liberation through loss

I make lists. Lots of them. Lists of things I need to do someday. Lists of things I need to do today. Lists of things to get at the grocery store. Lists of books and films and music I want to check out. Lists of people to call. List of things I want to write about. Lists of lists of lists.

It's an endless parade of scraps of paper and tiny post-it notes that clutter my table, my calendar, my bookshelf, my pocket. Half of this compulsion is driven by a certain satisfaction in being able to cross things off, crumple a little sticky note and throw it in the recycling bin and feel like I've accomplished something. Of course, half of the lists are composed of such obvious, routine tasks it's silly. But I fear I might forget them, or neglect to do such obvious things as laundry or grocery shopping or even eating.

But when I reached in my pocket to pull out my well-worn, crumpled to-do list, it wasn't there. I was momentarily panic-stricken, until it hit me: I'd been liberated. If I couldn't remember what was on the list, then it must not be that bloody important in the first place. It just wouldn't get done.

I better go make a list of the things I remember.

none of my biz-ness

You should probably be worried about job security when your boss tells you the company can't afford to give you business cards.

Unless you work in my office. Then it's just standard operating procedure.

Instead of providing new employees with basic tools for communication, the company makes workers beg for such bare necessities as voicemail, email, and those all-important business cards. It's like the bosses think we're going to use these things for nefarious purposes.

So the trouble, of course, is that employees feel like they aren't valued or trusted. Nevermind that it doesn't reflect well on the company when employees have to scribble a Yahoo address on a napkin, explaining that the company is too cheap and bureaucratic to provide lowly workers with such simple things.

It took over six months to get my boss to sign the paperwork so I could have voicemail. It took over a year to get another boss to sign the paperwork so I could have a company email address. I'm still working on the business cards.

One of the biggest hurdles has been the condescending questioning, including this classic: "Well, why do you need that?"

Um, so other people can recognize me as a legitimate employee of this company? So I can represent the company in a positive and professional manner? Because I don't live in a bubble and I might actually meet people who, say, want to do business with the company?

Or at least they did before I scrawled my personal email address on the back of an ATM receipt for them.

ch-ch-ch-changes

Somehow, impending change is almost always worse than the change itself. It's the anticipation, speculation, the thinking too much about circumstances beyond your control. But life goes on. We roll with it. Out of sight, out of mind. Then it's easier to be open to the most outlandish possibilities. Hey, it never hurts to dream, and anything is possible when you're unconcious, uninhibited, unrestrained. Because when you wake up it's the work-sleep-eat-meetings-bullshit-work-work-work-burnout routine. You need the job to make the money to pursue the dreams. But to pursue the dreams you need the time and the energy that the job sucks away. And then you know: It's time for a change.

if only

There's something simultaneuously energizing and depressing about the hoards of people that filled my street after Italy won the World Cup semifinals. On the one hand, it's easy to get caught up in the excitement - the singing, the fireworks - and the sardine-can-like confines of Hanover Street. But damn, it's depressing that this many (and this set of) people wouldn't be out in the streets fighting the good fight. Granted, there's something vastly different about celebratory, spontaneous street gatherings and street protests. But still ... I wish people actively cared about their world and their rights as much as they care about a sports team.

which way the wind blows

While most of the sensible world agrees global warming = bad, Lonely Planet (the travel guidebook company) surprised me with its take on the subject matter. From the Iceland book:

There's an old saying: "If you don't like the weather now, wait five minutes - it will probably get worse."

But don't be put off. In recent years, Iceland has benefited from global climate changes, and summers have been relatively pleasant - the summer of 2003 was the warmest on record, and the previous winter was so mild that the ski season was a disaster.

And that's a benefit? Yes, when it gets so warm the gulf stream changes and Iceland is more like its name implies (whatever's still above sea level, anyway), that'll be just wonderful.

Then again, the book later blames a recent recession on fishing quotas, but it apparently didn't occur to the writers that had the overfishing (which is mentioned) continued, there would be no fishing industry left.

Capitalism, of course, isn't concerned with sustainability, and people tend to forget that both supply and demand are, in fact, finite. And I guess I momentarily forgot how Lonely Planet is a corporation trying to survive in a world run by capitalists, despite my perceptions that the company's writers were more in tune with those of ecotourists and travelers who vow to leave no trace behind.