I've been interviewing for this job. A really great job. Way more money - like a 50% bump.
Great company. Pretty much the same thing that I'm doing now. Only they are more formalized. They do Direct Marketing the way you're supposed to do it. My company... not so much.
I have no doubt I can do the job and blow the doors off, you know. But I just love the company and the people I work with so much that all I can think is, that I totally have the power to bring that kind of philosophy right into my current job.
It's far more practical to accept a job that will pay me more. Especially since I want to start a family. But I can shake this nagging feeling that this is not the right move for me. Not that the new company has actually OFFERED me anything, mind you. But I am damn good so there is a good chance that they will.
I'm not afraid of change. I love change. Thrive on it. But I just feel like this is not the right move. Plus I know that I would really be screwing over my current company if I left. I mean BIG TIME. And they simply can't compete with the salaries these guys would be offering.
It just seems so counter-intuitive to pass up that much money. But I just can't see myself taking that job.
Wednesday, May 31, 2006
Tuesday, May 30, 2006
5 Minutes
If I could write creatively for just five minutes everyday, would that be enough? Would it be enough to get back on track and fulfill my destiny as a writer? The unrest I’m feeling seems to be pulling me toward that. I feel a heaviness in my chest. A hollow heaviness. How can something that feels so empty be weighing me down so much? The paradox of unfulfillment. So what is next? Do I blog away? Do just let 5 minutes a day kill the hunger pangs until the next 300 second fix?
I think in the back of my mind that if I just get started… if I just sit down and commit to 5 minutes it will lead to more. Like when two teenagers swear to each other that they will only kiss in the backseat of a parents car. Just kissing, no tongue, no touching below the neck. But then you know it leads to something more. Because deep down inside they want to, need to, have to – by biological imperative – go all the way.
That’s just how these things go. Maybe my creative genius will just get carried away with itself and do something truly great. That’s my hope anyway.
I think in the back of my mind that if I just get started… if I just sit down and commit to 5 minutes it will lead to more. Like when two teenagers swear to each other that they will only kiss in the backseat of a parents car. Just kissing, no tongue, no touching below the neck. But then you know it leads to something more. Because deep down inside they want to, need to, have to – by biological imperative – go all the way.
That’s just how these things go. Maybe my creative genius will just get carried away with itself and do something truly great. That’s my hope anyway.
Monday, May 29, 2006
Haitus Over
Everyone is the star of their own damn show.
Nobody thinks they are going to die.
If anything happens they’re gonna pull through
All those folks that die on the news, they’re just background.
The extras that make up the ambiance of living.
You know what’s worse than being canceled from your own life show?
Being forced to sit through your own reruns.
Ennui. Restlessness. Like you’ve become an extra in your own life.
I am restless and sad. Angry for no reason other than the fact that I’ve stopped moving forward.
It’s not that I don’t want to go anywhere.
It’s just that I don’t know which way to go.
Every direction, every possible turn of the plot has so many damn consequences.
They say that anything worth having is going to take hard work.
Well, keeping this show fresh is tough my friend. Real tough.
I want to feel my blood pumping. I want to hit my mark and remember my lines.
I want to hear the crowd laugh and know it’s not canned.
I feel this ache. This yearning for something more. I wish I could be so bold as to say it’s just beyond my reach. But that would be vain. And a lie. It would imply that I was actively reaching for something. But I’m not. The thing I’m yearning for is right the palm of my hands. I simply lack the will power - or maybe it’s discipline- to close my grip.
But I’m angry enough, just enough, just for right now, to let a little of that tension build to bend my knuckles just a bit.
My co-stars need a little push too. I know that. I want some character interaction. I want some conflict. I want a plot twist. Something big. A cliff-hanger at the end of the day that gets me up and ready to go the next morning.
Damn it’s hard. Scripts don’t write them selves you know. How do you recreate your character when the whole audience thinks they know you so well? How do you start over?
I’m tired of watching TV. Watching other lives being lived. Not even real ones. I don’t want to wake up one day and find that I never started living mine. How do those people do it? The tv stars and writers, the artists and intellectuals, the philosophers and the saints. Where do they find the time? Everybody gets the same 24 hours though don’t they? If I’ve learned nothing from Jack Bauer I’ve learned that.
I don’t know if I’ll get canceled before all the questions are answered or all my loose ends are tied up. Or if I’ll ever have spin off series or two… a girl and a boy would be nice but I’m not picky. But I’d like to make it to my series finale and maybe get an Emmy from God in the end. That would be nice. Or maybe I’ll leave some legacy behind something good for people to remember. Something to carry on… for syndication.
