Classless
You know sometimes when you have to train up on a new skill at work and it stresses you the hell out? And it's not your fault really because you were supposed to have already used this one tool that everyone else took a week long class on but you didn't because it's out of scope for your job so they never signed you up? So you start off at a huge disadvantage in the new training course, the advanced version of the one you never took, and you don't even know the words the guy is saying on much less why he's saying them? And he's actually awful at it too, you didn't realize a voice could be so monotone and so you mute your computer while he's teaching so you can wait for the emailed video, but you know you don't actually plan on listening to that either. It's still his voice, just later in the day.
So you do things to distract yourself until the meeting ends, you fix the fussy printer, you start printing off your mental queue of documents, sheet music for the piano, the directions to craft project you didn't finish last Christmas (you have 11 days of Christmas ornaments, not 12), and then you practice the sheet music only then realizing you paid $5 for a song that only Asians who stuck with piano lessons for more than three years can hope to play. You've always had man hands but the spread on the chords is even unreasonable for you (4 notes on one hand? Why the hell does that fifth chord have another note clinging onto it like a dingleberry, this isn't even a 7th it's some sort of mutant 7th).
Then you do a face mask, this week and the week preceding have been stressing you out, you knew this class would suck but you didn't actually expect to suck so hard at something. Your skin has been broken out for a solid 9 days now and you're hoping this fucking stiff mud will somehow transform you into a decent looking human but the stress from work isn't helping the skin at all. So you get more stressed. You wonder how you've pissed the skin gods off so royally but see the irony and vicious circle jerk of break outs at work. What kind of body function came up with the bright idea that if you're already stressed that angry red dots on your face would somehow make it better, not significantly worse leading to more stress? Oh I know! The same stupid body function that says if the food tastes good it should break you out. You're on you're period? Break out. Big date? Break out. Slept weird? Break out. If I ever get married and plan on looking somewhat human I know I'll just need to avoid letting my brain knowing the actual date and just one day have my boyfriend come around with an officiant and pop out like Publishers Clearing House.
So now you sit down with your freshly mudded face to combat the class once again and unmute the man only to be so repulsed by his voice you immediately mute him again and start to email your boss that you're probably going to fail the class. It's not your fault, it's like starting a marathon an hour before the race ends and honestly you just don't want to. So you start emailing around looking for resources that aren't this class, you can teach yourself. That's preferable. Except it's not. The material is so painstakingly boring that every fiber of your being pushes you away from the new found information and you start to question you're entire life and wonder why you traded happiness for software. You had other options! You could have been something else! You could have actually practiced other stuff and gotten good at it, but instead you took Adderall in college and powered through Accounting laws and setting up databases.
The class finally ends and you're relieved, but there is homework. Homework that replicates things that may or may not have been taught during class, you don't know, you weren't listening. So you avoid it. Hey at least you finally cancelled that membership to Grove Collaborative, you took out the recycling, you took a walk. But all the while you're getting more stressed with the dark cloud of homework looming above. So you say fuck it! I will try. I will do this. Because this procrastination is only making it worse. It's like sitting in a pit with a viper. Until you deal with the situation you will be stressed. So you start, but you quickly realize you don't have the slightest clue how to deal with a viper. You are literally as equally equipped to handle a deadly venomous snake as you are to start doing Data Conversions Triage.
You know in college when you'd go to tailgates and everyone would get super drunk and you'd go but then leave to hit the gym and take a nap? Or you'd go to the tailgate but not drink because day drinking was always kind of lame to you? The idea of being tipsy in the hot afternoon was not appealing in the least, plus you're just tired the rest of the day. You never did it. But today you've popped open a cider and threw a straw in the bottle for good measure so you don't have to go through the arduous task of using your hands because this day has honestly been too much. And you tell yourself this doesn't matter, and you know it doesn't. You're not the first person at this company to suck at their job. You know soooo many people who do! But you can't keep avoiding the inevitable that for the first time in years you will probably fail something. That you actually don't know many things you ever flat out failed at except kickboxing but even with that you at least offered others in the class comic relief.
