Tuesday, August 31, 2004

more rambling

Typing has become a necessity, a form of expression, a means of identification. Good day equals fast, heavy, decisive strokes on the keyboard. Clack-clack-thwack. Bad day equals slow, resigned hits. Today is the slow, resigned day.

Professionally, the idea condition would be that you appreciate your superior and respect him/her and his/her judgment on certain things. You just do you bit of the work and let others be damned if they don't do theirs. In this case, I am working under management I do not trust with regard to the management of a team. Wannabe-Manager and actual-manager are two very different things. Hell, I want to be gorgeous and rich, but at least I know when to quit.

Speaking of which, when is the right time to quit, give up on your dreams, assuming you bothered having any. When you're twenty-one and getting nowhere? When you're thirty and four minutes from arriving at nowhere central station or when you're forty and a long-time resident of nowhere? I suppose it depends. What happens, though, when someone refuses to give up and lower expectations? Do you break your back falling into the gutter while eying those damn high expectations or do you eventually grind the cream you're trapped in to butter and climb out to meet those expectations eye to eye? Not very coherent, I know, but see I've lowered my expectations from my own babblings. From now on, I do not bother to make a conscious effort to be coherent. Misunderstand all you will, world, incoherence will stay as long as I want it to. The little joys of life are great viewed one at a time, but accumulated, they're just sad.

Misha at Tuesday, August 31, 2004

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