Running, MFA, Work - That Sort of Stuff
3/10/2010 11:56 AM – 12:16 PM
I ran for the fourth time today. I continue to be amused by the detail that, despite the fact that I’m running intervals, my total pace is about the same as it was when I could run for three miles without stopping. Hopefully, I’ll be back to three straight miles by the end of May. Maybe mid-May. And maybe I’ll be faster than I was.
I think that I’m going to forego the calorie cutting for the most part until my body is used to vigorous daily activity. I’m just too tired by mid-way through my shift at work. Plus, it would be nice to add some muscle mass and that doesn’t really happen if you’re on a restricted calorie diet. One thing at a time. Baby steps. I was looking at MFA writing programs today. If I got into Cornell’s, they would pay me to learn to write. And that would be super-sweet. The last time I wrote an instant, it was Saturday. It was a bad day and I ended up writing for almost three hours about how crappy it is to have my job. It is. The job itself isn’t bad. Professional dishwashing is dishwashing. But it’s horrible how bad management can make a fine job crappy.
I’m getting tired of being a low-level worker. Not there’s anything wrong with it, in a moral sense, but the arbitrary whims of bosses is tiresome. It was different at the library. That was a low-level job and was, on the face of it, more stressful than dishwashing. But there I had good management. I had people higher up than me that would help and listen to me if something was going wrong. I could improve. I can’t really get any better at this job and my boss insists that I can. Offering no advice or encouragement, he writes nasty little notes, implying that I’m incompetent. Nothing that he could be forced to back up. If there’s one thing that he’s clever at, it’s his ability to dodge getting in trouble. Mostly. He keeps getting trouble for not working while he hits on the girls at work. The malicious little bastard in me gets to laugh aloud. There is this thing about trying to be a better person that is quite difficult – which parts are the things you can change outside and which are the parts that require you to change your insides. You’d think it would be easy to tell. You’d think it would be easy to do. Ah well. I’ll think more about it. I’ll sit. I’ll pray (in my own weird way). I’ll lift heavy things. I’ll go for a run. I’ll write. I’ll go to work. Someday, I’ll die. Narnia awaits. That’s what I tell myself. I’ve questioned my religion for 18 years. I think doubt has taken me as far as it can. I’ll try faith for a while.
I ran for the fourth time today. I continue to be amused by the detail that, despite the fact that I’m running intervals, my total pace is about the same as it was when I could run for three miles without stopping. Hopefully, I’ll be back to three straight miles by the end of May. Maybe mid-May. And maybe I’ll be faster than I was.
I think that I’m going to forego the calorie cutting for the most part until my body is used to vigorous daily activity. I’m just too tired by mid-way through my shift at work. Plus, it would be nice to add some muscle mass and that doesn’t really happen if you’re on a restricted calorie diet. One thing at a time. Baby steps. I was looking at MFA writing programs today. If I got into Cornell’s, they would pay me to learn to write. And that would be super-sweet. The last time I wrote an instant, it was Saturday. It was a bad day and I ended up writing for almost three hours about how crappy it is to have my job. It is. The job itself isn’t bad. Professional dishwashing is dishwashing. But it’s horrible how bad management can make a fine job crappy.
I’m getting tired of being a low-level worker. Not there’s anything wrong with it, in a moral sense, but the arbitrary whims of bosses is tiresome. It was different at the library. That was a low-level job and was, on the face of it, more stressful than dishwashing. But there I had good management. I had people higher up than me that would help and listen to me if something was going wrong. I could improve. I can’t really get any better at this job and my boss insists that I can. Offering no advice or encouragement, he writes nasty little notes, implying that I’m incompetent. Nothing that he could be forced to back up. If there’s one thing that he’s clever at, it’s his ability to dodge getting in trouble. Mostly. He keeps getting trouble for not working while he hits on the girls at work. The malicious little bastard in me gets to laugh aloud. There is this thing about trying to be a better person that is quite difficult – which parts are the things you can change outside and which are the parts that require you to change your insides. You’d think it would be easy to tell. You’d think it would be easy to do. Ah well. I’ll think more about it. I’ll sit. I’ll pray (in my own weird way). I’ll lift heavy things. I’ll go for a run. I’ll write. I’ll go to work. Someday, I’ll die. Narnia awaits. That’s what I tell myself. I’ve questioned my religion for 18 years. I think doubt has taken me as far as it can. I’ll try faith for a while.
posted by Spike at 9:19 AM
2 Comments:
I heart you.
Thanks! I heart you too. And spring. You and spring. And this chair. You and spring and this chair.
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