"I am large. I contain multitudes." - Walt Whitman, Leaves of Grass

Sunday, February 24, 2008

Empty Page

I wish I were in the mood or mindset to write something fun and frothy. To write from my gut and just have words spill over - with one word hard on the heels of the one before.

There are times - not too often, thank God - when I am doubtful of my abilities and capabilities. This past work week made me question a lot of things. Inherently though, I know that this feeling of inadequacy and not being up to snuff will pass. I am determined to learn from this what I can. It just zaps a lot of vivre, that's all. And it's already been an emotional ride of a month.

I know that this won't matter a year from now. I'm just so frustrated about how things are at work. I can't seem to get anything right, dang it. I also feel like I'm being given a pop quiz and my replies aren't making the cut. To the point that I get doubtful and obtuse. So much so that I am second-guessing myself and that's no fun.

I don't mind playing the game. Seriously. I would just like to know what game I'm playing.

This past week also hit home what I've known for a while now: I like working at this level in the corporate life. I don't want to go anywhere above. I want to be able to get my hands dirty doing the work. Piglet and I have talked about this many times. Some people may say we lack ambition. Call it what you will.

I also think my writing is going to the dogs. Or at the very least, it is at an impasse of sorts.

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