Well somehow, I'm still hitting 37 hours this pay period despite skipping president's day, and hardly doing anything on Thursday, where our city was hit with roughly 5-6 inches of snow. Maybe because I'm counting today, where I inflated my workday by about half an hour. That's all done.
I'm gonna make rent! Now I just have to hang out here and look busy for another six hours, and I'll be free to work on that paper...or get some rest. I stayed up late last night but had a lot of fun. I decided to kick it old-school and smoke up campfire style. I laid under both of my blankets and ensured there was no way for light or air to pass through, and smoked the rest of the bowl I had loaded. Then I layed out, listening to the dreampop and constant whirr of my room's heater in the background. Does well to smudge out the background noises and voices downstairs. I want to edit some of the blog post I wrote last night. It felt like I had something going on there, but I'm going to bet most of it was hufflepuff. But I felt so energized last night!
Flirting does that to you. At that concert last night I thought a lot about my relationship, and how I could rationalize cheating on my girlfriend as this is my first real relationship, I'm allowed some...trial and error. That's cute. That's a real cute excuse. But I'd still be the shit head in the situation.
But it would be empowering. Dostoevsky wrote in the Possessed about how suicide was man's ultimate expression of autonomy against God, well I suppose consciously cheating is the same thing for a relationship. Or I could just tell her the truth after the fact and see what would become of it. Honestly, I think she wouldn't be strong enough to dump me for it. Maybe she would just shun me for a few days, be broken hearted, then I'd saunter in, make some "cute" jokes, and win her back.
I was also thinking, how would I feel if she cheated on me? And I think it would just make me want to have her more, as it would bring recognition to its (the relationship's) ultimate fleetingness. Neither of us are going to stay together forever, so what difference does it make? But I also recognize what's wrong with this situation. Don't fuck with a sensitive girl's feelings. Don't do it, don't hurt her, she doesn't deserve that.
Hmm.. OK. So I can cheat on her, and as long as she doesn't find out, it's OK. No! That's even worse. I'd lose the virtue of candour and I couldn't actually say I "acted in my fullest autonomy to defy the boundaries of the relationship." But that's silly, stupidly more philosophical than I analyze anything I do, and is rationally superfluous to think about it like that. But that's all I'm doing, overthinking what I probably won't do. I might just be hitting that wall again, when I was first hesitant to be part of this entity. Committment vs non-committment. Well, I'll let you guys know what happens. Not that I really have a choice anyway.
joke life
Showing posts with label work. Show all posts
Showing posts with label work. Show all posts
Monday, February 28, 2011
asdf 2/28
we're not happy til we're running away
clouds in your eyes
with nothing but the foggiest day
such a pretty song.
saw them play today.
it was fun.
dormant thoughts about the components of a film review. listened to the album and considered it by breaking up by different musical elements: the vocals, the synth, the lead guitar, rhythm, vocals, bass, drumming, energy, tone, genre or subgenre, the season evoked, the year of its release, the time of its release, the political atmosphere of the world at the time of its release... that sort of thing. disregard the last part.
can't sleep. i told myself it doesn't even matter how many hours of sleep i get tomorrow, i'll feel like shit anyway without coffee. and then once i have the coffee i'll realize I still feel like shit. my favorite professor here (whom i currently have) said there was this uncanny effect where a person will take on the persona of their job, internalize their responsibilities there subconsciously, and will assume the identity of that job's role. I hope this only applies while they're on the job, and not all the time. But it would certainly explain the gap between the rich and poor in this country. But then it undergoes the chicken and the egg question: do the wealthy exude a certain personality, or are they wealthy because they act "wealthy"? And then you have to consider where the wealth comes from - is it old money or new money? This makes me realize I have veered off the path I was going with my initial idea (of this paragraph) - do I feel shitty because my job is shitty? Or is my job shitty because I'm shitty? Or is this just a 1st-world problem (I work in an office) as I'm shitty for not realizing how grateful I should be to work this job? As so many people, including my father, are out of work right now and my rate of pay couldn't be beat with my student status and my city's local economy...shouldn't I work each moment with pride and apprecitation, dutifully? Nah, fuck it, school is more important and I should do the most dicking around as possible in these early years of employment because it's almost impossible for me to get fired while I can still get a kickass reference from someone who's not my dick of a boss, but my understanding manager. I wished I got to formally learn more fundamentals of running a small business...but I think I've picked a lot of it up directly and with doing some project management work. A lot of it is really shitty, though.
