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...goes unpunished. Have you ever been in a position where you offer to help someone with something, then before you know it one thing has turned into a dozen, and the "no rush" time frame has suddenly become "right now"? Out of the blue the whole thing has become impossible and somehow you find that you've become the bad guy for not being able to get it done. Makes you think twice about offering to help, doesn't it? How can a simple offer of help be translated into the understanding that you've suddenly made yourself available for whatever and whenever someone else wants; that there's nothing else happening in your world except their demands? I don't get it, I simply don't get it. And now I have to find a way to either get out with minimal damage (I suspect "unscathed" is no longer an option), or just keep my head down and plow through as best I can also while trying to minimize damage. No-win situations suck. I wish I knew how I get myself into so many of them, because then I could stop doing whatever it is! |
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Padded shoulders and glam rock |
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I've been thinking about the 80s lately. Everything seemed bigger then - the hair, the shoulders, the ambition. Things were in flux with rock groups playing with the gender boundaries and the image of the intelligent heroine cropping up everywhere. From Twisted Sister to Jessica Fletcher things just seemed to hold so much promise of enthusiasm, independence, and eventually a happy ending.
Today everything seems so pinched somehow. Women seem to be portrayed more as objects than at any other time in the last century; the only way to get ahead is to be a slut and grab onto some rich man who can treat you like crap in return. Everything seems to be about money, violence, and backstabbing. Happy endings seem to be when your gang kills more of the other gang than they killed of yours. Television is inundated with so-called "reality" shows that seem to revel in delving as deeply as they can into the cesspool side of life, and often encourage the people in them to wallow even deeper to keep the ratings up.
I don't know about you, but I have no interest in Survivor, or 47 Kids and Counting, or Let's See How Many Shows About Little People We Can Create. Give me back my Fantasy Island and Murder She Wrote. I have enough "reality" in my day to day existence; I want a little fantasy in my world that reminds me that happy endings aren't dead. |
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Who knew that getting fired would be the best thing to ever happen to my social life? I've spent more time out with friends and with my parents in the last three months than I think I did in the whole of the preceding year. I've got to say that I'm very grateful for this time with my parents. It's fun to go shopping with them, and for lunch at Arby's, and for coffee at their place whenever I'm driving in the area. Heck, I even rather enjoyed spending an hour watching curling with them this aft. I actually found myself cheering!! This is precious time (yes, even the curling), and I wouldn't have missed it for all the tea in China, or for any job on earth. I'm especially glad that I'm not missing it due to the job I had; it had become something unhealthy, which was sad given how wonderful the first 8 months of it had been.
I've also noticed that I'm walking with my head up for the first time in years. I hadn't realized what a heavy burden futility can be. Day after day chipping away at a mountain of expectations that just kept growing exponentially while the resources to accomplish it dwindled at the same rate. I think back to how horrible I used to feel 15 years ago when I lived on a tight budget. Having since had the big paycheque, and the accompanying futility, I've come to cherish the budget because it represents freedom. Given a choice between budget and futility, I'll choose the budget every time, because no amount of money is worth my soul. |
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