So you sip through your straw. You find movies to illegally stream. And you accept that failure is a part of life, all the TED talks tell you so. Normally you try first before you fail, but fuck it. The end result is the same. You're too creative for that shit anyways you reassure yourself. So you settle yourself and write a blog instead and think of how much you accomplished by not working.
So you do things to distract yourself until the meeting ends, you fix the fussy printer, you start printing off your mental queue of documents, sheet music for the piano, the directions to craft project you didn't finish last Christmas (you have 11 days of Christmas ornaments, not 12), and then you practice the sheet music only then realizing you paid $5 for a song that only Asians who stuck with piano lessons for more than three years can hope to play. You've always had man hands but the spread on the chords is even unreasonable for you (4 notes on one hand? Why the hell does that fifth chord have another note clinging onto it like a dingleberry, this isn't even a 7th it's some sort of mutant 7th).
Then you do a face mask, this week and the week preceding have been stressing you out, you knew this class would suck but you didn't actually expect to suck so hard at something. Your skin has been broken out for a solid 9 days now and you're hoping this fucking stiff mud will somehow transform you into a decent looking human but the stress from work isn't helping the skin at all. So you get more stressed. You wonder how you've pissed the skin gods off so royally but see the irony and vicious circle jerk of break outs at work. What kind of body function came up with the bright idea that if you're already stressed that angry red dots on your face would somehow make it better, not significantly worse leading to more stress? Oh I know! The same stupid body function that says if the food tastes good it should break you out. You're on you're period? Break out. Big date? Break out. Slept weird? Break out. If I ever get married and plan on looking somewhat human I know I'll just need to avoid letting my brain knowing the actual date and just one day have my boyfriend come around with an officiant and pop out like Publishers Clearing House.
So now you sit down with your freshly mudded face to combat the class once again and unmute the man only to be so repulsed by his voice you immediately mute him again and start to email your boss that you're probably going to fail the class. It's not your fault, it's like starting a marathon an hour before the race ends and honestly you just don't want to. So you start emailing around looking for resources that aren't this class, you can teach yourself. That's preferable. Except it's not. The material is so painstakingly boring that every fiber of your being pushes you away from the new found information and you start to question you're entire life and wonder why you traded happiness for software. You had other options! You could have been something else! You could have actually practiced other stuff and gotten good at it, but instead you took Adderall in college and powered through Accounting laws and setting up databases.
The class finally ends and you're relieved, but there is homework. Homework that replicates things that may or may not have been taught during class, you don't know, you weren't listening. So you avoid it. Hey at least you finally cancelled that membership to Grove Collaborative, you took out the recycling, you took a walk. But all the while you're getting more stressed with the dark cloud of homework looming above. So you say fuck it! I will try. I will do this. Because this procrastination is only making it worse. It's like sitting in a pit with a viper. Until you deal with the situation you will be stressed. So you start, but you quickly realize you don't have the slightest clue how to deal with a viper. You are literally as equally equipped to handle a deadly venomous snake as you are to start doing Data Conversions Triage.
You know in college when you'd go to tailgates and everyone would get super drunk and you'd go but then leave to hit the gym and take a nap? Or you'd go to the tailgate but not drink because day drinking was always kind of lame to you? The idea of being tipsy in the hot afternoon was not appealing in the least, plus you're just tired the rest of the day. You never did it. But today you've popped open a cider and threw a straw in the bottle for good measure so you don't have to go through the arduous task of using your hands because this day has honestly been too much. And you tell yourself this doesn't matter, and you know it doesn't. You're not the first person at this company to suck at their job. You know soooo many people who do! But you can't keep avoiding the inevitable that for the first time in years you will probably fail something. That you actually don't know many things you ever flat out failed at except kickboxing but even with that you at least offered others in the class comic relief.
Comments
Post a Comment