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Corn Maize
May. 20th, 2010 04:00 pmI hear a 21 gun salute...another death is being memorialized at the marine memorial. It goes on.
I just "friended" a guy on facebook who states his political views as "republican party" and I'm pretty sure he used to pick on me - before it was illegal, I had lists of people like him to take out (think Billy Madison, before Columbine made violent fantasy a crime). I don't trust my views from back then. The older I get, the more I think I don't know anything.
I also don't give a shit about facebook. No screen for stupid there.
I attended a retirement party today for a coworker who worked with me on the D&D case. He choked up during the event, as did others. I have a hard time relating...he's a nice guy and clearly the people there thought a lot about and meant a lot to him, but...it's just work, dude! Is that me in 20 years? I related more to the expression I imagined on his 20 year old daughter's face ("Huh? Really? Ok Dad...whatever...") than to the situation. I acted, I bobbed my head, I smiled, I tried to look like I cared - and I like the guy, but ... it's just a fucking job. They're just work people. I mean I like them and consider some real friends, but I haven't been to their house nor they mine. Am I a different generation? Are they insane? Am I insane / operating outside standard parameters Data?
I've only recently started to admit or respond that I'm an attorney, at least without saying "kinda" or "faux." I've spent decades caring more about my adolescent picture of self as a "freak," from when it meant stoner in middle-school to recently as a bisexual blue-haired club whore. Even when I cut the hair and stopped fucking based on availability, I still maintained a lot of identity there. I also maintained a lot of identity from my ability to pick up weights, run long distances, and hit people. As I grew more comfortable with each identity, it diminished in value to me.
Now I have a genuine work identity, something I take pride in (although I still laugh at it).
The more I achieve the more none of it means a thing. Once I work past insecurity, the question comes up "So now what? So what?" Aren't I really just a slacker waiting to retire and rest on me bum? Or has my hardish working behavior morphed into a habit that it's easier to maintain than to break?
Today I attended a Lexis training session on electronic discovery and the speaker referred to a "big case" as a 10 million dollar case. At the retirement, a speech mentioned as an honor the fact this retiree worked on a $200 million dollar case - my case, the D&D case which I can now say, in public, was forecast at a possible liability of $200 million and which settled for $22 million. It sucked, but the burden may have also been a once in a lifetime opportunity. I really did that? It's on my KSA sheet? Wow. I sound important - if only they knew.
For some reason with the gorgeous weather a bunch of my friends have been hit with an anti-seasonal affect wallowy pit. I have too, and while I can't pin it to weather - I can look to identity and goal issues. I had a huge work case, it subsided. I was doing goals in the gym, now I'm injured. I boxed, now I can't. I wanted to meet someone, I did and it's wonderful. Bought a house, stocks aren't terrible, I have friends here and there who don't hate me...sounds great and I know the alternative - so it is great, but ... nevertheless I've felt this silly malaise. All I can think of is that I don't have any wild goals I'm working on. I've done what I wanted to do in almost every aspect of life I ever imagined, twice. I don't really want to set bigger and better goals, change the world, not really. I think I just need to findhappiness in slavery comfort in just living rather than striving.
Or admit I'm happier striving. God I hope that's not it.
I just "friended" a guy on facebook who states his political views as "republican party" and I'm pretty sure he used to pick on me - before it was illegal, I had lists of people like him to take out (think Billy Madison, before Columbine made violent fantasy a crime). I don't trust my views from back then. The older I get, the more I think I don't know anything.
I also don't give a shit about facebook. No screen for stupid there.
I attended a retirement party today for a coworker who worked with me on the D&D case. He choked up during the event, as did others. I have a hard time relating...he's a nice guy and clearly the people there thought a lot about and meant a lot to him, but...it's just work, dude! Is that me in 20 years? I related more to the expression I imagined on his 20 year old daughter's face ("Huh? Really? Ok Dad...whatever...") than to the situation. I acted, I bobbed my head, I smiled, I tried to look like I cared - and I like the guy, but ... it's just a fucking job. They're just work people. I mean I like them and consider some real friends, but I haven't been to their house nor they mine. Am I a different generation? Are they insane? Am I insane / operating outside standard parameters Data?
I've only recently started to admit or respond that I'm an attorney, at least without saying "kinda" or "faux." I've spent decades caring more about my adolescent picture of self as a "freak," from when it meant stoner in middle-school to recently as a bisexual blue-haired club whore. Even when I cut the hair and stopped fucking based on availability, I still maintained a lot of identity there. I also maintained a lot of identity from my ability to pick up weights, run long distances, and hit people. As I grew more comfortable with each identity, it diminished in value to me.
Now I have a genuine work identity, something I take pride in (although I still laugh at it).
The more I achieve the more none of it means a thing. Once I work past insecurity, the question comes up "So now what? So what?" Aren't I really just a slacker waiting to retire and rest on me bum? Or has my hardish working behavior morphed into a habit that it's easier to maintain than to break?
Today I attended a Lexis training session on electronic discovery and the speaker referred to a "big case" as a 10 million dollar case. At the retirement, a speech mentioned as an honor the fact this retiree worked on a $200 million dollar case - my case, the D&D case which I can now say, in public, was forecast at a possible liability of $200 million and which settled for $22 million. It sucked, but the burden may have also been a once in a lifetime opportunity. I really did that? It's on my KSA sheet? Wow. I sound important - if only they knew.
For some reason with the gorgeous weather a bunch of my friends have been hit with an anti-seasonal affect wallowy pit. I have too, and while I can't pin it to weather - I can look to identity and goal issues. I had a huge work case, it subsided. I was doing goals in the gym, now I'm injured. I boxed, now I can't. I wanted to meet someone, I did and it's wonderful. Bought a house, stocks aren't terrible, I have friends here and there who don't hate me...sounds great and I know the alternative - so it is great, but ... nevertheless I've felt this silly malaise. All I can think of is that I don't have any wild goals I'm working on. I've done what I wanted to do in almost every aspect of life I ever imagined, twice. I don't really want to set bigger and better goals, change the world, not really. I think I just need to find
Or admit I'm happier striving. God I hope that's not it.
