Who's crying?
May. 26th, 2005 11:17 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
zalenaTuesday night I kept waking up thinking I heard someone crying. Then I realized it was me.
Last night I slept through the night, but I had bizarre nightmares where my last work situation was blended with a religious cult that was trying to reprogram me. (Including a long scene about appropriate spoons and their uses, which definitely has a link to class anxiety.)
Today I am turning in my re-taken, re-proofread test, and a sample blurb for a book dealing with the influence science fiction has on military weaponry development and political policy. Last week I could have cared less about the publishing job, but this week I am nervous because I am out of work again. I keep having to remind myself that they should be so lucky to have someone who has three years of publishing experience to consider for an entry level position as an editorial assistant.
Most my problems don't stem from who I am, but from trying to adapt myself to who I think people want me to be. The problem is, even when you are your most authentic self, there are still going to be people who don't like you. However, the odds of attracting the few people who actually might like that oddity are larger if they can actually see it. So I guess it's time to let my little light shine.
I suppose something about "Damn the torpedoes!" might be appropriate here, but I'm feeling tired, achy, and a little weepy today. It might be a good day to go for a walk, and then curl up with a good book.
S
Last night I slept through the night, but I had bizarre nightmares where my last work situation was blended with a religious cult that was trying to reprogram me. (Including a long scene about appropriate spoons and their uses, which definitely has a link to class anxiety.)
Today I am turning in my re-taken, re-proofread test, and a sample blurb for a book dealing with the influence science fiction has on military weaponry development and political policy. Last week I could have cared less about the publishing job, but this week I am nervous because I am out of work again. I keep having to remind myself that they should be so lucky to have someone who has three years of publishing experience to consider for an entry level position as an editorial assistant.
Most my problems don't stem from who I am, but from trying to adapt myself to who I think people want me to be. The problem is, even when you are your most authentic self, there are still going to be people who don't like you. However, the odds of attracting the few people who actually might like that oddity are larger if they can actually see it. So I guess it's time to let my little light shine.
I suppose something about "Damn the torpedoes!" might be appropriate here, but I'm feeling tired, achy, and a little weepy today. It might be a good day to go for a walk, and then curl up with a good book.
S
