Epiphanies, Loyalty, And Re-engaging The World
So I think I've finally figured out my ideal prioritization of my energy and time allocations:
My People and Myself
Academics (Classes and Music and Research)
Other Individuals
Else (Organizations, large masses of people, etc.)
And with this discovery comes the necessary rearrangement of my energy and time allocations in an attempt to match them to my ideal prioritization.
I'm also finding myself constantly feeling rushed, like the kind of life about which Jim's Big Ego speaks in "Stress", but without all the neuromodulator:
I'm addicted to stress; it's the way that I get things done.
If I'm not under pressure, then I sleep too long
And I hang around like a bum
And I think I'm going nowhere and that makes me nervous.
I'm addicted to stress; it's the way that I get things done.
If I'm not under pressure, then I sleep too long
And I hang around like a bum
And I think I'm going nowhere and that makes me nervous.
Everybody's out to get me but I feel alright.
Everybody's out to get me but I feel alright.
Everybody's out to get me but I feel alright.
Everybody's thinkin' 'bout me.
It's the little things that getcha.
It's the little things that getcha when you weren't paying attention.
It's the little things that getcha. It's the little things that getcha.
It's the little things that getcha when you weren't paying attention.
I'm trying to cut down on my caffeine consumption,
So when I get up, I just have one cup of coffee,
And I like to have another cup of coffee with my breakfast,
And on the way to work, I like to get a cup of coffee.
I like the kind of cup of coffee you get with your donuts,
But I never get the donut -- I just have the cup of coffee --
And when I get to work, I like to have a cup of coffee,
'Cause I like to have coffee when I'm talking on the phone,
But it usually gets cold and I need to get another cup of coffee
And it's lunch and I have an espresso.
And when I get back it's not morning anymore,
So I have a diet cola and another diet cola
And by then, I'm feelin' fine, and I'm feelin' pretty sharp,
And I'm feelin' pretty wired and I'm getting things done.
But right about two, I get this little tiny migraine
And it starts behind my eyes and it moves to
The back of my neck and it moves to the bottom of my spine
But it doesn't get there 'til five or six o'clock,
Which is the end of the day, so I'm fine, so I'm fine,
So I'm fine, except when I have to work late,
When I have to work late, which I usually do.
I'm addicted to stress; that's the way that I get things done.
If I'm not under pressure, then I sleep too long
And I hang around like a bum
And I think I'm going nowhere and that makes me nervous.
Everybody's out to get me but I feel alright.
Everybody's out to get me but I feel alright.
Everybody's out to get me but I feel alright.
Everybody's thinkin' 'bout me.
It's the little things that getcha.
It's the little things that getcha when you weren't paying attention.
It's the little things that getcha. It's the little things that getcha.
It's the little things that getcha when you weren't paying attention.
I love to work, I love to run, I love to play real hard.
I love to steal little things from the grocery store,
Like a piece of bubble gum, or sometimes, I just
Stick my thumb in a peach and leave it there.
I love to work, I love to run, I love to waterski, snowboard,
Jetski, skydive, parasail, hanglide, rollerblade, mountainbike,
Bungeejump -- well, I mean I'd love to do these things
If I ever had the time.
I love to work, I love to work, I love to work, and after work,
I love to spend a little time with this woman that I'm seein',
Except we never get a little time to spend together,
So we call each other up and we talk about work.
But what I think I'd really love is to get all by myself
On a tiny little island in the middle of the ocean,
With just me, and a book, and a cellular phone,
And a personal computer in case something came up.
And I'd eat and I'd drink and I'd run and I'd sleep
And I wouldn't do nothing except swim all day
Except I don't know how to do laps in the ocean.
Where are the sharks? Where are the sharks?!
And there's this kind of anemone
That sticks in your foot and the poison goes up to your brain
And you die, and sand flees, sand flees! Yuck!
But actually, I think it'd be really relaxing,
Just me by myself in the middle of the ocean
And that's what I'd really love to do more than anything else --
Except I'd probably hate it.
I'm addicted to stress; it's the way that I get things done.
