One layer

>> Sunday, October 18, 2009

A number of terms have been tossed around which I find more confusing when used by other people to describe certain aspects of me than when I examine them in an attempt to understand myself.

It is cold, and I am constantly reminding myself that a moment ago I was not sad, and nothing has changed. Therefore my mind is making me sad, or I am making myself sad. Some of the time this is effective. The rest of the time- including now- I accept it and wait.

Sloughing off the job I've just left, in the sense of the way in which I envision my life in general, feels somehow both significant and superficial. A small but vital improvement, since it was growing increasingly difficult for me to cope with everything it entailed: the confusion of supervisors, the disorganization, the screams and threats and abuse from patients and staff alike, the incessant and ridiculous dependence of co-workers on me for knowledge they never bothered to acquire, the apparent expectation that I would train a far-better-compensated man to do my job so that he could tell me I was doing my job incorrectly, and so very much more. The load is slightly lessened; most of those things are not factors in my new position.

Hope is present, even if I can't see it clearly.

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A word

Assuming I ever get around to having any, opinions expressed here are my own, whilst ideas are typically the illegitimate children of the last several things I've read. Viewer discretion advised in the case of uploaded self-portraits. Do not bother to fold, spindle, or mutilate the contents, as I can adequately do so myself without assistance. At almost all times, my tongue is firmly in cheek- I don't take myself terribly seriously even when my subject matter is serious, and any reader would be advised not to, either. React as you like, but I consider this to be the equivalent of practicing the cello at home near a slightly-opened window. You are welcome to stop and listen, but I play for myself.

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