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Another zombielicious week over.
Everyone is trying to convince me to quit my job. My mother thought I was going to commit suicide or something when I saw her on Wednesday. My co-worker thought I was going to up and leave last week. My manager ordered me to go home early today. Steve, who was his usual insightful, frank, persuasive self, spent half an hour lecturing me over the phone tonight about how I need to either quit immediately and take a break while looking for something else, or apply to schools and stay till the semester starts.
synn's been here and gotten out.* I know they're right. If any of you were in my position, I'd tell you in no uncertain terms that it was time to move on.
So why is it so hard?
No, that's not the right question; I have several explanations and several more excuses. The better thing to ask is, how do you overcome the inertia?
It's like being in an abusive relationship. You rationalize, and play up the good parts, and swear that the next time the PsTB say something stupid or nasty or take away a privilege, you'll leave. And then they do--and you don't. Even though you know it's not true--that really, you're overqualified and stagnating, if not decaying--, you're convinced you won't be able to find another company (or school) to take you in that will treat you as "well." And before you know it, nearly two years have gone by. And some days you're just plain miserable.
*Oh, and speaking of, m'dear, I was at a client's office today and he found an old email from you while scrolling through his inbox. "She doesn't work there anymore, right?" he asked. It was a bit surreal.
Clearly the answer to all my problems was to sign up for the House het ficathon. *headdesk*
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
In one sense my job is eating the soul right out of me. (Mm, soul.) In another sense, it's just a job, and everything else is going just fine, even wonderfully. Thank goodness for art, right?
Tried "The Ninth Day" ("Der neunte Tag," 2004) tonight, since it's almost a week overdue and that's when Blockbuster makes you cough up the cash nowadays. Unfortunately, it wasn't very good. I think it was a TV movie in Germany; at least, I hope so, because that's its only excuse. Ulrich Matthes' beady black eyes and skull-face worked wonders when he played Goebbels in "Downfall," but he was impenetrable as Father Kremer, and I'm sorry, but I kept waiting for him to turn to the camera and yell "BOO!" None of the characters felt fully realized, some juicy ethical issues were glanced over while others were mentioned frequently but never satisfactorily explored, the concentration camp wasn't horrific/realistic enough (there's another post's worth of details here), and it was distracting that the film speed kept switching, from normal to slow-motion to sped-up to oddly quick as if frames were being dropped. I did like seeing how Kremer tried to adjust to normal life during his reprieve from Dachau. They could have made the whole film about that.
Well, they can't all be winners.
Everyone is trying to convince me to quit my job. My mother thought I was going to commit suicide or something when I saw her on Wednesday. My co-worker thought I was going to up and leave last week. My manager ordered me to go home early today. Steve, who was his usual insightful, frank, persuasive self, spent half an hour lecturing me over the phone tonight about how I need to either quit immediately and take a break while looking for something else, or apply to schools and stay till the semester starts.
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So why is it so hard?
No, that's not the right question; I have several explanations and several more excuses. The better thing to ask is, how do you overcome the inertia?
It's like being in an abusive relationship. You rationalize, and play up the good parts, and swear that the next time the PsTB say something stupid or nasty or take away a privilege, you'll leave. And then they do--and you don't. Even though you know it's not true--that really, you're overqualified and stagnating, if not decaying--, you're convinced you won't be able to find another company (or school) to take you in that will treat you as "well." And before you know it, nearly two years have gone by. And some days you're just plain miserable.
*Oh, and speaking of, m'dear, I was at a client's office today and he found an old email from you while scrolling through his inbox. "She doesn't work there anymore, right?" he asked. It was a bit surreal.
Clearly the answer to all my problems was to sign up for the House het ficathon. *headdesk*
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
In one sense my job is eating the soul right out of me. (Mm, soul.) In another sense, it's just a job, and everything else is going just fine, even wonderfully. Thank goodness for art, right?
Tried "The Ninth Day" ("Der neunte Tag," 2004) tonight, since it's almost a week overdue and that's when Blockbuster makes you cough up the cash nowadays. Unfortunately, it wasn't very good. I think it was a TV movie in Germany; at least, I hope so, because that's its only excuse. Ulrich Matthes' beady black eyes and skull-face worked wonders when he played Goebbels in "Downfall," but he was impenetrable as Father Kremer, and I'm sorry, but I kept waiting for him to turn to the camera and yell "BOO!" None of the characters felt fully realized, some juicy ethical issues were glanced over while others were mentioned frequently but never satisfactorily explored, the concentration camp wasn't horrific/realistic enough (there's another post's worth of details here), and it was distracting that the film speed kept switching, from normal to slow-motion to sped-up to oddly quick as if frames were being dropped. I did like seeing how Kremer tried to adjust to normal life during his reprieve from Dachau. They could have made the whole film about that.
Well, they can't all be winners.