If I'm not under pressure, then I sleep too long
And I hang around like a bum
And I think I'm going nowhere and that makes me nervous.
Everybody's out to get me but I feel alright.
Everybody's out to get me but I feel alright.
Everybody's out to get me but I feel alright.
Everybody's thinkin' 'bout me.
Everybody's out to get me but I feel alright. (It's the little things that getcha.)
Everybody's out to get me but I feel alright. (It's the little things that getcha when you weren't paying attention.)
Everybody's out to get me but I feel alright. (It's the little things that getcha. It's the little things that getcha.)
Everybody's thinkin' 'bout me. (It's the little things.)
Everybody's out to get me but I feel alright. (It's the little things that getcha.) (I'm addicted to stress; it's the way that I get things done.)
Everybody's out to get me but I feel alright. (It's the little things that getcha when you weren't paying attention.) (If I'm not under pressure, then I sleep too long)
Everybody's out to get me but I feel alright. (It's the little things that getcha. It's the little things that getcha.) (And I hang around like a bum)
Everybody's thinkin' 'bout me.
Everybody's thinkin' 'bout me.
And this is not condusive to a happy or productive SpangleT.
So this means that "everyone else" and organizations need to go. Away. Bye-bye!
Kind of like "Pigeons And Crumbs" by Natalie Imbruglia:
Got to get back, got to figure out a way.
I'm losing my senses to you.
Where'd it go, the bluebird I should follow
Back home? But where is home?
Guess it won't amount to much.
Won't be long before I crush.
I'll stand in line.
Don't believe a thing they say today.
Seems we all get lost amongst the pigeons and the crumbs.
All alone, but I'm in a crowded room.
I'm sinking in quicksand tonight.
Pick me up and I'll shine across the sky
'Til morning when you color me in.
Guess it won't amount to much.
Seems to me I've lost my touch.
I'm back in line.
Don't believe a thing they say today.
Turn around and walk away.
Everything will go your way, I pray.
Seems we all get lost amongst the pigeons and the crumbs.
Got to get it in time.
Got to get it last time!
Don't believe a thing they say today.
Turn around and walk away.
Everything will go your way, I pray.
Seems we all get lost amongst the pigeons and the crumbs.
Don't believe a thing they say today.
Turn around and walk away.
Everything will go your way, I pray.
Seems we all get lost amongst the pigeons and the crumbs.
People and Self: Get ready for Spangle to be available for you to a much greater extent than she has been recently. I'm sorry I've been neglecting you. You don't deserve it.
Masses of Non-individuals: I'm sorry, but as far as my energy goes... you don't deserve it.
On the other hand, I epiphanied yesterday that all the people -- even the ones who distressed me that I hope to never again meet -- are not gone, not lost, still here, still mine, still a part of whatever love I have for the world, and still worth missing. And yes, I am ready to be reintroduced to the outside world, but I also want to implement measures to prevent running back into the apparently safe but unhealthy never-cleansed hospital of shielding myself from everything all distant-like and gray like that woman who is theoretically my mother...
No, I never want to go back in there again.
I hope I have the strength to face this lovely sense of belonging and attachment. It's almost terrifying; whether because I've been gone for so long or because I can't believe I ever was, returning is like finding a land of people with a culture unlike mine who speak not one word that I can understand... except that this will make me better able to understand... and thanks to my willful ambition and a few coincidental prompts, I've already achieved a little intuitive communication...
And though the pieces sound insultingly easy to the ear, my fingers, wrists, and arms are telling me that the Musician in me is pleased with my recent efforts. (I hope J.S. Bach is pleased with me, too.)
And though the film I developed for my mentor tonight absolutely failed, I know exactly how to fix it and I can feel a shift coming in the loyalty I feel to the lab and the work it involves. (Micropipettes and centrifuges just makes me ridiculously happy!)
And though I feel absolutely worthless tonight, I clearly have enough spark in me to write this entire post. (And accomplishment breeds the motivation to accomplish in a lovely upward spiral of positive feedback... like birthing babies... or like the ripening of fruit...)
