A long time ago - or maybe a couple of weeks ago, I dunno - I was reading Mimi Smartypants and I found out one of her biggest peeves: webloggers who post an entry to inform everyone that they won't be writing in their weblog anymore: that they have nothing to say, that the pressure has squeezed the joy out of the activity, that the rest of their lives has risen up like a tsunami of busyness and stress, swamping them amidships and leaving them at sea, paddling away and scanning the horizon for shore (as a side note, I tried to type 'shore' and ended up typing 'hoser' instead - how often do you get the chance to mistype so thoroughly that you end up with an anagram? And how often do you get to exhaust a nautical metaphor as thoroughly as I have?). Are you crippled by stress? Is your life running out of control? Write about it, she says.
Which is what I'm doing here. I generally resist writing about my current troubles, based on the notion that the folks who come here for the transcribed conversations and elaborate jokes aren't interested in my daily troubles. And really, I'm still not going to write about them here, at least not in detail - most of my current stress stems from work, and if there's one thing I don't want to discuss, it's my work. I'd hate to make some offhand comment like my production schedule is total bullshit or maybe I wouldn't lift a finger to save this show if it tripped over Niagara Falls and screamed all the way down that will come back to bite me during a review.
What really gets me is how divided I feel. At work I'm divided between one task and another, and when I settle on a task I'm divided between approach A and approach B. And always I'm divided on whether what I'm doing is worth the effort I expend on it - indeed, whether it's worth any of my effort at all. Entertaining cable television subscribers is not my idea of a worthwhile goal. Hey, did I say something about comments that will eventually bite me in the ass?
5 comments:
And I'm too stressed to reply?
For what it's worth I am constantly envious of you. I seethe with envy. Partly, it's your butter dishes, partly it's because my job is killing me but your job? I don't know, it all sounds kind of glamorous even the Saskatchewan part, but may be wrong in assuming you also have champagne with all your meals.
Most things one does at work are so transient but a TV show lasts forever. Or a longish time at least.
If it's any consolation, I'm a cable television subscriber and I say thank you for your effort, even if you hate it. Cable TV is what keeps me sane.
The "stress" of the typical North American is an unusual thing. Yeah, I'm stressed at work and my family life could be better right now. On the other hand, nobody tried to blow me up today, I have enough to eat, and I can go home to watch cable TV tonight, thanks to Palinode and his brothers-in-production. Do I even have a right to be stressed?
Ah, so usually in a situation like this I recommend a big hug!!
HUGS
My friend's in charge of casting in a large theatre and she wants to move on in that world but in the meantime, she HATES her job and the people and the politics of where she is right now.
I usually console her and tell her to keep an eye on the prize i.e. the years when she will be doing what she wants, I tell her this is the price. (Fame costs and this is where you start paying yada yada yada)
I say, look at me, I work in an office I hate doing a job anyone could do and I get paid terribly!
(Why that's upposed to cheer her up I don't know.)
Anyhow, she tole me last night, she is quitting at the end of April no matter what.
There are 3 points here:
1 - There is ALWAYS someone worse off than you. (Unless you're me.)
2 - Life is short, you have to make the most of it.
3 - This is the kind of response you get when you post about your troubles. Oh yes.
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