I decided today, today would be a good day to go and see where I will be working on Monday. I had a phone interview, followed by a phone offer and a phone acceptance - and from then on it's been e-mail communication all the way. I was hoping this would translate into a phone job. I was not so lucky.
Work is only about 20 miles away (in DC traffic, that's roughly an hour, and I'm not jew-zaggerating). The parking garage has an 'early bird special' if you park before 8:30 for the whole day. And hey, I have a *daily meeting* at 8:30, so I'm set! I think the best part is that, this Monday, I've been told to bring my own lunch. We'll be having a meeting during lunch on legal research.
No pay, long hours, and not even a lunch break. Welcome to the world of non-profits.
-M.
Saturday, May 31, 2008
Friday, May 30, 2008
Think Fast!
As I reflect on this past week, the soundtrack the Nationwide Auto Insurance commercials keeps playing in my head -- a deep voice repeating, "Life comes at you fast," just as two cars collide (or, in my favorite commercial, simply fly off of a cliff). This short sound bite is probably sufficient to describe my life at the moment. In spite of that, let me continue to ramble.
Two weeks ago, I was a college student. I woke up and went to bed when I pleased, and I was the only one who suffered the consequences of any resulting sleep deprivation. I walked everywhere or, when I was particularly lazy, I drove a measly five minutes and parked somewhere for free. I went by my first name. I peppered my days with random appointments--coffee shop dates with friends, meetings with advisers, errands, naps, quiet time alone--all scheduled neatly in my day planner, just to increase my sense of control over my life. And, in the midst of it all, I claimed to be (and actually felt) stressed, tired, and yet delightfully grown-up.
In this past week, I feel like all of that freedom and the resulting self-importance and imaginary adulthood has vanished in the swarm of reality. I suddenly find myself in the "adult world," where it feels like my own agency is indeed very small. I am now a commuter--it takes me 30 minutes each way to get to work, and I drive down the same crowded highways, pay the same $5/day tolls, listen the same morning radio shows, and sip the same iced coffee (ok, I lied, I make mine at home) as all of those other people. I started to complain to my mom this evening about rush hour traffic, only to realize that I am no longer an innocent bystander trapped in the midst of the chaos--I am the cause of rush hour traffic. Not only that, but I have very little control over my day planner. I arrive at work, and there is an email in my Inbox waiting for me with my agenda for the day. Errands are no longer a random and spur-of-the-moment diversion; rather, they must be planned with what I can only imagine is the precision of a covert military operation. (In fact, Jed, maybe you can help me try to figure out how a teacher who works 7-5, Monday through Friday, makes time to be at the apartment to meet the cable and internet installation guy, who also works 7-5, Monday through Friday). I go to bed at 10 in a desperate attempt to mitigate the harsh effects of the 5:30 am alarm; thus far, it hasn't worked, but I'm told that's "social jet lag" and it will pass. Casual coffee dates with friends have been replaced by urgent coffee runs for coworkers before the afternoon staff meeting. Most importantly, my first name is gone; I now exist on a last-name basis. This last change, I believe, is supposed to make me feel more like the adult that I suddenly am, but I feel more like a child playing dress-up in grown-up clothes that don't quite fit.
I re-read this and it sounds incredibly depressing. I'm not actually meaning to sound that way. I think "shock" is probably a better word for the emotion I'm feeling right now. Much like the poor drivers in the Nationwide commercials, life came at me fast, I've been hit head on, and I am in shock. Unlike the drivers in the commercials, however, I vaguely knew this was coming. I even chose it. And I am looking forward to the day, sometime in the near future, when I will continue living this life and it will no longer be shocking. In fact, I fully expect for it to be good, just in an entirely different way than my life has been good for the past 23 years.
I'll have more specific updates related to my job soon, although I should probably clarify that for the sake of my own employment status within the school system as well as child protection laws, I won't be able to post many identifying details about who I am/where I am/with whom I'm working. I'm sure there will be plenty of sufficiently non-identifying stories to share, though. Looking forward to hearing yours--and if any of you wants to come up next week and meet the cable guy, you're more than welcome to my couch and some homemade iced coffee while you wait!