clouds in your eyes
with nothing but the foggiest day
such a pretty song.
saw them play today.
it was fun.
dormant thoughts about the components of a film review. listened to the album and considered it by breaking up by different musical elements: the vocals, the synth, the lead guitar, rhythm, vocals, bass, drumming, energy, tone, genre or subgenre, the season evoked, the year of its release, the time of its release, the political atmosphere of the world at the time of its release... that sort of thing. disregard the last part.
can't sleep. i told myself it doesn't even matter how many hours of sleep i get tomorrow, i'll feel like shit anyway without coffee. and then once i have the coffee i'll realize I still feel like shit. my favorite professor here (whom i currently have) said there was this uncanny effect where a person will take on the persona of their job, internalize their responsibilities there subconsciously, and will assume the identity of that job's role. I hope this only applies while they're on the job, and not all the time. But it would certainly explain the gap between the rich and poor in this country. But then it undergoes the chicken and the egg question: do the wealthy exude a certain personality, or are they wealthy because they act "wealthy"? And then you have to consider where the wealth comes from - is it old money or new money? This makes me realize I have veered off the path I was going with my initial idea (of this paragraph) - do I feel shitty because my job is shitty? Or is my job shitty because I'm shitty? Or is this just a 1st-world problem (I work in an office) as I'm shitty for not realizing how grateful I should be to work this job? As so many people, including my father, are out of work right now and my rate of pay couldn't be beat with my student status and my city's local economy...shouldn't I work each moment with pride and apprecitation, dutifully? Nah, fuck it, school is more important and I should do the most dicking around as possible in these early years of employment because it's almost impossible for me to get fired while I can still get a kickass reference from someone who's not my dick of a boss, but my understanding manager. I wished I got to formally learn more fundamentals of running a small business...but I think I've picked a lot of it up directly and with doing some project management work. A lot of it is really shitty, though.
Monday, February 14, 2011
pointlessness
"I can't believe I just remembered it was Valentine's day!" shouted a marketing lady to the few that had been sitting at their desks, or getting ready to, at about 8:00 AM.
"Yep, it is..." I said to my computer screen.
"I had to get valentines and chocolates for Max's class party..."
I'm glad I don't have kids.
"...and drive him to school early this morning!"
I'm so glad I don't have kids.
Ugh I don't want to be here but I guess it's better than the salt mines.
"Anyone want coffee, I'm making coffee," shouted our bossman to the busy office.
"There's no creamer..." V chipped in from her support desk.
"Yeah, there's no creamer!" said the marketing lady.
"Yep, it is..." I said to my computer screen.
"I had to get valentines and chocolates for Max's class party..."
I'm glad I don't have kids.
"...and drive him to school early this morning!"
I'm so glad I don't have kids.
Ugh I don't want to be here but I guess it's better than the salt mines.
"Anyone want coffee, I'm making coffee," shouted our bossman to the busy office.
"There's no creamer..." V chipped in from her support desk.
"Yeah, there's no creamer!" said the marketing lady.
Thursday, February 10, 2011
bloody bugs
Ugh, I'm so dumb for not CCing bossman in this email to Oktoy. There should not be any errors in the shipping process on the front end at this point. It is ridiculous, and absurd that he is too busy to not respond within a reasonable 24 hours. And those messages I have sent about image uploading on Tuesday, I haven't heard a thing! Does he think this project is not important anymore? Does he think its petty, and less lucrative than the stuff he does for our company? Well, it is less important, but still, it's his duty to fix his bugs! Shit, I just realized my girlfriend's period blood is hanging on my cuticles. Sweet.
