We could change the theme, I'm not sure anyone is married to it. So, I have finally decided that social work is not for me. I hate it. I hate my job. If anything, Sept. 11th has made me sit down and think about my life. What if I'm at a conference downtown and am blown up(I know this is highly unlikely, but it's more of a possibilty now than before)? I don't want to die hating my job. Of course, I could die in a car accident or bizarre-yet-tragic chain of events involving a massage chair and bottle of tequilia, but recent events does turn the mind towards morbid. I think it was actually the convention I went to that put the head stone on my current career though. I went to Cincinnati for big social work hoo-haw, wore heels for three days straight, went to a five star restaurant, wore a $600 outfit, and presented at one of the workshops. Ah, this is the top, the best minds of this industry (if you can call it that) in this area. Let their words of wisdom and experience wash over me, cleansing me of my increasing apathy and doubt, leaving me baptized and a believer...or so I was thinking at the time. What I found were people who were a) staggeringly stupid, b) just as disillusioned as me or c) both. Nope nope nope...I will not end up like the people I saw there - 200 pounds overweight, chain smoking, bitter, and lonely.
The point of all this is that I was planning on discretely updating my resume at work today. But when I came in, the first thing I was told was "we need a current resume on you for a new grant," so I got to update it in full view, and recieve praise that I had it ready a few days before they even wanted it. Life is weird. On a related note, anyone wanting to review it and give me ways to make it better would be slavishly adored (particularly those over, say 25 {mommummommum}). I've found that spending two years helping people with, ah, limited work histories have spoiled me.
One more thing: Our alarm on the office building is malfunctioning. Which means we cannot turn it off. They won't come out until Tuesday. It's just beeping and beeping and beeping...
As an interesting sidenote, here is an example on conditioning: I have an uncontrolable urge to kill Mike Burton. (His alarm used to go off and keep beeping and beeping and beeping...)
posted by Holly at 5:49 PM link/comments