Two weeks ago, I was a college student. I woke up and went to bed when I pleased, and I was the only one who suffered the consequences of any resulting sleep deprivation. I walked everywhere or, when I was particularly lazy, I drove a measly five minutes and parked somewhere for free. I went by my first name. I peppered my days with random appointments--coffee shop dates with friends, meetings with advisers, errands, naps, quiet time alone--all scheduled neatly in my day planner, just to increase my sense of control over my life. And, in the midst of it all, I claimed to be (and actually felt) stressed, tired, and yet delightfully grown-up.
In this past week, I feel like all of that freedom and the resulting self-importance and imaginary adulthood has vanished in the swarm of reality. I suddenly find myself in the "adult world," where it feels like my own agency is indeed very small. I am now a commuter--it takes me 30 minutes each way to get to work, and I drive down the same crowded highways, pay the same $5/day tolls, listen the same morning radio shows, and sip the same iced coffee (ok, I lied, I make mine at home) as all of those other people. I started to complain to my mom this evening about rush hour traffic, only to realize that I am no longer an innocent bystander trapped in the midst of the chaos--I am the cause of rush hour traffic. Not only that, but I have very little control over my day planner. I arrive at work, and there is an email in my Inbox waiting for me with my agenda for the day. Errands are no longer a random and spur-of-the-moment diversion; rather, they must be planned with what I can only imagine is the precision of a covert military operation. (In fact, Jed, maybe you can help me try to figure out how a teacher who works 7-5, Monday through Friday, makes time to be at the apartment to meet the cable and internet installation guy, who also works 7-5, Monday through Friday). I go to bed at 10 in a desperate attempt to mitigate the harsh effects of the 5:30 am alarm; thus far, it hasn't worked, but I'm told that's "social jet lag" and it will pass. Casual coffee dates with friends have been replaced by urgent coffee runs for coworkers before the afternoon staff meeting. Most importantly, my first name is gone; I now exist on a last-name basis. This last change, I believe, is supposed to make me feel more like the adult that I suddenly am, but I feel more like a child playing dress-up in grown-up clothes that don't quite fit.
I re-read this and it sounds incredibly depressing. I'm not actually meaning to sound that way. I think "shock" is probably a better word for the emotion I'm feeling right now. Much like the poor drivers in the Nationwide commercials, life came at me fast, I've been hit head on, and I am in shock. Unlike the drivers in the commercials, however, I vaguely knew this was coming. I even chose it. And I am looking forward to the day, sometime in the near future, when I will continue living this life and it will no longer be shocking. In fact, I fully expect for it to be good, just in an entirely different way than my life has been good for the past 23 years.
I'll have more specific updates related to my job soon, although I should probably clarify that for the sake of my own employment status within the school system as well as child protection laws, I won't be able to post many identifying details about who I am/where I am/with whom I'm working. I'm sure there will be plenty of sufficiently non-identifying stories to share, though. Looking forward to hearing yours--and if any of you wants to come up next week and meet the cable guy, you're more than welcome to my couch and some homemade iced coffee while you wait!
Wednesday, May 28, 2008
Hello, world!
Welcome, authors, to Diasporatic: the blog of our lives. We are about to embark on a journey which will change us all and the world for the bester. This blog is being founded upon the classical belief that true virtue can only be achieved if one accurately remembers and reflectively considers one’s past. We hope that this blog will be an instrument to that end for all of us collectively.
Ask yourself: what does the bestest of all possible worlds look like? Ask yourself: how am I working to bring that bester world about? Ask yourself these questions, and when you find the answers, write them in this blog. That is our vision. Will you join us?
~ Jed
In all seriousness, we started this blog for two simple reasons. First, we love you all and want us to stay involved in each others’ lives! Even now, it’s clear that college has marked a turning point in our lives; the friendships we’ve developed are far too important to let slide. Please write freely and often – sometimes, just sharing bits of your everyday lives brings people closer. Secondly, we’re all embarking on wildly diverse career paths – thus, we’ve been presented a unique opportunity. We’re fully confident that everyone will rise to the top of their chosen fields; can you imagine how exciting it will be to continue to trade ideas years in the future? We’ve all contributed to each others’ successes thus far; let’s keep it up!
~ Michelle
P.S. We are drunk. But that doesn’t mean that this shit isn’t important!
Love,
Jed and Michelle
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