Monday, February 7, 2011
my day mystified
On my 10-minute break for cigarettes and a tea for my coworker, I maneuver up and down the streets of XXXXXX like a sullen Raskolnikov. The wind is piercing and harsh, like I imagine my boss will sound if he discovers I arrive back at minute eleven. The second cup of coffee provokes me not to work faster and more efficiently, but motivates a careless, capricious nature in me, and I read blogs and dick around. My boss is ten feet away, but faces the other direction. I take some risk in writing this post, but his attention is usually captured by the matters of better-paid, more important employees. Not that I want to be those people, of course. I am content working here only part time, while I get to fulfill my role as a student, friend and...lover during the other part of time. But I should really investigate one of those duties I am assigned. Ugh. The more I dread it and put it off, the harder it is to start. Well, at least it's a first-world problem.
Sunday, January 30, 2011
My sweet aunt and my silly privileged American life
Today my aunt called me at about 5pm today. She says, how are you doing, are there any new developments in your life, how is work, how is school, etc. Most things anyone's aunt would ask them. An aunt who is distant and whom one can only visit once every year, or every other year. I tell her about what I'm studying, how much I enjoy it, how I like my professors and faculty, how I like my college, how I like my job, what I'm doing there and what I like about it, how my father is doing, lying if he is not doing well, but using an unsure tone if I am so she may understand without me speaking negative about him, what great things he is doing, how happy he is doing these things.
Maybe you are noticing a pattern. I do not think my situation is unique. There is so much I wish I could tell my aunt. She calls me every other Sunday if possible, ever since I lost my mother. I could tell my mom a little more, maybe a lot more. Yes, I could tell her almost everything! Somehow, sometime I will.
I should have told my aunt about what I did last night, why didn't I? I don't appreciate people being vague, why am I doing it myself? I think I was just startled and upset by her call, and when I am startled and upset, I play it safe by dealing with generalities. Much like the small talk at work.
I want to do more drugs. I wish I could find some opiates, some hydrocodone, oh that would be splendid, laying here, eating some ice cream, gazing at Dostoevsky's writing and...well, provided I could still follow the novel, it would be nice. In the past I had taken too much and I would just vegetate in front of my computer listening to ambient music and wasting my high time in front of mindless internet forums with stupid people arguing about how stupid the other person was.
Oh dear. What am I going to do with my life? My slightly older cousin will soon finish his business degree. My uncle, the Canadian capitalist, strongly believes his son will find a job in their Candadian economy in 5 minutes, starting between forty and sixty thousand Canadian dollars a year. After speaking to my mentor about this, the frailties in my uncle's comparison between my and my slightly older Canadian cousin became clear: If I pursued a degree in business, I would want to kill myself! -in a miserable fury, a kind of fury that lurks in the back of your mind, and writhes more as you age and fail to appease the objectives you set out to complete years ago. That sort of fury that triggers quarter and mid-life crises! I may be less attractive than my Canadian cousin, and while I could never muster the votes for my branded self to be Student Body President (of XXX private Christian college {UGH! GAG!}), I am a far more interesting person, with my struggles, my battles, my anguish, my old poverty, my rage, my highs, my ecstasies, elements he will never know! I am special! Listen to me! Hire me! Also, he'll have to work in offices! I have learned, in my work and experience, that offices are the bane of consciousness! The classroom, the studio, the library, the lecture hall, the streets, the outdoors, the kitchen and the bedroom are where things of importance spawn! And my girlfriend's on birth control, so let's just say things of importance happen there, not spawn. I'm too queer to be a breeder, but not queer enough to play with the boys. I know, I know. God made me this way. If only there was something I could do to remove this curse...but let's not go there today.
I know, I'm not modest here, I don't have to be. I am being silly, too. And I am hungry, so I will leave this library (where something of importance is spawning) for the kitchen (where something of importance will spawn).
As for what I'm going to do with my life, I'm going to drive home, make some tortellini, maybe drink some wine, get to page 60 in this novel, play a video game, and who knows what else, but I'm going to enjoy it. I've been working my ass off, except for last night, I need to take it easy, on my own. God bless America.
Maybe my cousin will make 40-60K CEOing the company that Trader Joe's imports their tortellini from.
Nah...
I don't think any of their products come from Canada.
Maybe you are noticing a pattern. I do not think my situation is unique. There is so much I wish I could tell my aunt. She calls me every other Sunday if possible, ever since I lost my mother. I could tell my mom a little more, maybe a lot more. Yes, I could tell her almost everything! Somehow, sometime I will.
