Life monitor
These characteristics sound familiar. Most times I think about my life responsibilities, I feel like I'm barely treading water. http://www.theatlantic.com/health/archive/2013/04/adhd-is-different-for-women/381158/ Focus is key, but I really really really don't want to take drugs because I'm so concerned about personality shifts.
I have half a year worth of daily activity logs piled up. Moving them here is on my to-do list, but it's not as important as all kinds of other things I do first.
Interesting stuff recently: Invented a new kind of kiss, went to see NASCAR, turned into a garbageman for my building.
What's new with you?
2001 was supposed to be the best year of my life. I was graduating from a prestigious university with excellent grades in what was, by all accounts, a valuable degree. Interviews were popping up all over the place, and companies were even flying me out to meet with them. I had met the love of my life. I was on my way to the top.
Life, as one songbird said, is what happens when you’re making other plans. The Y2K bug, the dot-com crash, the glut of people all pursuing the same careers as I, and the post-Clinton recession all blew away the job offers like so much dust. By every indication there was supposed to be a bridge there, so I stepped out where I was told, and found myself falling. I was able to secure a listing with a temp agency, but there were hundreds more like me in the same pool; the need just wasn’t there, and in many cases the people who did need help didn’t have the money to spend. I also did odd jobs here and there, but that only slowed down the leak; it wasn’t a permanent fix. The fact that dozens of offers were scams preying on our desperation didn’t help matters.
Despite the bright stars I started with, that began what was the worst year of my life (I hope, and has been so far). I was, by necessity, living beyond my means. I had saved judiciously (you can ask my parents about this one; they had to convince me to get out and have fun during college), but my savings account was rapidly dwindling. The only “eating out” I did was visiting seminars or church clubs that gave free dinner or lunch afterwards, usually about three times a week. Much to the dismay of my roommates (because obviously I couldn’t afford to live on my own) I found canned beans on discount, and ate nothing else for half a month. I probably only saw two movies in the course of a year (and am still behind on things that “everyone” has seen - probably no big loss). As I had grown up without cable, it was easy to give up something I never had in the first place. I only went to the dentist because my parents paid for it, and I didn’t go to the doctor at all - I was lucky not to have anything serious happen. No cell phone, those were still relatively new luxury items. I would have skipped the family reunion if they hadn’t paid for my flight.
And still, my debt grew deeper. A few hundred dollars a month just wasn’t enough to both pay for the things I needed to live, and dig myself back out. Worse still, my (hand-me-down) car ended up breaking down. Some people are able to make it work with public transportation, but I had to be able to respond to temp calls or interview requests (knocking on people’s doors is pretty much a full-time-job, and an unpaid internship nonetheless) at a moment’s notice. I had to have (as the interview form says,) “reliable transportation”, and I had to have it immediately. (Looking back, Zipcar might have worked if I lived anywhere near one, but it didn’t exist yet.)
Don’t even ask about the romance department. As you can probably guess, the love of my life wasn’t. Despite the fact that I have all these great qualities: Handsome, great dancer, kind, funny, modest, funny, I still had a hard time generating interest. I couldn’t afford to “go out” in the traditional sense, either to meet people who might want a date or to take them out to something nice. Relatively few people are willing to meet a stranger on unconventional dates, and honestly, I can’t blame them too much. “Poor” was definitely a hard selling point. And my mindset wasn’t right for generating happiness in any regard; family and friends from that era can tell you how terrible it was.
Popular culture had lied to me about the hero getting the girl and saving the day. I did everything right, at least as far as people told me, and still I lost. I will grant that it is possible that I overlooked something, or I could have moved somewhere cheaper (costs money, less access to jobs, higher crime), or I could have taken a job as a fry chef (less time to search for a job; probably stuck there decades afterward), or I could have started a technical school (two more years with low income, costs money), or I might have been able to move back in with my parents (already a bit tight and there goes the love life). But if we’re playing the “what if” game we can shuffle any number of other variables - small changes could have big results, negative as well as positive, and life could have gotten worse, too.
Sometimes bad things happen to good people. You don’t always get what you give.
I consider myself incredibly lucky to be where I am today. While I did put in the hours of good work to get from the starting position to my current position, I can’t point at any concrete action I took to get that starting position. I was in the right place at the right time, and I was introduced by someone. I met an amazing person by accident, not through any dating websites or flirting or any other intentional pursuit. And yes, it is valid to say that recognizing the opportunity and capitalizing on it is a necessary quality for some people’s success, but those specific instances of opportunity were flukes, completely out of my control, and some are just born with a golden spoon in their mouth. My spoon wasn’t gold, but it certainly wasn’t lead, either; college was (pardon the pun) a no-brainer for me because it was free, I had a network of friends and family who actually had the capacity to help me instead of having too many of their own problems, I was able to borrow internet access from the library (not everyone can), I had a car that was payed off, I had the aforementioned mindset, I’m sure there are others. But millions of people just don’t get the opportunity in the first place, or start at a disadvantage; and in a zero-sum game, the rules say that only a few can rise to the top, no matter how hard you play.
Now we get to the article I read recently “The Shootings Are Not Senseless”: http://gloucesterclam.com/2015/10/04/the-shootings-are-not-senseless/. I understand where they’re coming from. I am not condoning them, mind you, but I understand. Somebody sold them the lie of how the world was supposed to work, and it didn’t. That’s where I was, and there are still a lot more like me out there. Then they stayed in that place of resentment for a long time (how long has our recession gone on?), and then somebody else sold them the lie that “those people” were responsible for things not working out the way they’re “supposed to,” and that “those people” deserved to die for this travesty. Thankfully, I was still at least several months away from hopelessness, and have no idea what might have convinced me that violence was the answer; maybe nothing, but maybe not.
