be affecting me this much. But it is. I'm pissy. I can no longer focus on studying, which is what I had been doing all afternoon, feat of feats. Now, in about twenty minutes, I have to go to Japanese. And all wound up. Great. Fantastic.
Arrrrrrrrrrgh. Days like this, I just wish I were normal.
Okay, so. Is it just me, or does anyone else get sick and tired of all the roles that they must fill? Sound off.
Because I sure as hell am. We all have that list, and it can be quite a long list. And we all have that one role that seems to sporadically morph into a leech and take over our lives. For me, right now, it's CAP. Don't get me wrong. I love the organization. It's taught me a lot, gave me opportunities that I wouldn't have gotten elsewhere. But some days, oh those some days. It seems to permeate into my entire existence. It alters my life so that there seems to be no "simple Brittany," no.
I've been looking forward to this weekend for so many reasons. The highest on that list is that I get to spend Saturday with the SO, David. A pretty good perk is that I get to be that simple Brittany, with no other role, other than an anonymous 18 year old girl with her boyfriend among thousands of other couples, just like us, at Thunder Over Louisville this weekend. I'm driving two hours from school, he's driving two hours to Louisville. It's a rarity enough that we'll see each other; rarer still that we'll be outside CAP and free to be as we are: a couple.
Weell. Let me tell ya about the phone call that I just received. And you know, once I let the usage slip, it's bad. David just called, and he asked if I wanted to, as a CAP cadet, be an escort for an Air Force general at Thunder on Saturday. Cool opportunity, aye? Nay. Any other time it would be. But Saturday was Simple Brittany's day. Coincidence of coincidences, two cadets are needed. And of course David wants to do it.
In his words, he's torn. He wants to do it, and he wants me to do it, too, so he won't feel bad. I expressed my squeamishness to him, which was an instinct reaction. The kind of escorting that CAP cadets usually wind up doing is being a little slave, fetching this, fetching that, and oh, of course, schmoozing. I don't schmooze. I'm not wired to be a little aide/escort/slave/whathave you. After all, what's the gain? Feeling like scum, is what'd it be to me. Perhaps I'd get coined. But what would that be worth? You're supposed to earn coins. And how would I tell that story? Hey, I kissed some star'd ass, and lookie what it got me! Ooh, shiney!
It probably doesn't feel like that to everyone. Hell, I can think of several people that would love to do it. Calling them brown-nosers would piss them off. But that's what it feels like to me. Throw in the fact that it's taking away my day with my SO, and I'm feeling a little bitchy. I feel like I shouldn't be this bitchy, and honestly, put in perspective, it doesn't, and shouldn't be affecting me this much. But it is. I'm pissy. I can no longer focus on studying, which is what I had been doing all afternoon, feat of feats. Now, in about twenty minutes, I have to go to Japanese. And all wound up. Great. Fantastic.
Arrrrrrrrrrgh. Days like this, I just wish I were normal.