I think they should have paintball competitions where the winners eat well and the losers eat slop. If we ever do that, get on my team because I guarantee you will partake in a feast fit for royalty. Until that time, is there anyone out there for hire as an organizer for a clinically disorganized malcontent?
Sunday, April 11, 2010
Organization - Who Needs it?
I am disorganized - possibly to the point of being described as “clinically disorganized”. There is never going to be a time when I am organized. It just ain’t going to happen. I think, though I have no concrete evidence since it is technically not derivable that I would have been a high achiever in the days when you had to hunt to survive. I’m fast, clever, have very strong teeth, and respond to the hunger messages banging around in my brain. I think that a high ability to organize would’ve been okay to have in that era, but not nearly as useful as speed and cunning. Today, though? My hunger drive merely leads me to over eat easily obtainable over-fat foods. My cunning is good for things like Sudoku. My speed gene only gets me pulled over for traffic violations.
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Well, these are interesting thoughts. Organization seems to be a missing element in my life as well. I was reading one of your earlier posts from 2009, in which you announced a new (or renewed) dedication to your "singer/songwriter" self. I've struggled with a very similar tug-and-pull conflict -- worker bee versus writer. I thought teaching was going to be the livable compromise, if not the solution. But, it feels more like an honorable distraction. Teachers are heroes and martyrs, but I'm not sure that's enough or even on the mark at all. Don't get me wrong, I enjoy teaching . . . just open thoughts, I guess spilling onto YOUR blog. Anyway, here's the thing. If anyone asks, "So, what do you do?" You have to decide what your answer will be, just as I do. If I'm not careful, I say, "I teach English at blah blah U." But, if I think about my answer, I say something much closer to the truth: "Well, when I'm not trying to work a poem, I'm working on a story that seems to want to be a novel." Think it. Say it. Believe it. Be it.
ReplyDeleteNice note. I can wear this. That's the bend, the flaw. I can wear almost anything and feel comfortable in it. I can be dressed in green and believe that green is my color. Next thing I know, I'm in blue and - what was I ever thinking by being in green? I do know this, as crazy as all these parts are, in my day to day scratch and claw I'm painfully sane. So I'm proceeding from here as though distractions are necessary to keep to the raft afloat, if also occasionally honorable. I don't know how else to do it. The manual has never been within reach and with my bad eyes and wayward skull innards I'm not sure I'd follow it if I had it in my mitts.
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