I can still point out all the times I was saved from hitting bottom. If any number of things had been different, possibly even off by a hair, I have to admit that my final chapter very well may have been written at one end of the barrel, or the other.
I have half a year worth of daily activity logs piled up. Moving them here is on my to-do list, but it's not as important as all kinds of other things I do first.
Interesting stuff recently: Invented a new kind of kiss, went to see NASCAR, turned into a garbageman for my building.
What's new with you?
2001 was supposed to be the best year of my life. I was graduating from a prestigious university with excellent grades in what was, by all accounts, a valuable degree. Interviews were popping up all over the place, and companies were even flying me out to meet with them. I had met the love of my life. I was on my way to the top.
Life, as one songbird said, is what happens when you’re making other plans. The Y2K bug, the dot-com crash, the glut of people all pursuing the same careers as I, and the post-Clinton recession all blew away the job offers like so much dust. By every indication there was supposed to be a bridge there, so I stepped out where I was told, and found myself falling. I was able to secure a listing with a temp agency, but there were hundreds more like me in the same pool; the need just wasn’t there, and in many cases the people who did need help didn’t have the money to spend. I also did odd jobs here and there, but that only slowed down the leak; it wasn’t a permanent fix. The fact that dozens of offers were scams preying on our desperation didn’t help matters.
Despite the bright stars I started with, that began what was the worst year of my life (I hope, and has been so far). I was, by necessity, living beyond my means. I had saved judiciously (you can ask my parents about this one; they had to convince me to get out and have fun during college), but my savings account was rapidly dwindling. The only “eating out” I did was visiting seminars or church clubs that gave free dinner or lunch afterwards, usually about three times a week. Much to the dismay of my roommates (because obviously I couldn’t afford to live on my own) I found canned beans on discount, and ate nothing else for half a month. I probably only saw two movies in the course of a year (and am still behind on things that “everyone” has seen - probably no big loss). As I had grown up without cable, it was easy to give up something I never had in the first place. I only went to the dentist because my parents paid for it, and I didn’t go to the doctor at all - I was lucky not to have anything serious happen. No cell phone, those were still relatively new luxury items. I would have skipped the family reunion if they hadn’t paid for my flight.
And still, my debt grew deeper. A few hundred dollars a month just wasn’t enough to both pay for the things I needed to live, and dig myself back out. Worse still, my (hand-me-down) car ended up breaking down. Some people are able to make it work with public transportation, but I had to be able to respond to temp calls or interview requests (knocking on people’s doors is pretty much a full-time-job, and an unpaid internship nonetheless) at a moment’s notice. I had to have (as the interview form says,) “reliable transportation”, and I had to have it immediately. (Looking back, Zipcar might have worked if I lived anywhere near one, but it didn’t exist yet.)
Don’t even ask about the romance department. As you can probably guess, the love of my life wasn’t. Despite the fact that I have all these great qualities: Handsome, great dancer, kind, funny, modest, funny, I still had a hard time generating interest. I couldn’t afford to “go out” in the traditional sense, either to meet people who might want a date or to take them out to something nice. Relatively few people are willing to meet a stranger on unconventional dates, and honestly, I can’t blame them too much. “Poor” was definitely a hard selling point. And my mindset wasn’t right for generating happiness in any regard; family and friends from that era can tell you how terrible it was.
Popular culture had lied to me about the hero getting the girl and saving the day. I did everything right, at least as far as people told me, and still I lost. I will grant that it is possible that I overlooked something, or I could have moved somewhere cheaper (costs money, less access to jobs, higher crime), or I could have taken a job as a fry chef (less time to search for a job; probably stuck there decades afterward), or I could have started a technical school (two more years with low income, costs money), or I might have been able to move back in with my parents (already a bit tight and there goes the love life). But if we’re playing the “what if” game we can shuffle any number of other variables - small changes could have big results, negative as well as positive, and life could have gotten worse, too.
Sometimes bad things happen to good people. You don’t always get what you give.
I consider myself incredibly lucky to be where I am today. While I did put in the hours of good work to get from the starting position to my current position, I can’t point at any concrete action I took to get that starting position. I was in the right place at the right time, and I was introduced by someone. I met an amazing person by accident, not through any dating websites or flirting or any other intentional pursuit. And yes, it is valid to say that recognizing the opportunity and capitalizing on it is a necessary quality for some people’s success, but those specific instances of opportunity were flukes, completely out of my control, and some are just born with a golden spoon in their mouth. My spoon wasn’t gold, but it certainly wasn’t lead, either; college was (pardon the pun) a no-brainer for me because it was free, I had a network of friends and family who actually had the capacity to help me instead of having too many of their own problems, I was able to borrow internet access from the library (not everyone can), I had a car that was payed off, I had the aforementioned mindset, I’m sure there are others. But millions of people just don’t get the opportunity in the first place, or start at a disadvantage; and in a zero-sum game, the rules say that only a few can rise to the top, no matter how hard you play.
Now we get to the article I read recently “The Shootings Are Not Senseless”: http://gloucesterclam.com/2015/10/04/the-shootings-are-not-senseless/. I understand where they’re coming from. I am not condoning them, mind you, but I understand. Somebody sold them the lie of how the world was supposed to work, and it didn’t. That’s where I was, and there are still a lot more like me out there. Then they stayed in that place of resentment for a long time (how long has our recession gone on?), and then somebody else sold them the lie that “those people” were responsible for things not working out the way they’re “supposed to,” and that “those people” deserved to die for this travesty. Thankfully, I was still at least several months away from hopelessness, and have no idea what might have convinced me that violence was the answer; maybe nothing, but maybe not.
I can still point out all the times I was saved from hitting bottom. If any number of things had been different, possibly even off by a hair, I have to admit that my final chapter very well may have been written at one end of the barrel, or the other.