Right after I moved into my house, I had the brilliant idea of locking my dogs in the basement while I went to work. There is a dog door in the basement that allows them to go into their fenced area outside – I was scared they would pee on my newly refinished hardwood floors if they had access to the upstairs. The above picture is my basement door when I came home from work that evening – the dogs were letting me know they were NOT fans of staying in the basement all day. After replacing the door (the new one cost $100 in case you’re interested), I totally learned my lesson. I don’t lock my dogs in the basement anymore.
What does this have to do with anything?
I’m feeling kind of blah lately. I juggle a lot of responsibility every day, and this blog is my escape from the world of work, homework, grocery lists, cleaning, and all the other things I just don’t want to do sometimes. Writing takes me to another place, and all that other new age stuff people say about writing. But inadvertently, I’ve developed a sense of responsibility about my blog as well.
Today, for instance, I am supposed to be posting about the changes I just made to my budget. It’s a pretty decent post. It has a pie chart and everything. But instead of creating something that makes me happy, I was writing the post out of this sense of owing it to the blogosphere to keep you guys informed of every financial detail of my life. And I thought, Who gives a shit about the changes to my budget? It’s actually pretty mundane, and I figure I can bore you with it when I post my roundup at the end of the month.
I don’t want this blog to become a boring place where I only talk about what I spend and save. Sure, that’s kind of the point, but sometimes I want to talk about other stuff too. And that’s why sometimes you guys get stuck reading my random thoughts and rants. Today I don’t feel like posting about some crap I feel like I’m supposed to talk about. So I’ll just ramble and you can read if you want – it’s going to be a long one!
Here are some things I would rather talk about.
iOS 5 and the rumored iPhone 5. I mean, have you ever SEEN so much energy devoted to a device that hasn’t even been confirmed by Apple yet? Every day, I see artist renderings of what the new iPhone might look like, pictures of these little metal gizmos that are supposed to prove that it will have a 2 million megapixel camera, and claims that it will bring back the dead (okay, maybe not that one). It amazes me that, even with all the people who are all OMG Apple SUCKS, no one seems to be able to talk about anything else.
Don’t get me wrong – I’m a huge Apple fangirl. I’m freaking out wondering when iOS 5 will be released so I can quit syncing my iDevices with my computer every five minutes. I will drool appropriately when the next iPhone is released, and will
probably eventually get it. But it just cracks me up that the world is holding its breath and we don’t even know for sure that there will be an iPhone 5. I think it’s coming, and soon; I just think we should all calm down until we know for sure. Cracks me up!
I cut the cable cord on Saturday. I was chatting with a Comcast rep online, trying to get a new promotion to return my cable and internet to $55 a month instead of the regular price of $120. The lowest they would go was $78. And I thought about all the time I spend diligently begging for new promotions every 6 months, and it just pissed me off. I don’t even really watch TV. So I called and told them I was over it. Internet only, please! Which will cost me $62 a month since I don’t have cable now, but that’s the regular price and not something I have to fight to keep.
As of right now, I still have cable. My dad (who worked for Comcast many years ago, before they were Comcast) says I will probably retain most of my channels because of a bunch of technical stuff I don’t understand. Basically, they can’t shut off all the channels while I still have internet access because they use the same something. So we’ll see if I end up keeping cable for $62 a month without a promotion. My guess is no, but I don’t really care either way.
I think I know why I like my new job so much. I can’t believe I’ve never figured this out before, but I am learning that I REALLY dislike being told what to do. My attitude is, once you’ve trained me, get the hell out of my way. Tell me when I screw up, but other than that, I’m a professional and I’m capable of working independently. When I look back at all the former jobs I hated, the one thing they have in common is some kind of issue with my supervisor:
- The crazy bipolar boss who literally threw pens and Post-it pads at us, screamed obscenities, and tried to turn us against against each other.
- The boss whose dramatic personal life (which she talked about constantly) made me wonder how in the world she was qualified to supervise anyone.
- The micromanaging boss who would grill my clients in the hallway after sessions to make sure I was doing therapy the way she wanted. (I mean, why didn’t she just sit in on a few sessions if she was concerned?)
- The pothead boss who, I’m pretty sure, bought weed from one of my drug court clients. Enough said.
- The boss who stayed in her office all day and never interacted with any of us except to issue write-ups.
- The boss who used to be my coworker, then became all weird and boss-like. And she had way less experience than me, which made it hard to take her seriously.
- The boss who had no mental health training and didn’t understand the impossible demands of my job.
Yeah. So now I don’t really have a boss – technically, one of the psychiatrists is my supervisor, but I never even see her. I work when I want, take off when I want, and I don’t have to ask permission to do anything. I do my job and I get paid. The end. And I’m finally happy at work.
The funny thing is, I never had issues with authority until I started working. In school, I was one of those suck-up kids who loved making straight As and helping the teacher make copies during recess. Every single teacher, librarian, coach, or professor I ever had remembers me because I was “such an excellent student.” So why don’t I feel that way in a work environment? I’m not really sure.
I’m not very crafty. Last fall, I bought an old 12-pane window for ten bucks at a flea market. I intended to clean up the window and use it as a massive frame for twelve 8×10 pictures. It will look amazing on my wall. So why is the window sitting in my garage with cobwebs all over it? Because I can’t figure out what to do with all the flaking lead paint on one side. I used a wire brush to get rid of the loose pieces, but I don’t want to bring it into the house until I do something to cover the rest. Like shellac or paint or something. But how do I do that without getting paint all over the glass? Should I knock out the glass (which is in pretty bad shape anyway)? Until I figure this out, I can’t make my awesome vision turn into something useable. If any of you crafty peeps are still reading and want to help me out, that would be super.
I wish more people commented on blog posts and/or emailed the bloggers they like. I know sometimes people don’t have anything to say. But for a blogger, it’s the most amazing thing in the world to know that someone reads your posts and is willing to respond to you. I can look at Google Analytics and find out how many people visited my site today, but I don’t have any way to know your story, what brought you here, what you thought about what you read… I don’t get to know YOU if you leave without saying anything!
I’d like to think that people come here because they get something out of it, and maybe because they find me mildly amusing at times. But many of you remain anonymous, and I never find out what you like or hate and what you’d like to see more or less of. So you end up with huge random monster posts that don’t make sense, like this one. Talk to me, people!
I don’t want to feel like a dog scratching against a locked door, and I’m sure you don’t either. Leave your comfort zone and post a comment telling me something you’ve done (or would like to do) that’s outside your daily blah.