Had a dream last night that I was trying to buy a bottle of sparkling lime-flavored water and the cashier kept trying to charge me $14.50 for it. I ended up paying $1.65 for it, even though I suggested that maybe the price is actually $1.45 and that the decimal point is misplaced.
Very exciting night of sleep.
Had a dream last night that I was visiting my parents. My dad kept complaining that all our running water smelled like ham.
This morning there was an early morning fire a few blocks away. I woke up to all the sirens. It was hard to go back to sleep after that.
In January 2007, at 3:30am one morning, the apartment building next to mine caught fire and eventually burned to the ground. Two people died, and several others were left homeless. My building also had to be evacuated–smoke was blowing directly into it and risk of the fire spreading was pretty high–but we were lucky and were not displaced for more than a day. For awhile after we were allowed back into the apartment building, I was afraid. I wasn’t afraid that the building was going to catch fire; I wasn’t afraid of anything in particular. It was just plain fear.
Anyway, I’m not intentionally writing a sob story, but this is something that significantly changed the way I am affected by things and the way I think about things; it’s an experience I find myself thinking about fairly often. I’m assuming that’s normal. Hearing the sirens this morning, before I even knew what the story was, triggered some deja vu and restlessness.
The fire a few blocks away didn’t burn down an entire apartment complex, but one apartment is totally damaged and two people are homeless. I hope they had renter’s insurance. That’s one practical thing I took from the experience.
I never liked living in apartment buildings because of the noise from neighbors, but now I also don’t want to be affected by someone’s careless grease cooking. Sometimes, before I leave the apartment, I’ll grab something (typically my jump drive full of drafts, research, and some other documents) and say to myself, “it will be nice to have this if the apartment burns down while I’m gone.”
Last night I had a dream that included: alligators, flip flops, a family reunion, sugar cookies with rainbow sprinkles, a drawer full of blow dryers, and Super Nintendo. All of these things were prominent parts of the story line.
I saw a commercial for Pepsi Max the other day. It’s being advertised as “diet cola for men” along with “maximum taste, minimum sugar” (or something along those lines). What the hell does this mean? Are regular diet colas too wimpy for men, but good for women? Do Pepsi Max cans have images of naked people printed on the inside bottom of the cans?
I’ve been hired at a job I could do without a degree–and I think I’ll be perfectly happy with that.
The job search has been difficult for me, not only because constant rejection tends to batter one’s self-esteem–though that was certainly a part of the process, but because I felt an obligation to seek something “professional” purely because I have a Master’s degree.
The problem is that I’ve never felt as though my degree entitled me to any sort of higher pay or “respectable” position, and I’m not particularly attracted to the “professional” jobs that I’m currently qualified for. Attending graduate school gave me mixed feelings about career choices and academia and friendship and EVERYTHING.
I was extremely lucky to get into graduate school. A good graduate program. So good that the italics are completely appropriate. I even got full funding and great teaching experience. I wasn’t going to give that up–even when, halfway through the program, I really felt as though I was going to school for the wrong thing. I felt uncomfortable at just about every academic gathering; I wondered if I’d be pointed out as a fraud or have my intelligence questioned. I just couldn’t stop thinking about how I’d rather be quoting bad movies and drinking Kool-Aid than listening to conversation about something-something-postmodern and drinking wine and eating fancy cheese and mystery vegetable dips.
Academia is not that bad–I promise. But I felt it was very different from my desired lifestyle. Plus, I really missed attending dinner parties with normal food. I don’t want all these fancy crackers and cheese. Hello? Potato salad? Baked beans? Tofu on a stick just doesn’t make good potluck food.
Anyway, back to my main point. I spent a lot of my job search thinking that I HAD to find something more “respected” than, say, making people sandwiches or cashiering. However, I know I’d be just fine doing something like that. Is it wrong that my main job ambition is to do something that doesn’t stress me out when I’m not at work?
So this is where I am:
1. I’m going to be working a job that has nothing to do with my degree, but with a company with a good reputation and a mission that I support and want to participate more in (personally and beyond).
2. I am volunteering for a local, adult literacy non-profit. Ideally, if I were to get a professional job, it’d be in the non-profit world. This is the path I wish I would’ve taken for graduate school–but it’s not too late to take it up.
I’m far happier than I was while in graduate school. But, man, it’s hard not to think about what I’m SUPPOSED to be doing.
“Oh no. Don’t tell me Costco sells caskets.” He clicks and scrolls, “Costco sells caskets.”
My response after a few minutes: “What do people do? Buy a casket and keep it in the basement until they need it?”
There’s been a lot going on in the last week; however, all I want to write about is this scene I stumbled on today:
Male construction workers building a house while listening to “Lovefool” by The Cardigans.
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