Guiding Stars

I've decided to go back to school in January. For an AAS in Business.

It's caught me a little off guard, but I think I have the head for it, and I certainly have the personality for it--driven, intelligent, attention to details, an insufferable perfectionist who will tell anybody how to do their job better. Little things like that.

This decision came after trying--and failing--to find a job as an administrative assistant. I'm still a little appalled at how strongly a degree makes a difference as to whether someone will reply to your inquiry email. I mean my cover letter smashes, but without the 'necessary' education, I might as well not have applied at all.

Recently, I've been wondering about what i'm actually going to do once I obtain this wondrous business degree. I mean, duh, I can be an accountant or a secretary, or work in HR, but those jobs are strictly to pay the bill.

What about happiness? Is there a way for me to combine my love of organisation with something that feeds my Soul?

The great question of our generation. It seems to be the Exception, not the Rule. I have found very few in my age cohort who have a job that pays their bills AND gives them some satisfaction other than fiscal.

Sometimes I wish I was 30 and could just have it all sorted out. And then I thought the other day, "Gods what if I don't have it figured out by then??!"

Best to keep my head in the present and pretend like I know that whay I'm planning to do will lead to some type of future stability.

Self-Restraint

I have grown and matured alot since arriving in Seattle. It was almost as if Olympia primed me for the exponential emotional growth that was going to happen when I jumped 60 miles to the north. Or however farther north I now reside....

One of the attributes I'm most proud to have developed is the ability to know that I'm aggravated, annoyed, or otherwise ready to pick a fight... and then don't.

It's tough, esp since I grew up in a house where verbal attacks came as frequently as those daily thunderstorms and were just as severe. I had mastered the art of a sharp tongue before I had learned my 7x multiplication tables. That was in third grade, in case you were wondering.

Anyhow, it's been a ready and available coping mechanism for when I feel threatened, annoyed, or otherwise emotionally vulnerable. Combine that with the ability to hold a grudge like an alligator holds its prey, and you're looking at a bomb with a hair-trigger.

I've been steadily working these last few years to disable that part of my emotional response kit, because it's pretty emotionally immature and also a guarantee that I will pop off, and most of my popping off is a reaction, as opposed to conscious thought. Not cute, and not a way to be.

More recently, I've been having the clarity of mind to keep my head close enough to remember that sometimes silence is a more potent response than the most acidic of comments.

Basically I'm going for the same effect but with a different method. Either way seems pretty self-serving.... Hmm. Maybe I haven't matured at all, but rather I'm better at camouflaging my emotional immaturity....

Ah well. Things to continue to work on..... ;)

The Itch

I've been feeling the itch to create--to write--for the past few weeks. I've also been telling myself--also for the past few weeks--that I have neglected my blogs for far too long and on, won't I go back and pretend like I know what to do on one of them?

Here's my attempt.

My Food Allergies Are Pretty Fucken Valid

It's really pissing me off that the only food allergies/sensitivities that are consistently recognized as valid are the ones that warrant being stabbed in the leg with a needle. 

There are those of us who get migraines, feel sluggish/groggy, and/or experience abdominal anguish when we come into contact with a food allergen. 

And folks can miss me with the 'Wow, you're so picky!' or the 'Oh my gawd, what CAN you eat?' because, yeah, it's the most fun to always have to ask for an ingredient list and to always ask what else was cooke with/near my food or just opt to bring my own food lest my intestine drag me into the Abyss. 

How hard is it to have some steamed carrots and broccoli at a potluck? Am I reaching for the stars with unsalted brown rice and unseasoned lentils??

I'm not here for any of this mess.