Reprioritizing

And my blogging has fallen by the wayside. Shame on me!

No, really.

I turned 25 — and what did I have to show for it? A huge pile of RESPONSIBILITY staring me in the face. I haven’t decided how much it sucks yet — or if it sucks at all. There’s my personal life to consider, and how it interferes (or compliments!) my blossoming professional life. There’s the demands of a new, yet exciting, job — and how it infringes on my personal and romantic life. There’s the romantic life — juggling the trials of sharing my life with a guy I consider as important as myself and the rest of my family.  The celebrations that come along in any life — whether it’s to celebrate another wonderful summer day — in the middle of September, the celebration of knowing you’ve survived another year, celebrating the win of a favored athlete, or even another month to tuck into your belt.

All that stuff above, was just another way to say that I’ve been busy. My life has moved so fast in such a short period of time (as of today, I’ve been 25 for a whole month)… that I just haven’t had the presence of mind to log it in the blog.

It’s not that blogging isn’t important to me — it is. Blogging even makes its way into my job (what company DOESN’T have a blog anymore? Really.). Sharing my thoughts and musings with what little part of the world cares, is also important to me. My relationship with my boyfriend is important. My family is important. My job is important. My private time is also important. I think the main struggle of being in this quarter life is to know what is important when. During the 9 to 5 (9 to 6 in my case), my job is the most important thing. Secondary would be everything else that doesn’t directly relate to my job. Before and after work, that’s the time for myself, my boyfriend, my family, my friends. Time like now, is meant for myself. To take care of me, so that I have the health to deal with all the aforementioned stuff.

I haven’t been doing a very good job of that lately, either. Just last week, I pulled my calf muscle. Ow. Time to put the gym aside and take care of that. While I have that extra time to myself, I should devote myself to my job. Concentrate on being the best I can be … which, also includes taking my work home with me, which I’ve also done earlier tonight. Also find time to invest in my boyfriend, who is also going through a similar re-prioritization in his life.

Taking the time to explain the intricacies of everything’s relationship to one another, especially in the context of MY life — would take forever. Every day, the priorities change. Every day something happens that will shift the way we decide how much things are worth. They fluctuate more often than the stock exchange.

Part of dealing with the QLC is the ability to be flexible and realize the necessity of being flexible.

Life’s just a game of juggling. If you can’t do it, you just keep trying and practicing till you do. Sure, I’ve managed to figure out this tiny piece, but I’m just taking it one day at a time.

Sleep is becoming a priority like… rightnow.

To sum up the week thus far

And how eventful it’s been.

1. Tuesday – Minor car crunch. No one hurt. Rear bumper needs a fixin — but it’s alright.
2. Tuesday – Got an offer.
3. Wednesday – Accepted the offer.
4. Wednesday – Did a value of blogging orientation meeting at work.
5. Thursday – My mom’s birthday.
6. Thursday – Gave notice.
7. Thursday – Won an iPod.

Any questions?

Gratuity

My dad and I went to the store last night, right after I got home from work. I didn’t even have a chance to get out of my car before he packed me back in again, so we could get some last minute essentials for dinner. That, and my car was warm — our other ones were not.

The gripe of the night? Newspaper delivery requesting a 20% gratuity in addition to the weekly or monthly subscription we already had for god knows how many years. Sign us up as the latest family to cancel their newspaper subscription. We gave them a pretty hefty holiday something or other. Now they’re asking for a 20% gratuity… IN ADDITION to what they make on the route?

Seriously. We’re generous when the time is right. But if you’re going to BEG for something extra — obviously you are nowhere close to being worth to receive it.

The whole point? I will never be that desperate. In any aspect of my life.

Enjoying your job

You know what’s awesome? Managing to combine a job you like with a personal hobby you truly love.

I did that today. I WIN. I’m not really allowed to disclose anything more than that.

Value

Somewhere in the discussion in Psych of Attraction, the subject of value came up. Someone stated survival and replication value (makes it sound so businessy, doesn’t it?). What about the quest to seek value in our lives (post-college age)… whether it be short term or long term?

Is it one’s career? Success? Social value? Biological value (ties into replication)?

Personally, I seek success over anything else in the short term. I do not need a man to complete this. Friends are also of value to me, as is my sanity (ha). Career success, financial success… sure, if/when I get married (which is not something at the forefront of my mind) — financial success of the man does play a part. But it’s not my focus right now.

I go for personal independence first and foremost. Long term is an issue, but not as pressing as the short.

Anatomy of a career

It’s the end of a year (or at least 5 days from it)… and I suppose I could do one of those typical and expected year in review things. It’s not quite as full of milestones as last year was, since I was still a student at the beginning of 2005 and working at the end of it.

I’ve decided to do a different take on it this year — see my title.

I can’t really do the whole span of 4 odd decades of working because, let’s face it, I’m only 24. I’ve only been alive for 2 odd decades, and for most of that — I was a professional student (and making zero money from it).

Just from what I’ve seen so far this year… there are two ways you can go. Fight your way through the ranks at a large conglomerate or make it big quick in a small up and coming. It’s true, our economy is no longer run by the big men, it’s carried on the backs of small to mid-size businesses.

