Quote of the week January 27, 2012
Title of this blog? January 20, 2012
Maybe clicking on the image will give you a clue…
Adho Mukha Śvānāsana January 18, 2012
I started up yoga again. I used to do it pretty regularly a few years ago but lapsed. So I took a few level I classes the past two weeks and found them…lacking in something. Too easy? Not challenging? Boring. All of the above. And at one of them — all women–there was a lot of chatter going on amongst them and even the female teacher. I felt like shouting,. “This is yoga people! Not your book club!” But of course I was in Bālāsana or Child’;s Pose and shouting didn’t seem appropriate.
So then TODAY I took a Level II class with a guy named Kila who was about…50, Hawaiian with one hell of a body and unreal flexibility and in an hour we did headstands, shoulder stands, and backbends. It seemed more like a Level III class to me and he didn’t even offer people alternative poses. I’m a little disappointed with that. From my previous practice (and the fact that my best friend is a certified Iyengar instructor), I know that you are supposed to offer “modifications” that you cn do. A couple of the ladies in there seemed genuinely…injured. Wiped out. Pissed off. And out of their league. Seriously. I kind of want to talk to him about that but it was my very first time with him so…do I have the right to ask him? I knew how to do most of the poses but that was most definitely NOT a level II class. I’ll bet there won’t be as many gals there next week. Not even sure I’LL be there next week.
I have another Level II class on Friday with a different guy. We’ll see. (Yeah,. we’ll see if I can get out of bed tomorrow…)
Hawaiian advice January 6, 2012
A coworker (well we’re on the same uber team but we never really work together) fled to Hawaii just a few months before I fled to Colorado. Only SHE wasn’t allowed to keep her full-time status so she became a vendor, meaning she had the same job, same manager, but worked for a middle man. I, however, was allowed to keep my FTE status (for reasons I’m still not sure of) and it worked out pretty good until now because I’m not doing my old job, the one I loved and had passion for. No, I’m stuck in a job I hate, and didn’t apply for and wasn’t trained for. And it has great benefits and pays me a decent salary. Golden handcuffs I bleive they call it.
Anyway, this coworker and I had some email exchanges yesterday and she asked me what me dream job would be and I told her I’d like to write essays, compile them into books, and then read them live and go on book tours. Like David Sedaris only taller, and with a lower voice. But I do adore him. ANd his Billie Holiday impressions which is so exactly like the woman that it’s scary. And maybe adore David Rakoff even more. (He is much darker; that could be why. I’m drawn to cynicism and disgust for my fellow man.) And he is “battling” cancer. I hope he’s okay. I heard him on Fresh Air last year and he said it was the SECOND time he’d had cancer. Yikes. I should go check on him.
Anyway, L, from Hawaii, suggested I consider writing essays in the voice of kids my own daughter’s age, 9-1/2. “Tweens” they are now called (because god forbid we go through one second of our lives here on this earth without some sort of label). I like that idea and I’m going to try it. I wonder if there are people doing that now. More research.
In any case, I have to go back now to writing help topics for the next version of Word aobut things I know nothing about, such as mail merge. I can’t believe there are still people employed writing help topics (let alone about mail merge which no one gets anyway). Help topics just make customers mad. We all know that. Why can’t the software just WORK AS ADVERTISED. Gee, someone with the intials S.J. who started up a little company that had fruit as its logo understood that. It works, it’s cute, you love it, you’re loyal.
But I am glad that every single one of my coworkers is employed (me included). Except my manager. He’s a coof. (And if he ever read this blog–which I highly doubt would ever happne because I don’t name names–he would be so mad …and yet deep inside know it’s true.
Thanks, L.V., for the chat yesteerday; for some reason, I felt happier and more hopeful.
What am I learning from this? January 4, 2012
That I’m lazy? No, I am not lazy. That I’m scared? Well, everyone is, really. That movie “Defending Your Life” really drives that idea home and I think it’s true:” Fear keeps us from accomplishing and doing the things we really want. (Somehow KNOWING that and DOING SOMETHING ABOUT THAT are two different things. Huh.)
For the next few months I’ll be writing things that no one needs a college degree to write. And it’s not even writing, really. It’s rewriting. It’s…scrubbing. You have this floor. It once had polish. Then you had kids and they had kids and now the floor needs polishing. Hire the washerwoman to dust it, mop it, polish it. Oh, and maybe you’ll need to hire someone with a teensy bit more experience to refinish it.
That is what I now do for a living. It’s very easy and I get paid well to do it. It leaves me plenty of time during the day to get things done like walk the dog, take a yoga class, visit the rats (another post for another day), laundry, and maybe even grocery shopping. This just doesn’t seem right,
And yet, should I not be happy about this? Particularly in this economy (as my good friend Jodie continually tells me
as she got laid off from HP and then a year later was hired, as a contractor, to do the EXACT SAME JOB she was laid off for)?
Here’s the thing: I’m bored. And I have a good, creative brain that has lots to offer. And I don’t think this is good role modeling for my kid either.
Her: “What’d ya do at work today, Mom?”
Her: “What do you mean ‘nothing’? Surely you did SOMETHING?”
Me: “I taught someone how to turn off the spell checker in a really non-technical way because we’re all doing that now, trying to talk to our customers in a really nice way, a way that makes them feel like we’re human.”
Her: “Isn’t that what you did for almost 10 years as the Crabby Office Lady?”
Me: Go do your homework.