I should have told my aunt about what I did last night, why didn't I? I don't appreciate people being vague, why am I doing it myself? I think I was just startled and upset by her call, and when I am startled and upset, I play it safe by dealing with generalities. Much like the small talk at work.
I want to do more drugs. I wish I could find some opiates, some hydrocodone, oh that would be splendid, laying here, eating some ice cream, gazing at Dostoevsky's writing and...well, provided I could still follow the novel, it would be nice. In the past I had taken too much and I would just vegetate in front of my computer listening to ambient music and wasting my high time in front of mindless internet forums with stupid people arguing about how stupid the other person was.
Oh dear. What am I going to do with my life? My slightly older cousin will soon finish his business degree. My uncle, the Canadian capitalist, strongly believes his son will find a job in their Candadian economy in 5 minutes, starting between forty and sixty thousand Canadian dollars a year. After speaking to my mentor about this, the frailties in my uncle's comparison between my and my slightly older Canadian cousin became clear: If I pursued a degree in business, I would want to kill myself! -in a miserable fury, a kind of fury that lurks in the back of your mind, and writhes more as you age and fail to appease the objectives you set out to complete years ago. That sort of fury that triggers quarter and mid-life crises! I may be less attractive than my Canadian cousin, and while I could never muster the votes for my branded self to be Student Body President (of XXX private Christian college {UGH! GAG!}), I am a far more interesting person, with my struggles, my battles, my anguish, my old poverty, my rage, my highs, my ecstasies, elements he will never know! I am special! Listen to me! Hire me! Also, he'll have to work in offices! I have learned, in my work and experience, that offices are the bane of consciousness! The classroom, the studio, the library, the lecture hall, the streets, the outdoors, the kitchen and the bedroom are where things of importance spawn! And my girlfriend's on birth control, so let's just say things of importance happen there, not spawn. I'm too queer to be a breeder, but not queer enough to play with the boys. I know, I know. God made me this way. If only there was something I could do to remove this curse...but let's not go there today.
I know, I'm not modest here, I don't have to be. I am being silly, too. And I am hungry, so I will leave this library (where something of importance is spawning) for the kitchen (where something of importance will spawn).
As for what I'm going to do with my life, I'm going to drive home, make some tortellini, maybe drink some wine, get to page 60 in this novel, play a video game, and who knows what else, but I'm going to enjoy it. I've been working my ass off, except for last night, I need to take it easy, on my own. God bless America.
Maybe my cousin will make 40-60K CEOing the company that Trader Joe's imports their tortellini from.
Nah...
I don't think any of their products come from Canada.
distracted, so I'm here
Trying to read Dostoevsky but I keep getting distracted so I'll write my notes from above ground in my bourgeois universe here. Fell asleep to the looping DVD menu music from Speed. Woke up hungover in a sleeping bag in my friend's now furnished apartment. Drove my car half a mile so I wouldn't have to walk across campus to the library. Emailed the principal of the local middle school again, asking that if he hadn't chosen his math/reading tutors yet - he should choose me because I'm experienced at tutoring my peers, have a passion for learning and education and want to (try) sharing it with my community for $12 an hour if I'm lucky, and that I enjoy the presence of children. Only one of those claims is true. Sold 3 shares of some winning ETF in my Roth IRA. I want to call the brokerage and see if I can transfer some of that money to my individual account (which is empty) so I can put some riskier stocks in there. That stock is ONVI, if you're curious. The last time I tried doing that was with WAMU and my coworkers laughed at me when they went bankrupt. Only lost $50. Maybe I'll playing the market on Scottrade the same way Dostoevsky played cards during his 10 year prison sentence. If you wish to quantify it, perhaps I'll do better since I'm half his age when he wrote Notes, it's only a quarter as cold in my city than in Siberia, and although since I've only suffered a sixteenth of what he's endured, my writing will only end up a twohundred-fiftysixth in quality. I wish my school offered some sort of pre-Soviet GULAG literary enhancement program.
"...the most intense pleasures occur in despair, especially when you're very acutely aware of the hopelessness of your own predicament."
I wish my girlfriend wasn't so passive, maybe then she could break my heart and I'll become transposed with the gift of quality writing! But there is some weird situation where I actually WANT her to fuck someone else. It's confusing and stressful, and I'll get into it another time. Has there ever been some sort of story where a character tries to encourage his/her sig. other to have an affair?
