Tuesday, October 15, 2013

F this Shit.

As usual things do not work out as planned, if there was a plan.   My life is suffering from the Sunk Costs Fallacy. Time and energy were spent to reach a goal, only to find less there than I had hoped.  I have said that before, but I still cling to the notion that I should try to keep the value of that effort.  I question that logic more now.

In question what sunk costs are worth holding onto I often find myself trying to ponder what to instead.  The hope had always been that correctly applied down time would lead to an enlightenment, guiding me to what I want.  It turns out I suck at finding myself. Down time does not lead to finding a clear resolution. The question of what do I want to do when I grow up remains unanswered.  What I  have are qualifications for jobs in an industry that I am indifferent to and they fail to engage me.

Looking for work makes me bitter, I have done it too often and have fear I will have to do it again too many times.  This seaming low return on investment is discouraging.  So I delayed in all the ways I could.  Starting with 48,000 words of a first draft.  Because obsessing about the lives of explores hundreds of years into the future is infinitely more interesting than trying to write a cover letter again.  At least at the start of the period I was feeling overdue for some vacation and there was no real shame. Things went sideways after June.  So late spring and early summer saw me deep in a creative project. High summer eroded that spirit with heat and too many social engagements.

July was by all accounts a good month, many of the summer things were done and enjoyed.  Heat was deadly to my creative process, sprinting through May and June tired me, but the heat finished me off.  I describe high summer as oppressively sunny. Long hot days where I am expected to love the heat, I don't.  I can chill at the beach or in the shade but elsewhere the heat becomes something to be endured. This took a toll on my writing process.  A great deal of my thinking for the project happened in mind afternoon walks, a time of day made unavailable thanks to sun and heat.  It was not the only reason.  I did let the story line get tangled up, and found I was wanting to restructure it.

August was the cat's fault.  She ran away at 6am on July 30th. An SPCA volunteer would later extract her from the loading bay of a charity on the 5th of September. As a nearly crazy cat person this disappearance had a serious effect on every aspect of my life. Including working through most of the stages of grief.  I was a mess.  As I said she was found, not entirely in one piece but all the important bits were working.  Between her vanishing and return, along with minor complications that arose during that time my focus was on cat things.  Now mid way into October I am getting some focus which is leading me to being bitter.

Like everyone else I hate looking for work, I also feel I am worse than average at it. Gods know I was scrambling for scraps while university classmates had multiple offers on the table.  The hope was that things would get easier.  Hope is a fucking lie.  While I can still pretend that I have hope, here are some of the things I would like out of a job; Neither all drudge work or overwhelming responsibility within an organization large enough to have  different roles I could advance or transfer to.  That is fantacy.

Adding to frustrations, so many jobs are contract positions, temporary in nature.  Especially it seems with the jobs that I am on paper qualified for. Through the power of limited foresight I have created an condition where I am not very happy doing the work I am trained for, seldom likely to land a stable position.  This leaves me doubting too much.  On bad days, and this post was only written in bad days, I doubt my own judgement enough to not want to conceive of a new plan for fear of ending up even less happy.

I am increasingly wondering how much I want to remain in Vancouver.  Perhaps all I want is an apartment with less street noise and a bigger kitchen.  Or do I want the slower quality of life that a lesser city can offer.  Damned if I know.