7. Eat Pray Love by Elizabeth Gilbert
6. Have a Little Faith by Mitch Albom
5. The Giver by Lois Lowry
4. The Particular Sadness of Lemon Cake by Aimee Bender
3. Vanity Fair (a second time)*
2. Alias Grace by Margaret Atwood**
1. Vanity Fair by W.M. Thackeray*
Wednesday, September 21, 2011
Saturday, September 17, 2011
Kindness Forbidden
A couple weeks ago, my coworker made an announcement when I got back from my lunch break. "Pam and I have decided that you are not allowed to bring baking in to work anymore. And when the other girl brings in stuff, we're not going to have any. And we're going to go for walks on our lunch break." They are trying to eat healthy and lose weight. I was a little stunned by their announcement though. There are two aspect to my feelings, and I'm not quite sure which should win out.
A) I want to support their goals. I don't want to tempt them to eat junk food when they are trying to be healthy. And if my "kindness" is detrimental to them, then it's not kind.
B) I share my baking to show that I care. I feel that by preemptively rejecting my goodies, they are rejecting me and my attempts to be kind. And it was surprising to be told that I am "not allowed" to do something by people who have no authority over me.
Consideration A isn't a new thought to me, and as a result I haven't been sharing treats as much as I used to (though it makes me feel stingy and un-caring). I might bring in cookies or cupcakes once a month... or two or four (2-4 months, not 2-4 times a month). I think it's a good, caring thing to do - something that makes people feel happy and contributes to morale. But to some people it's detrimental... and now my feelings are hurt and I feel unappreciated and awkward about future sharing.
A) I want to support their goals. I don't want to tempt them to eat junk food when they are trying to be healthy. And if my "kindness" is detrimental to them, then it's not kind.
B) I share my baking to show that I care. I feel that by preemptively rejecting my goodies, they are rejecting me and my attempts to be kind. And it was surprising to be told that I am "not allowed" to do something by people who have no authority over me.
Consideration A isn't a new thought to me, and as a result I haven't been sharing treats as much as I used to (though it makes me feel stingy and un-caring). I might bring in cookies or cupcakes once a month... or two or four (2-4 months, not 2-4 times a month). I think it's a good, caring thing to do - something that makes people feel happy and contributes to morale. But to some people it's detrimental... and now my feelings are hurt and I feel unappreciated and awkward about future sharing.
Monday, September 12, 2011
Theme
The theme of my summer was "Not Good Enough." I'm not good enough at work (despite telling me that I've improved greatly in the past few months, my manager gave me a majority of "needs improvement" ratings on my annual review - marking me as one of the worst employees we have). I'm not good enough at being there for my friends (two friends moved this summer, and I didn't help; another wrote me a letter about how she regrets how we've grown apart). I'm not good enough at spending time with my family (Mom wishes I lived closer). I'm not good enough at keeping house (cooking and cleaning are impossibly hard). I'm not good enough at writing for my English course - or reading for it, for that matter (after getting a lower-than-expected mark on my paper, it took me over two months to make it through Vanity Fair).
Even when the results are fine, I still receive criticism. At work, the store manager told us that next time they'll get more people keying inventory because we were too slow - but it seemed to me that we were so caught up that we were often waiting for more numbers to come in. Still not good enough. My correspondence course tutor told me that my 2092 word paper was too short, when the required length was 2000 words and I had to cut it down to get it there, afraid of running too long. Still not good enough. If even meeting or exceeding expectations is unsatisfactory, what does it take to be sufficient? It seems impossible.
This feeling becomes exponential: once the idea is planted, I am more likely to interpret new circumstances in a way that reinforces it. And it's really hard to kick. But I've been trying. I counter "I'm not good enough" with memories of Justin telling me "Good job, Michelle!" or a coworker saying "I think you do a bang-up job." But I'm still living under the shadow of insufficiency.
Even when the results are fine, I still receive criticism. At work, the store manager told us that next time they'll get more people keying inventory because we were too slow - but it seemed to me that we were so caught up that we were often waiting for more numbers to come in. Still not good enough. My correspondence course tutor told me that my 2092 word paper was too short, when the required length was 2000 words and I had to cut it down to get it there, afraid of running too long. Still not good enough. If even meeting or exceeding expectations is unsatisfactory, what does it take to be sufficient? It seems impossible.
This feeling becomes exponential: once the idea is planted, I am more likely to interpret new circumstances in a way that reinforces it. And it's really hard to kick. But I've been trying. I counter "I'm not good enough" with memories of Justin telling me "Good job, Michelle!" or a coworker saying "I think you do a bang-up job." But I'm still living under the shadow of insufficiency.
Wednesday, September 7, 2011
Aye
I've discerned another excuse for the selfishness I discussed recently. It's my defense against manipulation. Nowadays there are so many schemes that try to convince me to further someone else's interests. "If you buy a newspaper subscription, the company gives me money for college." "If you host a Tupperware party, your friend can get more free stuff." Everyone who works for commission or under a quota tries to further their cause by getting me on board. It's fine and even great when I want the product they are offering - when I've been wanting to host a Tupperware party and buy a newspaper subscription, when their interests are in line with mine and the transaction is mutually beneficial. But I need my "selfishness" to protect me from all the times when that is not the case. When someone else's success is tied to my participation, they become less interested in whether or not I want what they are selling; they want me to want it, and many will resort to some level of manipulation to ensure that I cooperate. Since they do not have my best interests at heart, I need to.
Tuesday, September 6, 2011
Ouch
A week or two ago, while walking to the mailbox, I found myself thinking about what it's like to be any particular person. I think there's a special feeling associated with being me, with being you. Our perspectives have been shaped by our unique circumstances and our interpretations thereof, and this affects our outlook in every moment. And I wondered what it feels like to be you, and I wondered what you would think about how it feels to be me.
It's painful to be me. Old disappointments tarnish my present expectations, and a grim cloud of depression hangs over it all. I don't notice this pain all the time - busyness often distracts me, but I see it when I look back and when I slow down. Situations like massages and pedicures let it rise to the surface. This emotionally ill feeling is my predominant memory of my first massage, probably five years ago, and looking back I wondered at the state I must have been in to warrant that. Repeated experiences and recent introspection have made me realize that it's not exactly that I was in such a painful place then - that ache is always within me.
It's painful to be me. Old disappointments tarnish my present expectations, and a grim cloud of depression hangs over it all. I don't notice this pain all the time - busyness often distracts me, but I see it when I look back and when I slow down. Situations like massages and pedicures let it rise to the surface. This emotionally ill feeling is my predominant memory of my first massage, probably five years ago, and looking back I wondered at the state I must have been in to warrant that. Repeated experiences and recent introspection have made me realize that it's not exactly that I was in such a painful place then - that ache is always within me.
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