"...the most intense pleasures occur in despair, especially when you're very acutely aware of the hopelessness of your own predicament."
I wish my girlfriend wasn't so passive, maybe then she could break my heart and I'll become transposed with the gift of quality writing! But there is some weird situation where I actually WANT her to fuck someone else. It's confusing and stressful, and I'll get into it another time. Has there ever been some sort of story where a character tries to encourage his/her sig. other to have an affair?
Tuesday, January 4, 2011
back in school now, my letter to popular career blogger
Dear XXX,
My name is Marcus Nagelberg. I'm going to stop there and tell you that I didn't realize how long this email would become, but I've written much of what needed to be written about me, but I can assure you, that every word of it is important because it comes from the heart! I am writing this covertly because it's an important use of my time, and I respect how accessible your email address is on your blog. That matters to me, as it shows you are willing to listen!
I'm a student at XXXXXXXX, a non-traditional, liberal arts college, as well as an employee for a startup called XXXXXX.org, although I've been spending a number of paid hours reading your old blog posts. I enjoyed what you said about Tim Feriss - all I got out of his 4-hour work week book was that, if I have my own business at some point, I can pay people in India to tie my shoes for me, but, as I have learned working my current job, they can't tell you if you're not respecting your employees.
So, I live in sort of a rich dad, poor dad scenario, although I lack much guidance from the rich dad. My father, my "poor dad" who is currently in grad school for an MFA in theatre arts, (he wants to direct, produce, and/or teach professional theatre) loves me, cares for me, and since my wealthy grandfather passed last year, is able to help me pay for school out of state, thank God.
But the best advice he can give me, as I go to school in XXXXXX - and he lives in suburban XXXX, where I was born and raised - is how to be an employee. It sounds like slave morality - "Do a good job, impress your boss, and maybe he'll keep you around and give you more responsibilities." I don't want to live my life like that. Though I'm doing it now, because I'm just getting started and want to absorb as much knowledge as I can and I must support myself while in college. But I'm very fortunate to learn at the ripe age of 21, that as interested as I am in social media, internet technology, and small business, I don't want to work in an office for the rest of my life.
It has been my understanding, that what many people have studied in their formal education is largely different from their career and/or vocational work. So, I have made decisions with my education to study what is best learned in an academic environment (current emphasis on Russian and Eurasian history, literature, language, and culture) and learn more lucrative things from jobs and internships. I am beginning to think I have made some poor choices. Well, probably not, seeing as I'm only 21. I don't want to get any older. Mentally, I feel 35. I want to be young and virile forever. But that's another story.
I just spent this Christmas with my Aunt and Uncle and their two sons and my second cousin. My uncle is very wealthy and is able to support his hobby of collecting and storing Corvettes. He has a passion for these cars like I have a passion for literature and music, but he knows he can't make much money from Corvettes, so he makes money via other means to support his hobby. He dropped out of college and developed a piece of software for mining engineers and sold it and made millions, and will probably start a new business this year to create a 2.0 version of the software and market it through the website. But the point is, he figured it out, he had a plan and went for it.
My argument is that he couldn't have done it all himself. He had his colleagues, his old coworkers from his old firm, his network to pool investors from. That he didn't come up with his plan until it crept up on him. And that's what I'm getting to. His son, my cousin, is graduating with a business degree from some Christian private college and my uncle is confident that he'll get a job paying $50-70K right away, as the economy is great in Calgary (where they are), and that they are looking for people like him. But does he really have a plan? He's student body president, people like him, possibly a natural leader, etc. I don't think he has a plan. He's just pretty and privileged and has a wealthy father to give him all the advice and connections he'll ever need. I don't have those things. I have to find them all myself.
I spent nearly two years as a paid, part-time intern and researcher at a social media marketing startup that blossomed in Los Angeles and expanded to NY and London. Of course, as an employee, my hourly rate never reflected the company's success. I couldn't get a promotion, as I was part-time. But I learned a hell of a lot and got some great referrals. I should do more to keep in touch.
