Here’s a few late-night metaphors: I spent today looking at bedding for my future home, but while every major model will forever profess the pros of a silk pillowcase, the animal cruelty behind it just isn’t worth it. I’d rather lay my head on it’s equally capable but far more elusive counterpart, bamboo. With that, sweet dreams are far from my mind with the onslaught of rude awakenings:
- I’m done with Whole30. The literature on it seems toxic and seems darker than what it offers at the surface level. The mentality is removal of all of life’s indulgences, even going so far as to saying brown rice is bad for you. The truth? Everything in moderation, INCLUDING moderation. Brown rice every day probably isn’t the better way to live, but to say it should be removed entirely from the diet is ridiculous. Tofu gets an equally bad rap with that crowd.
- I tried to indulge my sweet tooth with some chocolate marshmallows tonight, but it just wasn’t a good time. I’ll give Whole30 that, it gave me what I wanted: a temporary detox to revitalize my eating habits.
- My Grandpa called me yesterday. Have I mentioned him yet? Retired accountant of the New York City bigwhigs, been married to my grandmother for almost sixty years, raised three feminist women in the sixties and seventies. He has traveled the world three times over and every cent that doesn’t go to hospice for my grandmother goes to charity. He is a man among men, and clearly my mom’s ability to always be right has come from him.He thinks I’m not being paid enough for what I do, and I should look elsewhere for better opportunities.
I want to start there, actually, since it’s the one weighing on me the most:
I want to stay with NBC so much, and he’s right. All this binge-watching of “Gossip Girl” has reminded me of how much I want to live in New York City, working at NBC and climbing the corporate ladder. But do you hear how vague that is? I do. I know I want the perks, but I don’t know how I want to get them. There are all the stories of people starting out in the mail room and answering phones, and then they end up buyers and department heads. I love bread as much as the next girl, but the ends of the sandwich aren’t interesting to me right now. What’s the deli meat, a really well-timed networking event? A portfolio created during off-hours as the extra pickles?
I also have to consider that I’m getting married, and Aaron will need a job in New York, too. The job has to be perfect for him, because so long as the pay is better and we can still live in something live-able, I will be happy.
Here’s the problem: I don’t know what I bring that makes me worth hiring in New York. I know that they should be paying me more to STAY at Golf Channel, but they won’t. Even worse, I’m scared they’ll fire me if I asked for more. My direct boss is great and wouldn’t, but he’s not the one writing my paycheck. I really don’t know what the next step would be. I’m fine with biding my time, but I know what happens when you “wait for it.”
I guess my next step is figuring out what gets me hired. With the company in transition, the right thing to do is not abandon them. I do care about my teammates, and the people I work with are great. I want to stay with NBC for multiple reasons, chief among them being their content and culture. Now isn’t the time for risks, but it is the time for work. It’s time for work, and time for plotting PLANNING. Ugh, Blair Waldorf’s got me scheming.
As for the nutritional wake-up call, I’m not certain on how to proceed. I don’t want to backslide into daily Reese’s Cups and weekly Asiago bagels. That said, I don’t want to live without the foods that make me happy. I have the strangest mentality about food: I eat when I’m not hungry but craving food mentally. My tummy is fine, but my brain says “You need ice cream or you’re going to set yourself on fire.” I need to curb that brain energy. I think once I end that battle, the war will end with it.
It’s all easier said than done. Control your brain’s impulses. Apply for a better job. Apply myself to be more desirable to an HR representative. Learn French (is playing the lottery and running away to London still an option?). In execution, it’s a lot of work, and I have a stack of dishes piled up in my sink.
I think I’ll go to bed. Start with the dishes in the morning. Go from there.
Maybe read a book while I’m at it. I kept falling asleep during attempts to read “An Infinite View,” and not for the subject matter. I’m sleep-deprived.
Do dishes. Read a book. Get my life together. Check, check and check.