Holiday Party Etiquette

Tis the season. It’s almost Christmas, and we all know what that means (at least for the ones gainfully employed)… it’s Holiday Party time.

You’re going out with the people you work with. Not your friends. Not the people you can shoot the shit with at a bar or in your pajamas in your backyard. Not the people you have sexually suggestive conversations with. No, not those people. Instead, you’re going to a party with people you have professional relationships with.

I’m not saying that you can’t be friends with people you work with; it’s just that somewhere you need to draw a line. A big thick black line, preferably up to shoulder height. With the weight of a few tons. And maybe the width of a football field. Let’s face it. There just seems to be some things you cannot do with work people that you can do with your friends.

I’m not saying that all offices or companies are like this. Certainly not the jobs I’ve worked at, but as a general rule, better to be safe than known as ‘that guy’ or ‘that girl’.

Under the cut are a few tips to help you survive the Holiday Party Experience.

I am guilty.

Of not updating sooner.

To be honest, I have about seven entries on deck. Not quite completed or even barely started. I am a bad bad blogger.

-2 hrs  later-

See, this is just what I said. This is what I get for looking at my on-deck entries … not at home. Did you know that a majority of bloggers update during the work day? It’s my lunchbreak, it’s okay. It really is. It’s about 115p right now. I usually take lunch around 130p. That’s still fine, right?

-30 min later-

Seriously? (Said in a very Grey’s Anatomy-esque tone) Seriously. The speed at which I type, you’d think I could bang out a short and sweet — and RELEVANT entry. Nope, of course not. Not even during my lunch break. Or the sad excuse for a lunch break I am currently experiencing.

-1.5 hrs later-

I should just quit while I’m ahead, shouldn’t I? Or is it quit while I’m behind, with no hope of ever being ahead again?

Sexual harassment in the workplace.

Names and places have been changed to protect… things. It’s a touchy subject. It feels like it’s less taboo than it was a decade ago. More people talk about it. More people joke about it. But is joking really the answer? I don’t think so.

Disclaimer: This is an ‘other’ personal account, revealed only to inform and educate. It is not meant to defame or offend.

It was a new job. With new digs, new people to deal with, new situations to extract myself from. All in all, it felt like a brand new adventure. Nothing was too intimidating, people my age. I could get comfortable here.

After lunch on my own the first few days, I was finally invited out with some of the younger crowd. Excitement. A little social lunch. The group was about half girls and half guys. It was mostly just observation on my part — surveying the personality landscape, if you will.

Then it happened, “Do you have a boyfriend?”

I faltered. This was not a question one asked at work. Or even a work-like environment. It was still during the work day. We were out at lunch, yes, we were all well under the age of a middle-life-crisis… we were still mostly fresh out of school. I chewed my way out of actually answering the question, and managed to choke out a negative from around the unusually large bite I had taken.

I was advised to brush it off, as this guy supposedly had always asked all the other girls the same question. Nonetheless, I still felt uneasy. I didn’t really want to make waves at the new place, just make sure they knew I was an excellent employee — above and beyond the call of duty and all that stuff.

Unfortunately, I just couldn’t shake the anxiety attacks that started coming every time he and I were in the same room together. That couldn’t be good.

The next week, it was out to lunch with the same group. In virtually the same scenario there was another question, materializing out of nowhere, “Do you have room in your bed for a boyfriend?”

Everyone else laughed it off. I… could not. I felt violated. I felt offended. I felt anxious and panicky. Did my actions of the week before encourage him to ask something else? I don’t mind telling people my age (24) or my weight (125 lbs). But to ask something like that when you’re not trashed in a bar on some weekend and at work… does not fly with me. It shouldn’t fly with anyone. We’re young adults, we’re not in high school or elementary school — where we’re not supposed to know any better. We got ourselves into this job, now we should conduct ourselves professionally. One could make the argument that a comfortable casual work environment should beget a casual rapport among employees — yes. But there should be a line. And I feel, to this day, that that line was crossed.

So I said something. I didn’t scream bloody murder or rape right then and there at the table. Remember, I didn’t want to make too many waves. I just told my manager.

Brushing it off and ignoring it isn’t the answer. Laughing it off doesn’t make the person (be it girl or guy) feel any more comfortable than their original reaction. Making excuses for the person doesn’t help either.

Catch it before it becomes something worse. Help the problem before it becomes a disaster.

Link:

Take Back the Night

Where does all the time go?

Let’s face it. Between the new job and the new commute and the new sleeping schedule and the new life schedule — all that time, all that boredom I had while unemployed has completely vanished.

Why can’t there be an easy transition between the desperate “I don’t know what I’m doing and I don’t have a job and I don’t know where I’m going” stage and the completely exhausted “I have I job and I don’t know what I’m doing and there’s too much to do” stage? Seriously. The jarring difference between the two states leaves the 20-something in question completely bewildered and a bit lost. Therein lies another crisis after the QLC. Maybe the quarter life crisis comes in stages? It’s anywhere you don’t know where you’re going or what you came from?

They teach you about transition in school, but all that is relatively cushy and gradual.

This isn’t. This is life.

I don’t know if I like it. Stop it, I want to get off.