Now I work at another small business. It started off great this summer, and I've been out of the house at 7 or 8am, either for school or work. I bust my ass more than any of my friends do. And the pay is good for this small city, better than I'd probably get anywhere else, part-time, as a literature/history student. But I'm really starting to hate the office environment. My job responsibilities have changed, like, every 6 weeks, there's weird structures and chains of command that elicit the worst in some people's personalities. And for some reason, my title is "Project Manager". That'll look good on a resume. I just don't know where I'd apply. I love working with computers, just not in a room with other people who I feel want to eat my brains when I die. And I find it truly sickening to see people more loyal to their superiors than the people they manage. My father worked in a place like this for longer than I've been alive to support his former wife, me, and to pay our mortgage. I should note that it's nowhere near getting paid off and costs more than the house is worth.
And I don't want to be a lifer, either. The other lady who used to manage me (until she took over my projects) has no life outside of this company. She recently went back to get her college degree and has been here a month longer than I have. I bet I could do her job and make good money, but I don't want to be consumed. She gets calls and emails from our director at home, on weekends. She'll come in at 7, leave at 3, but go home to do more work. She puts in a lot of hours, but she really needs to get laid. I agree with you, it does a lot more for a person getting laid once a week than once a month. I think I'm gonna go steady with this girl just because of what you said. (She comes back from Texas today, hooray!)
But it's also a really great site! It is ... XXXXXX. But please don't say anything about it or my boss will find out and kill me. But it's going places. We're the {description and ranking}! It's amazing. I wholeheartedly recommend it. The job isn't that bad, I just want to dick around a lot. I ask myself how much has changed since I was hired, and in some senses, a lot, and in some senses, not fucking much. My projects have certainly changed, and I've been "disciplined" too. It doesn't really matter now, but I'm just here to pay my bills. I've taken in some alternative measures, in "reassessing my core beliefs" and some yogi maxims and mumbo jumbo, but I just feel like shit here and I can't help it! The only thing I'm trying to do different is outside the office is, read your blog, start Tweeting and following interesting (career/academically) people on Twitter and I'm emailing the heads of Rotary clubs in my area because they might offer me some networking opportunities. I want to start my own thing. I just don't know what. But the issue is, where do I go from here? Compile a list of my interests and see what I can pursue to make money?
I want to travel, I want to live abroad. I'm learning that I love history. And I love literature. I think it's really important. I love Bukowski, Bronte, Plath, Camus, Wilde, Gogol and many other dead people's works. I'm learning Russian, I want to go to Russia and learn Russian. Why? Because it's a badass language. But I used to think that I'm ahead of my liberal arts colleagues at my liberal arts college with my vocational background, but I'm starting to doubt it as I really don't have much of a plan. I really trust my Uncle, my rich dad on this one. But I think I need to go out and see the world more in order to build one. I feel, on one hand I need to go out into the world, post-collegiate, bump around a bit, and then I'll be able to get a better perspective of what plan I can focus on. On the other hand, my uncle believes I need to have a plan now, while I'm in school, and follow up immediately afterward with some sort of career.
Please advise.
Your fan,
Marcus Nagelberg
My name is Marcus Nagelberg. I'm going to stop there and tell you that I didn't realize how long this email would become, but I've written much of what needed to be written about me, but I can assure you, that every word of it is important because it comes from the heart! I am writing this covertly because it's an important use of my time, and I respect how accessible your email address is on your blog. That matters to me, as it shows you are willing to listen!
I'm a student at XXXXXXXX, a non-traditional, liberal arts college, as well as an employee for a startup called XXXXXX.org, although I've been spending a number of paid hours reading your old blog posts. I enjoyed what you said about Tim Feriss - all I got out of his 4-hour work week book was that, if I have my own business at some point, I can pay people in India to tie my shoes for me, but, as I have learned working my current job, they can't tell you if you're not respecting your employees.
So, I live in sort of a rich dad, poor dad scenario, although I lack much guidance from the rich dad. My father, my "poor dad" who is currently in grad school for an MFA in theatre arts, (he wants to direct, produce, and/or teach professional theatre) loves me, cares for me, and since my wealthy grandfather passed last year, is able to help me pay for school out of state, thank God.
