I don't want to go to bed
Dec. 12th, 2004 10:25 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
mousmeIt's way past my bedtime, but if I go to bed then it means I'll sleep and wake up and the weekend will be over and the work week will have begun again. The weekend will be over.
I wish I found my job as wonderful as I found my weekends and my friends. My job isn't a life of quiet desperation, mind you. It's just stressful and frustrating during the bad times, and it isn't what I'd rather be doing.
I don't know.
I don't know that I'd enjoy all the things I do voluntarily if I were actually paid to do them.
Tomorrow I will post a long post (I love that: post a post) about how marvelous all my friends are. Because you are. You're all just so bloody fantastic you blow my mind.
See, that's another problem with the people at work. They're nice and all, but they're all kinds of vanilla. Limited senses of humour, limited horizons, limited limited limited. I told them in November: "I'm writing a 50,000 word novel in a month," and they looked at me as though I had just sprouted antlers. I wore knee-high rainbow socks to work, and they told me I was weird. I expressed a desire for a superhero costume, and they said it would be impractical.
These are people who discuss the price of outdoor barbecues, drive minivans and SUVs, have 2.1 children and mortgages on their houses in the suburbs. They don't read.
They don't understand when I march into their office waving a torn piece of paper and say: "Kim, it's not good when our office paper looks like it's been on the losing end of a fight with a pair of crazed weasels on crack cocaine! Look at this! It looks like it's been mauled by Kodiak bears in heat! Do you really think we'll be able to put this through the scanner?"
Mind you, this was all said in a lighthearted and joking manner. There was no bitterness or recrimination. I thought my metaphors were bloody brilliant. Kim, on the other hand, looked rather like a poleaxed cow. She had no idea what I'd just said. I was nonplussed at the lack of appreciation of my joke, and thus the matter was dropped.
Okay, I guess my rave about how great my friends are is happening now.
My coworkers, therefore, are very nice, worthwhile people. Salt of the earth. But they do not hold a candle to the freaking giant chandelier of brilliance that is my friends.
My friends stimulate me. They make me write novels and serials. They encourage me when I go line dancing, even if they think I'm nuts. "Hey, if it makes you happy," they say, "go for it!" They run games for me. They encourage me to run games. They play with me. They talk politics with me. They sew capes with me. They take me to SCA meetings. They teach me to cook and to bake and we exchange recipes. They RP online with me. They buy me snowshoes. They take me paintballing and fishing and canoeing. We go to movies together, and to the theatre and to concerts and to outdoor festivals.
In other words, my friends constantly challenge me to push my limits, and for that, I would like to thank you.
Without you all, I would not be the person I am today.
I wish I found my job as wonderful as I found my weekends and my friends. My job isn't a life of quiet desperation, mind you. It's just stressful and frustrating during the bad times, and it isn't what I'd rather be doing.
I don't know.
I don't know that I'd enjoy all the things I do voluntarily if I were actually paid to do them.
Tomorrow I will post a long post (I love that: post a post) about how marvelous all my friends are. Because you are. You're all just so bloody fantastic you blow my mind.
See, that's another problem with the people at work. They're nice and all, but they're all kinds of vanilla. Limited senses of humour, limited horizons, limited limited limited. I told them in November: "I'm writing a 50,000 word novel in a month," and they looked at me as though I had just sprouted antlers. I wore knee-high rainbow socks to work, and they told me I was weird. I expressed a desire for a superhero costume, and they said it would be impractical.
These are people who discuss the price of outdoor barbecues, drive minivans and SUVs, have 2.1 children and mortgages on their houses in the suburbs. They don't read.
They don't understand when I march into their office waving a torn piece of paper and say: "Kim, it's not good when our office paper looks like it's been on the losing end of a fight with a pair of crazed weasels on crack cocaine! Look at this! It looks like it's been mauled by Kodiak bears in heat! Do you really think we'll be able to put this through the scanner?"
Mind you, this was all said in a lighthearted and joking manner. There was no bitterness or recrimination. I thought my metaphors were bloody brilliant. Kim, on the other hand, looked rather like a poleaxed cow. She had no idea what I'd just said. I was nonplussed at the lack of appreciation of my joke, and thus the matter was dropped.
Okay, I guess my rave about how great my friends are is happening now.
My coworkers, therefore, are very nice, worthwhile people. Salt of the earth. But they do not hold a candle to the freaking giant chandelier of brilliance that is my friends.
My friends stimulate me. They make me write novels and serials. They encourage me when I go line dancing, even if they think I'm nuts. "Hey, if it makes you happy," they say, "go for it!" They run games for me. They encourage me to run games. They play with me. They talk politics with me. They sew capes with me. They take me to SCA meetings. They teach me to cook and to bake and we exchange recipes. They RP online with me. They buy me snowshoes. They take me paintballing and fishing and canoeing. We go to movies together, and to the theatre and to concerts and to outdoor festivals.
In other words, my friends constantly challenge me to push my limits, and for that, I would like to thank you.
Without you all, I would not be the person I am today.
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or does it matter?
Date: 2004-12-12 08:28 pm (UTC)t!
Re: or does it matter?
Date: 2004-12-13 04:08 am (UTC)Me. My very own, specialized superhero costume.
I am a fucking superhero.
Come on.
Re: or does it matter?
Date: 2004-12-13 05:10 am (UTC)And when you are not being mild-mannered (note the strain around my neutral expression) Phnee, by which name shall the good citizens of The City know you?
t!
Re: or does it matter?
Date: 2004-12-13 05:15 am (UTC)I haven't thought of one yet.
One of the drivers keeps calling me Daphne Duck! (note the exclamation mark), and that's created a mental block. It's unacceptable as a superhero name in spite of the alliteration because it uses the name of my —ahem— mild-mannered alter ego.
So I'm still thinking about it.
Suggestions welcome.
ka-pwinggg
Date: 2004-12-13 05:32 am (UTC)The Rocking Thing!(TM)
t!
superhero's name
Date: 2004-12-13 06:22 am (UTC)Re: superhero's name
Date: 2004-12-13 06:27 am (UTC)Re: or does it matter?
Date: 2004-12-13 04:35 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-12-12 08:56 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-12-13 04:36 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-12-15 04:24 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-12-13 01:46 am (UTC)Hey, did you finish the novel??
Have a good week!
no subject
Date: 2004-12-13 04:37 am (UTC)I didn't finish the novel yet, but I will be finishing it eventually. :)
*glomps*
Date: 2004-12-13 03:40 am (UTC)Re: *glomps*
Date: 2004-12-13 04:15 am (UTC)I so need an Edna Mode icon now. :D
And snowshoeing Sunday! Eee!
The only reason I'm commenting now is that I am waaaaaay late for work. I called in late. :P
I totally get it
Date: 2004-12-13 05:36 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-12-13 09:37 am (UTC)I WILL make it to brunch, I WILL... just gotta get out of bed on Saturday morning. It might get easier when kiddo sleeps through the night ;)
no subject
Date: 2004-12-14 07:55 am (UTC)