Oh, yes --
It feels good to be home!
My People and Myself
Academics (Classes and Music and Research)
Other Individuals
Else (Organizations, large masses of people, etc.)
And with this discovery comes the necessary rearrangement of my energy and time allocations in an attempt to match them to my ideal prioritization.
I'm also finding myself constantly feeling rushed, like the kind of life about which Jim's Big Ego speaks in "Stress", but without all the neuromodulator:
I'm addicted to stress; it's the way that I get things done.
If I'm not under pressure, then I sleep too long
And I hang around like a bum
And I think I'm going nowhere and that makes me nervous.
I'm addicted to stress; it's the way that I get things done.
If I'm not under pressure, then I sleep too long
And I hang around like a bum
And I think I'm going nowhere and that makes me nervous.
Everybody's out to get me but I feel alright.
Everybody's out to get me but I feel alright.
Everybody's out to get me but I feel alright.
Everybody's thinkin' 'bout me.
It's the little things that getcha.
It's the little things that getcha when you weren't paying attention.
It's the little things that getcha. It's the little things that getcha.
It's the little things that getcha when you weren't paying attention.
I'm trying to cut down on my caffeine consumption,
So when I get up, I just have one cup of coffee,
And I like to have another cup of coffee with my breakfast,
And on the way to work, I like to get a cup of coffee.
I like the kind of cup of coffee you get with your donuts,
But I never get the donut -- I just have the cup of coffee --
And when I get to work, I like to have a cup of coffee,
'Cause I like to have coffee when I'm talking on the phone,
But it usually gets cold and I need to get another cup of coffee
And it's lunch and I have an espresso.
And when I get back it's not morning anymore,
So I have a diet cola and another diet cola
And by then, I'm feelin' fine, and I'm feelin' pretty sharp,
And I'm feelin' pretty wired and I'm getting things done.
But right about two, I get this little tiny migraine
And it starts behind my eyes and it moves to
The back of my neck and it moves to the bottom of my spine
But it doesn't get there 'til five or six o'clock,
Which is the end of the day, so I'm fine, so I'm fine,
So I'm fine, except when I have to work late,
When I have to work late, which I usually do.
I'm addicted to stress; that's the way that I get things done.
If I'm not under pressure, then I sleep too long
And I hang around like a bum
And I think I'm going nowhere and that makes me nervous.
Everybody's out to get me but I feel alright.
Everybody's out to get me but I feel alright.
Everybody's out to get me but I feel alright.
Everybody's thinkin' 'bout me.
It's the little things that getcha.
It's the little things that getcha when you weren't paying attention.
It's the little things that getcha. It's the little things that getcha.
It's the little things that getcha when you weren't paying attention.
I love to work, I love to run, I love to play real hard.
I love to steal little things from the grocery store,
Like a piece of bubble gum, or sometimes, I just
Stick my thumb in a peach and leave it there.
I love to work, I love to run, I love to waterski, snowboard,
Jetski, skydive, parasail, hanglide, rollerblade, mountainbike,
Bungeejump -- well, I mean I'd love to do these things
If I ever had the time.
I love to work, I love to work, I love to work, and after work,
I love to spend a little time with this woman that I'm seein',
Except we never get a little time to spend together,
So we call each other up and we talk about work.
But what I think I'd really love is to get all by myself
On a tiny little island in the middle of the ocean,
With just me, and a book, and a cellular phone,
And a personal computer in case something came up.
And I'd eat and I'd drink and I'd run and I'd sleep
And I wouldn't do nothing except swim all day
Except I don't know how to do laps in the ocean.
Where are the sharks? Where are the sharks?!
And there's this kind of anemone
That sticks in your foot and the poison goes up to your brain
And you die, and sand flees, sand flees! Yuck!
But actually, I think it'd be really relaxing,
Just me by myself in the middle of the ocean
And that's what I'd really love to do more than anything else --
Except I'd probably hate it.
I'm addicted to stress; it's the way that I get things done.
