A Litany of Impatience

1)  I’m so twitchy and anxious for the full review of The Camellia Resistance to come out I don’t know what to do with myself.

2) I don’t remember NaNoWriMo being this hard back in 2009.  I mean, every word feels like it’s being scratched out with an Umbridge Quill.  (I was never this obsessed with Harry Potter references when it was normal to be this obsessed with Mr. Potter & Co.)

3) Two interviews in the past 10 days.  Have I always been this socially awkward, or has sitting in a room with the guy that owned my old company and being told point blank “an introvert can’t succeed at my company” scarred me disproportionately?  “Tell me about your background…”  Well, I was married, once.  It didn’t work out.  (Before you smack your forehead in amazement that one person could be that stupid, I didn’t actually say that.)  Tell me about your biggest strength and your biggest weakness.  Sorry, they’re one and the same.  I think too much, and never about the right thing.  I am too busy trying to get under the surface to find the structure behind what it is to deal with the practical requirement.  So if you want someone to tell you why things are going to hell and what you might do to address the big picture in a sustainable way, I’m your girl.  If you want someone to pay attention to meetings, sorry, I’m too busy watching and thinking to listen to what is being said.  Also, on the weakness side, I don’t always get social interactions.  Case in point.

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A Litany of Impatience

6 thoughts on “A Litany of Impatience

  1. Twitchy Entrope,
    You’ll stick the landing on your book. I suspect writing challenges bore your subconscious…….even though the Camellias began this way I think.

    I don’t see a company in existence that is big picture enough for you, but you already know this.

    This introverted awkward bit is a quirk that someone decided you needed so you wouldn’t take over the world.
    RidicuRyder

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  2. In a parallel universe, 1 millimeter to your right you are halfway there. 1 millimeter to you left is where you are having all kinds of fun…..its tough to say which way you should expand your consciousness (left).

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  3. night owl says:

    My kids play this game in which they get to take over the world. They spend hours juggling decisions about whether to stick it to the little guy in this country or that, cut carbon emissions, provide disaster relief, etc. I’m trying to figure out what the fun in that is, but then I’m not a 21-year-old gamer.

    The thing I most dread about going out and applying for practicum positions is just that – the interview. Good lord, I can stick my foot in my mouth.

    I admire you very much for doing NaNoWriMo. One of my sons’ best friends did that last year. We visited him in the middle of it. I believe he was entering early stages of a nervous breakdown by November 22. Good luck.

    In the reverse position, I interviewed a professional in the counseling field last week for a paper I had to write and I taped the interview. Then I got to listen to myself being clumsy and socially awkward.

    At least you were spared that. A silver lining?

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  4. Yes, I suppose if my interviews were recorded and I were subject to the torture of listening to myself, I might have to consider a life of monastic silence thereafter. A vow to the gods that, in order to be spared further humiliation, I would never speak again.

    NaNoWriMo… Initially, I thought I’d do something fun and silly to reconnect with the joy of writing again. Unfortunately, I glossed over the fact that there is nothing joyful about writing. Except, perhaps, the part when you’re done. Even then, you’re never really done because I don’t know anyone who cares about the craft who couldn’t edit the same piece of writing indefinitely in search of perfect.

    I confess. I have no need for floggers and hair-brush spankings. I write. That’s enough pain for anyone. : P

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  5. night owl says:

    When I see someone writing, editing, writing, re-editing, I am reminded that it is much like gestating and birthing a child (which is also a tremendously masochistic thing to do.)

    Your last comment made me laugh loud enough to cause the neighbor’s dog to bark. Since I’m grinding away on academic papers (another exercise in masochism), the laughter was much appreciated. 🙂

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