But the best advice he can give me, as I go to school in XXXXXX - and he lives in suburban XXXX, where I was born and raised - is how to be an employee. It sounds like slave morality - "Do a good job, impress your boss, and maybe he'll keep you around and give you more responsibilities." I don't want to live my life like that. Though I'm doing it now, because I'm just getting started and want to absorb as much knowledge as I can and I must support myself while in college. But I'm very fortunate to learn at the ripe age of 21, that as interested as I am in social media, internet technology, and small business, I don't want to work in an office for the rest of my life.
It has been my understanding, that what many people have studied in their formal education is largely different from their career and/or vocational work. So, I have made decisions with my education to study what is best learned in an academic environment (current emphasis on Russian and Eurasian history, literature, language, and culture) and learn more lucrative things from jobs and internships. I am beginning to think I have made some poor choices. Well, probably not, seeing as I'm only 21. I don't want to get any older. Mentally, I feel 35. I want to be young and virile forever. But that's another story.
I just spent this Christmas with my Aunt and Uncle and their two sons and my second cousin. My uncle is very wealthy and is able to support his hobby of collecting and storing Corvettes. He has a passion for these cars like I have a passion for literature and music, but he knows he can't make much money from Corvettes, so he makes money via other means to support his hobby. He dropped out of college and developed a piece of software for mining engineers and sold it and made millions, and will probably start a new business this year to create a 2.0 version of the software and market it through the website. But the point is, he figured it out, he had a plan and went for it.
My argument is that he couldn't have done it all himself. He had his colleagues, his old coworkers from his old firm, his network to pool investors from. That he didn't come up with his plan until it crept up on him. And that's what I'm getting to. His son, my cousin, is graduating with a business degree from some Christian private college and my uncle is confident that he'll get a job paying $50-70K right away, as the economy is great in Calgary (where they are), and that they are looking for people like him. But does he really have a plan? He's student body president, people like him, possibly a natural leader, etc. I don't think he has a plan. He's just pretty and privileged and has a wealthy father to give him all the advice and connections he'll ever need. I don't have those things. I have to find them all myself.
I spent nearly two years as a paid, part-time intern and researcher at a social media marketing startup that blossomed in Los Angeles and expanded to NY and London. Of course, as an employee, my hourly rate never reflected the company's success. I couldn't get a promotion, as I was part-time. But I learned a hell of a lot and got some great referrals. I should do more to keep in touch.
Now I work at another small business. It started off great this summer, and I've been out of the house at 7 or 8am, either for school or work. I bust my ass more than any of my friends do. And the pay is good for this small city, better than I'd probably get anywhere else, part-time, as a literature/history student. But I'm really starting to hate the office environment. My job responsibilities have changed, like, every 6 weeks, there's weird structures and chains of command that elicit the worst in some people's personalities. And for some reason, my title is "Project Manager". That'll look good on a resume. I just don't know where I'd apply. I love working with computers, just not in a room with other people who I feel want to eat my brains when I die. And I find it truly sickening to see people more loyal to their superiors than the people they manage. My father worked in a place like this for longer than I've been alive to support his former wife, me, and to pay our mortgage. I should note that it's nowhere near getting paid off and costs more than the house is worth.
And I don't want to be a lifer, either. The other lady who used to manage me (until she took over my projects) has no life outside of this company. She recently went back to get her college degree and has been here a month longer than I have. I bet I could do her job and make good money, but I don't want to be consumed. She gets calls and emails from our director at home, on weekends. She'll come in at 7, leave at 3, but go home to do more work. She puts in a lot of hours, but she really needs to get laid. I agree with you, it does a lot more for a person getting laid once a week than once a month. I think I'm gonna go steady with this girl just because of what you said. (She comes back from Texas today, hooray!)
But it's also a really great site! It is ... XXXXXX. But please don't say anything about it or my boss will find out and kill me. But it's going places. We're the {description and ranking}! It's amazing. I wholeheartedly recommend it. The job isn't that bad, I just want to dick around a lot. I ask myself how much has changed since I was hired, and in some senses, a lot, and in some senses, not fucking much. My projects have certainly changed, and I've been "disciplined" too. It doesn't really matter now, but I'm just here to pay my bills. I've taken in some alternative measures, in "reassessing my core beliefs" and some yogi maxims and mumbo jumbo, but I just feel like shit here and I can't help it! The only thing I'm trying to do different is outside the office is, read your blog, start Tweeting and following interesting (career/academically) people on Twitter and I'm emailing the heads of Rotary clubs in my area because they might offer me some networking opportunities. I want to start my own thing. I just don't know what. But the issue is, where do I go from here? Compile a list of my interests and see what I can pursue to make money?
