drama

i was looking through old emails the other day and came across and something i'd written to myself over three years ago. i had just started my first job after college. now, it seems dramatic , miserable and verbose. but because i just found out i'll continue to work at that same job for the foreseeable future, it seems fitting to put it up here. i cringed re-reading it at times--fill free to ridicule me, but in some strange way, i'm also proud of myself for actually writing it when i did. my nature is to keep things bottled up and outwardly complain as little as possible. which is obviously not the healthiest way to live life. maybe i should be writing my thoughts more often as a way of processing my life. don't worry, this blog is not about to turn into a cyber-emotion vomit session.

here it is in all it's unedited glory.

It's the sitting that eventually wears me down, day by day. Sitting in the same place all day long, yet somehow still unable to make my body stand and walk around the office. Surely at the very least I could convince myself I needed to go to the bathroom.

No.

I sit. By the slight adjustment of my left foot, I can swing the swivel chair in quick, short motions—right to left. I instinctively twist my right index finger until it pops. This is perhaps the 22 ^nd time I have performed this procedure or ritual today.

Like I said, it's the sitting that eventually makes me feel numb. My body feels as if it were asleep but its not. Unfortunately, the same can be said of my brain. Though it's more asleep than any other portion of me now. My fingers tap keys with relative precision. I only use the delete key sparingly, which usually isn't a good thing. Editing is a good thing. But that's how I got here in the first place. Editing.

Trying to type up my thoughts to a best friend, I found myself editing every word I said. For every argument I made, the counter-argument came to my mind. It was not that these 'counter-arguments' were exceptional. My primary ones were probably no better. It was that they were there. There is nothing quite so staggering as having two converse thoughts in your mind. It forces you to tiredness.

Tiredness. The phrase that seems to always be with me, making me drag my own feet below me. Why is that? i don't stay up well into the night. I walk somewhat regularly. I don't smoke that much. Barely any at all. Yet I feel like I'm missing out on something. That, by being so tired, I have succumbed to some external force applying unrelenting pressure. I can't understand it other than by association. At this moment, I associate this feeling with my current occupation.

Unfortunately, they haven't come up with a word for what I do. 'Office lackey,' is my personal term for it. I suppose like any job, it has its moments. I've found that I simply enjoy completing a task and doing it well, if I can. This is what scares me.

If I enjoy the completion of a task, regardless of the task itself, why the sluggish feeling?

I know it's not necessarily this job that continues to grind me down--though I have hoped for so long that is was this job. It is just having a job. That freedom ripped from me and hidden forever. The monotony of a daily routine so endlessly unchanging, clinked into place. Its very presence pressing out with unrelenting vigor the joys of my previous life into an afterthought. Work must now become my life.

But wait. This is normal. Everyone in the middle to upper echelon experiences this transformation, both abrupt and total, right? Had we not known that moment (most will call this higher education) free of major responsibility and time constraint, we should, in fact, be enjoying our employment all the more. Had we not known a time of plenty, the want would not seem so wanton.

I suppose.

But how much of my current job is to do with me and how much is to do with it?

This is the moment the confusion and sometimes discouragement begins to set in. What if its my own laziness? What if its the fact that I'm not being motivated? And then the inevitable question that is yet further down the path of confusion, what if its both?

If my last question, prying and unrelenting is correct, then simply getting a different line of work would have varying degrees of success--in the light of finding joy in my employment.

confession

i have a confession. i publicly decry good bands that have attained popularity in a smug attempt to appear too "indie" or concerned with originality to be impressed.

i know, many of us put up some front regarding music that allows our tastes to seem somehow more informed. but a recent article from pitchfork about coldplay made me realize just how stupid and deep my hypocrisy runs (ironically, most of my snobbishness is encouraged by pitchfork).

a few months ago, my friend will asked me if had listened to the new coldplay album because he really liked it. without hesitation, i produced some lame quip that none of coldplay's songs make any sense (which is actually true, but irrelevant).

like any sane person, he responded that half the bands we listen to make no sense (if he recommends a band, i like it without fail, so he knows my music well). i think at that point i sputtered an inane response under my breath about how i was "just over their style" while i fumbled for a rational response in vain. i believe i tired to change the subject next.

what is so despicable is that i finally listened to the album (after a recommendation by another will) and liked it. of course, most of their songs still don't make sense. their thinly veiled and esoteric political statements just make me angry. but the music is still good. see, why couldn't i have said that to my friend and just enjoyed the music? 

this is just part of a wider trend in my life of making statements which sound good based on a preconceived notion of "true" art, political sensibilities, or lifestyle in general and then scrambling after the fact to find the reason behind them. why not just state up front what my personal taste is rather than perversely pretend there is empirical evidence behind it? i guess the need to feel important, original, or informed outweighs the simple pleasure of enjoying music with friends. 

it's great to have an opinion and even to have reasons for it. to portray them as anything other than taste is foolish. anyway, feel free to mock me whenever you hear self-important sounding speech.