Thursday, 29 May 2014

A minor meltdown

Happy rainy Wednesday. I'm writing at work today, which is probably inefficient use of my time, but I'm not overly concerned. I'm stuck in a funk This weekend i was supposed to go to Banff and my sister and my friend both decided to cancel, leaving me feeling too uncomfortable to go with a group of guys i haven't even seen since march. Disappointed, and a little pissed, but i deal with it.
I hate my job. I've decided I'm actually going to quit. But first i need to find something else. I showed my mother my resume, for some input and help tweaking. First, understand that i don't often share personal things with my family or really anyone. And yes it's just a resume, but it's my work history, that i created, and so it's still personal. She continued to go through it saying things like "this is so bad you should just delete it an start again" and laughing at the way i had written job descriptions and tasks. Now further background: At work a few months ago, i completed things personality 'mapping' training. You answer some questions and they completely define your strengths, weaknesses, communication style, etc. Very cool. And mine came out almost frighteningly accurate.

Alexandria's possible weaknesses:

  • Unduly affected or influenced by other's opinions
  • Feels victimised or targeted
  • may take criticism of her work personally
  • has difficulty sharing concerns and reservations except with close and trusted peers
 Now combine the resume review with these traits, combined with the fact that i feel trapped in a job that i hate, that i was really looking forward to a weekend getaway, that i want to apply for a job that seems extremely exciting to me by tomorrow (with apparently a resume that qualifies me to work at McDonald's); you reach a minor breakdown. Which is what happened. I could feel it coming on so i grabbed all my stuff and ran out of my parents' house and drove off where i could sob alone in my private smart car. The best part of not living at home is when i reach a situation that i don't want to deal with i can leave.
Which I'm fully aware is a fabulous way to address my issues [sarcasm intensifies]

Saturday, 17 May 2014

Writing is supposed to be therapeutic right ?

A have a lot of feelings. Sometimes i'm the girl from mean girls who shows up in the gym and just wants everyone to get along.
This is a warning that my first post, and potentially every one that follows, will be completely disorganized (as if the fact that my warning comes as the second line was already and indicator)
It's been one year since i moved away from ontario, where i spent the past three years at school. I spent almost the entire first year crying spontaneously and hoping to move home. When i left i was in such a frenzy of getting out the door and starting my road trip with one of my roommates, i didn't even give myself the opportunity to really process what was happening. I had also spent the entire previous month being passively aggressively furious at one of my roommates/ closest friends. On top of trying to finish and undergrad thesis, sort out and plan a trip to Africa, and just generally not fail my final semester.
After that, after Africa, after Amsterdam, i was home. Calgary for good. Work started, work sucked. In September it didn't feel as weird as i thought it would to not be going back. It was hard though, being back. When i left for waterloo, i kind of left my life here. I grew as a person in those three years than i had in quite a while. Everyone did, all my highschool friends who went our separate ways and tried to keep in touch through the occasional Skype and summer break. Three years of changing and growing led to knowing lots of people in Calgary, and being close with almost none of them. This thought was terrifying as i tried to settle into my new post-grad, adult life, complete with adult job and all the shit that goes with it.
I figured... i don't really know what i figured. That somehow i could push myself again to become an exciting person who tries new things, and goes out of her way to find new experiences in the city she's always lived in. Who isn't afraid to go to random events and try new things alone.
But i didn't. And i'm not.
I moved out of my parents house after three months of being home. I moved downtown to live in mission/lower mount royal/ cliff bungalow (a map is no help in determining which of these areas i actually live in) with a girl who posted a roommate ad on kijiji. She's fine, we're not close. I sold my car. I started paying my own phone bill. I thought all this would be my big push to get out and explore myself in this city. Mostly i sit at home and watch Netflix.

I don't know what i'm planning to accomplish with a blog. At night when i try to sleep i find myself narrating my life, so that seemed like an indication that maybe i should start writing stuff down. I have no close friends, and i don't want to pay for a shrink. Here it goes.