I want to travel, I want to live abroad. I'm learning that I love history. And I love literature. I think it's really important. I love Bukowski, Bronte, Plath, Camus, Wilde, Gogol and many other dead people's works. I'm learning Russian, I want to go to Russia and learn Russian. Why? Because it's a badass language. But I used to think that I'm ahead of my liberal arts colleagues at my liberal arts college with my vocational background, but I'm starting to doubt it as I really don't have much of a plan. I really trust my Uncle, my rich dad on this one. But I think I need to go out and see the world more in order to build one. I feel, on one hand I need to go out into the world, post-collegiate, bump around a bit, and then I'll be able to get a better perspective of what plan I can focus on. On the other hand, my uncle believes I need to have a plan now, while I'm in school, and follow up immediately afterward with some sort of career.
Please advise.
Your fan,
Marcus Nagelberg
Monday, March 9, 2009
Problem
I think I have a problem. I will do anything to stay in bed. I called in and said I'd be coming in a little later to do errands. I laid in longer. It felt so good and I couldn't help myself. Every 10 minutes I'd check the time and stay cozy for a little longer. It's been a real problem for me. And, the first thing that people would think is, oh, just go to bed earlier. I get 8 hours of sleep either way! But I noticed that an hour later...I was feeling like I didn't want to lie there anymore. And I only stayed because I knew I'd get up at 9:40. Between 9:20 and 9:40 I felt restless. Maybe, for my age I just have to go to bed a little earlier after all?
It's just that...there's never enough hours in the day. Maybe I'm just not making the most out of them. I don't want to end up 30 and alone. Or 40 and broke. Or 50 and suicidal. I'll try going to bed earlier. Maybe I just need 9 hours of sleep.
Let me tell you about the stories that hang over my head
There were two men who never met or ever will meet, but they grew up during the great depression on their families' meager farmlands. One left at 18 with nothing but his clothes and his last couple of dollars and set out to never be poor again. The other went to the Colorado School of Mines and had the same mindset, just not as public about it. After some time, with much labor and effort, they sat upon their wealth, lived in nice homes, and shared with the families they brought forth. Now they are sick and dying.
They both had a son, each of them, and other children too but all that matters is the fact that both men had a son. One of these sons would become my father. The other, my good friend's adoptive father. These two sons, of the now elderly men lived and currently live more modest lives, more stressed and difficult lives, with less effort on their careers a possible factor, as well as many others.
Moral of the story: I'm willing to work, but need direction. I don't know if the great depression can mirror the economic crisis we're facing now, but it's a hell of a motivation to go to college. I just need a better plan...
I want to be like my grandfather, just without as much of an effort on starting a family. i come first.
It's just that...there's never enough hours in the day. Maybe I'm just not making the most out of them. I don't want to end up 30 and alone. Or 40 and broke. Or 50 and suicidal. I'll try going to bed earlier. Maybe I just need 9 hours of sleep.
Let me tell you about the stories that hang over my head
There were two men who never met or ever will meet, but they grew up during the great depression on their families' meager farmlands. One left at 18 with nothing but his clothes and his last couple of dollars and set out to never be poor again. The other went to the Colorado School of Mines and had the same mindset, just not as public about it. After some time, with much labor and effort, they sat upon their wealth, lived in nice homes, and shared with the families they brought forth. Now they are sick and dying.
They both had a son, each of them, and other children too but all that matters is the fact that both men had a son. One of these sons would become my father. The other, my good friend's adoptive father. These two sons, of the now elderly men lived and currently live more modest lives, more stressed and difficult lives, with less effort on their careers a possible factor, as well as many others.
Moral of the story: I'm willing to work, but need direction. I don't know if the great depression can mirror the economic crisis we're facing now, but it's a hell of a motivation to go to college. I just need a better plan...
I want to be like my grandfather, just without as much of an effort on starting a family. i come first.
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