The Impossible Dream
I imagine one of these days someone is going to berate me for too frequently waxing pseudo(stupo?)philosophical, but hey! This is just who I am.
The end of last week was truly awful. It ended so badly that it's a wonder the weekend was so good. So rather than belabor rotten work, I'd much rather extol the good times. Went to the folks' for dinner on Saturday, finally got around to fixing the wiring inside the wall for the networking, went to Linda's and ran Jacalyn through a solo adventure so she didn't fall too far behind in XP and learned just how dangerous a striker could be, not to mention just how sneaky that girl's chraracter truly is! Visited with Linda, did some laundry, slept, woke and read much more Excel Saga, watched Pirates of Penzance with John, then it was time to go to the game. I need to find a way to mitigate a particular social quandry that only comes up once a week, and the unfortunate (or fortunate, depending on how you look at it) truth of the matter is that it's likely to work itself out either in the next 2 weeks or at the end of August.
Which brings me to the next point. I had a wonderful job interview for Bingo Planet over at Casino del Sol yesterday. On Friday morning I was really jaded and angry at work, so I just hit my job crawlers again to see what was out there, hit apply on one post, and got a call Saturday morning to setup an interview. They were afraid I was way too overqualified (I am) and would therefore be asking for way too much money (I'm not). Suffice it to say except for the commute it would be a wonderful fit. The interview went extremly well, and there is a particular potential opportunity for advancement that would be truely awesome. More on that as it develops in the months to come, hopefully.
Hopefully, which leads me to dreams (yup, time for the philosophy). Something that's been plaguing me for the last couple weeks is the death of dreams, or more exactly what the death of a dream feels like. Even small ones. I can't say that anything has truly hurt anything close to the first time Yemaya was taken away from me to California, and no dream since has taken longer than a couple weeks tops to recover from. That dream, though, took years. And I can't help but wonder if ever since I haven't been simply reacting to that pain. At least until most recently, when I'm finally in a place where I can start to face my entire past influences in honesty and really examine what was driving who I was and what drives I need to be who I want to be. This leads inevitably to dreams, both large and small, for the future. And fear, because I know intimatley what it feels like when a dream dies. And be it large or small, it's never nice. The only consolation is when there are dreams in conflict and one must die so another can live. Also the death of a small dream is generally accompanied by a very black, sorrowful night and then a brighter morning after the catharsis of the soul.
I'm finding I don't have all the words for the feelings on this subject, so I'm going to leave it off here for now. Maybe more later.
The end of last week was truly awful. It ended so badly that it's a wonder the weekend was so good. So rather than belabor rotten work, I'd much rather extol the good times. Went to the folks' for dinner on Saturday, finally got around to fixing the wiring inside the wall for the networking, went to Linda's and ran Jacalyn through a solo adventure so she didn't fall too far behind in XP and learned just how dangerous a striker could be, not to mention just how sneaky that girl's chraracter truly is! Visited with Linda, did some laundry, slept, woke and read much more Excel Saga, watched Pirates of Penzance with John, then it was time to go to the game. I need to find a way to mitigate a particular social quandry that only comes up once a week, and the unfortunate (or fortunate, depending on how you look at it) truth of the matter is that it's likely to work itself out either in the next 2 weeks or at the end of August.
Which brings me to the next point. I had a wonderful job interview for Bingo Planet over at Casino del Sol yesterday. On Friday morning I was really jaded and angry at work, so I just hit my job crawlers again to see what was out there, hit apply on one post, and got a call Saturday morning to setup an interview. They were afraid I was way too overqualified (I am) and would therefore be asking for way too much money (I'm not). Suffice it to say except for the commute it would be a wonderful fit. The interview went extremly well, and there is a particular potential opportunity for advancement that would be truely awesome. More on that as it develops in the months to come, hopefully.
Hopefully, which leads me to dreams (yup, time for the philosophy). Something that's been plaguing me for the last couple weeks is the death of dreams, or more exactly what the death of a dream feels like. Even small ones. I can't say that anything has truly hurt anything close to the first time Yemaya was taken away from me to California, and no dream since has taken longer than a couple weeks tops to recover from. That dream, though, took years. And I can't help but wonder if ever since I haven't been simply reacting to that pain. At least until most recently, when I'm finally in a place where I can start to face my entire past influences in honesty and really examine what was driving who I was and what drives I need to be who I want to be. This leads inevitably to dreams, both large and small, for the future. And fear, because I know intimatley what it feels like when a dream dies. And be it large or small, it's never nice. The only consolation is when there are dreams in conflict and one must die so another can live. Also the death of a small dream is generally accompanied by a very black, sorrowful night and then a brighter morning after the catharsis of the soul.
I'm finding I don't have all the words for the feelings on this subject, so I'm going to leave it off here for now. Maybe more later.