Nobody thinks they are going to die.
If anything happens they’re gonna pull through
All those folks that die on the news, they’re just background.
The extras that make up the ambiance of living.
You know what’s worse than being canceled from your own life show?
Being forced to sit through your own reruns.
Ennui. Restlessness. Like you’ve become an extra in your own life.
I am restless and sad. Angry for no reason other than the fact that I’ve stopped moving forward.
It’s not that I don’t want to go anywhere.
It’s just that I don’t know which way to go.
Every direction, every possible turn of the plot has so many damn consequences.
They say that anything worth having is going to take hard work.
Well, keeping this show fresh is tough my friend. Real tough.
I want to feel my blood pumping. I want to hit my mark and remember my lines.
I want to hear the crowd laugh and know it’s not canned.
I feel this ache. This yearning for something more. I wish I could be so bold as to say it’s just beyond my reach. But that would be vain. And a lie. It would imply that I was actively reaching for something. But I’m not. The thing I’m yearning for is right the palm of my hands. I simply lack the will power - or maybe it’s discipline- to close my grip.
But I’m angry enough, just enough, just for right now, to let a little of that tension build to bend my knuckles just a bit.
My co-stars need a little push too. I know that. I want some character interaction. I want some conflict. I want a plot twist. Something big. A cliff-hanger at the end of the day that gets me up and ready to go the next morning.
Damn it’s hard. Scripts don’t write them selves you know. How do you recreate your character when the whole audience thinks they know you so well? How do you start over?
I’m tired of watching TV. Watching other lives being lived. Not even real ones. I don’t want to wake up one day and find that I never started living mine. How do those people do it? The tv stars and writers, the artists and intellectuals, the philosophers and the saints. Where do they find the time? Everybody gets the same 24 hours though don’t they? If I’ve learned nothing from Jack Bauer I’ve learned that.
I don’t know if I’ll get canceled before all the questions are answered or all my loose ends are tied up. Or if I’ll ever have spin off series or two… a girl and a boy would be nice but I’m not picky. But I’d like to make it to my series finale and maybe get an Emmy from God in the end. That would be nice. Or maybe I’ll leave some legacy behind something good for people to remember. Something to carry on… for syndication.
Sunday, May 21, 2006
Home Again
Sunday, May 07, 2006
Me Generation
So I was reading in the paper how the whole Me Generation is very selfish and enititled. How they all assume that fame and fortune are their birthrights. How they question authority and expect to get their own way. And then I read how they think the whole world gives a shit what they think so they pour their hearts out in their blogs and expose every little sordid detail. And then I remembered that I have a blog that I haven't posted to in like two months. And I thought, "damn, the whole world IS waiting to hear MY meaningless ramblings."
So hi.
I'm not pregnant yet. Still working on it.
I'm not rich yet. My big plan for millions keeps getting stalled.... fucking lottery!
I'm not on a secluded tropical beach... but I will be in like 6 days. Honeymoon Part Deux!
I haven't figured out the secrets of the universe or unlocked the mind of God or gotten over the fact that I will not live forever.
I haven't written the great American novel yet.
I have however, bought a new Ipod. Window shopped for a new car. Braided my hair. Gone on a job interview for a position that would up my salary by 50%. Cleaned up copious amounts of cat poop, pee and vomit (sick kitties at home). Decided that taking my fucking temperature every freakin' morning was a waste of time. And I downloaded several guide meditation recordings to my ipod in order to try and look deeper into my subconscious mind and hopefully discover some universal truths ... or maybe to channel some good lottery numbers...I'm not picky.
So hi.
I'm not pregnant yet. Still working on it.
I'm not rich yet. My big plan for millions keeps getting stalled.... fucking lottery!
I'm not on a secluded tropical beach... but I will be in like 6 days. Honeymoon Part Deux!
I haven't figured out the secrets of the universe or unlocked the mind of God or gotten over the fact that I will not live forever.
I haven't written the great American novel yet.
I have however, bought a new Ipod. Window shopped for a new car. Braided my hair. Gone on a job interview for a position that would up my salary by 50%. Cleaned up copious amounts of cat poop, pee and vomit (sick kitties at home). Decided that taking my fucking temperature every freakin' morning was a waste of time. And I downloaded several guide meditation recordings to my ipod in order to try and look deeper into my subconscious mind and hopefully discover some universal truths ... or maybe to channel some good lottery numbers...I'm not picky.
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