If I'm not under pressure, then I sleep too long
And I hang around like a bum
And I think I'm going nowhere and that makes me nervous.
Everybody's out to get me but I feel alright.
Everybody's out to get me but I feel alright.
Everybody's out to get me but I feel alright.
Everybody's thinkin' 'bout me.
Everybody's out to get me but I feel alright. (It's the little things that getcha.)
Everybody's out to get me but I feel alright. (It's the little things that getcha when you weren't paying attention.)
Everybody's out to get me but I feel alright. (It's the little things that getcha. It's the little things that getcha.)
Everybody's thinkin' 'bout me. (It's the little things.)
Everybody's out to get me but I feel alright. (It's the little things that getcha.) (I'm addicted to stress; it's the way that I get things done.)
Everybody's out to get me but I feel alright. (It's the little things that getcha when you weren't paying attention.) (If I'm not under pressure, then I sleep too long)
Everybody's out to get me but I feel alright. (It's the little things that getcha. It's the little things that getcha.) (And I hang around like a bum)
Everybody's thinkin' 'bout me.
Everybody's thinkin' 'bout me.
And this is not condusive to a happy or productive SpangleT.
So this means that "everyone else" and organizations need to go. Away. Bye-bye!
Kind of like "Pigeons And Crumbs" by Natalie Imbruglia:
Got to get back, got to figure out a way.
I'm losing my senses to you.
Where'd it go, the bluebird I should follow
Back home? But where is home?
Guess it won't amount to much.
Won't be long before I crush.
I'll stand in line.
Don't believe a thing they say today.
Seems we all get lost amongst the pigeons and the crumbs.
All alone, but I'm in a crowded room.
I'm sinking in quicksand tonight.
Pick me up and I'll shine across the sky
'Til morning when you color me in.
Guess it won't amount to much.
Seems to me I've lost my touch.
I'm back in line.
Don't believe a thing they say today.
Turn around and walk away.
Everything will go your way, I pray.
Seems we all get lost amongst the pigeons and the crumbs.
Got to get it in time.
Got to get it last time!
Don't believe a thing they say today.
Turn around and walk away.
Everything will go your way, I pray.
Seems we all get lost amongst the pigeons and the crumbs.
Don't believe a thing they say today.
Turn around and walk away.
Everything will go your way, I pray.
Seems we all get lost amongst the pigeons and the crumbs.
People and Self: Get ready for Spangle to be available for you to a much greater extent than she has been recently. I'm sorry I've been neglecting you. You don't deserve it.
Masses of Non-individuals: I'm sorry, but as far as my energy goes... you don't deserve it.
On the other hand, I epiphanied yesterday that all the people -- even the ones who distressed me that I hope to never again meet -- are not gone, not lost, still here, still mine, still a part of whatever love I have for the world, and still worth missing. And yes, I am ready to be reintroduced to the outside world, but I also want to implement measures to prevent running back into the apparently safe but unhealthy never-cleansed hospital of shielding myself from everything all distant-like and gray like that woman who is theoretically my mother...
No, I never want to go back in there again.
I hope I have the strength to face this lovely sense of belonging and attachment. It's almost terrifying; whether because I've been gone for so long or because I can't believe I ever was, returning is like finding a land of people with a culture unlike mine who speak not one word that I can understand... except that this will make me better able to understand... and thanks to my willful ambition and a few coincidental prompts, I've already achieved a little intuitive communication...
And though the pieces sound insultingly easy to the ear, my fingers, wrists, and arms are telling me that the Musician in me is pleased with my recent efforts. (I hope J.S. Bach is pleased with me, too.)
And though the film I developed for my mentor tonight absolutely failed, I know exactly how to fix it and I can feel a shift coming in the loyalty I feel to the lab and the work it involves. (Micropipettes and centrifuges just makes me ridiculously happy!)
And though I feel absolutely worthless tonight, I clearly have enough spark in me to write this entire post. (And accomplishment breeds the motivation to accomplish in a lovely upward spiral of positive feedback... like birthing babies... or like the ripening of fruit...)
Oh, yes --
It feels good to be home!