The Da Vinci Syndrome

Hope told me a few months ago that my variety of interests reminded her of Leonardo da Vinci. After some reflection, I saw a further connection. I once watched a documentary about Leonardo's life and it was revealed to me that he had something of a short attention span. He would begin great projects to test and expand his abilities, but he would lose interest when faced with the tedious job of finishing his works. Artistic ADD, if you will. I also find it in myself. Guitar, pennywhistle, exercise, it always seems that I lose interest. It's only when there's still excitement am I able to pursue things with vigor.

I know, great shocker. I daresay its a common ailment for most people. I continue, for my part, to seek that new edge, that next thrill. Oh, I don't often pursue any terribly risky ventures (though I would not rule them out), but there is certainly a longing for more. I think its one reason that I've always been so interested in science and technology. The geek in me finds it exhilarating to learn how the world works, to expand by that much more my grasp of Creation. The Peace Corps was also a search for adventure. Yet in my nostalgia for that harsh land I find my favorite times to be those when I was alone. My heart is still drawn across the sea to memories of getting lost in the rainy season's new growth and I find myself wanting some new frontier to explore.

Is this a life calling, or mere restlessness? Looking on history, its hard not to see it as both. Have we not always been a species that pushes and pursues? Are we not afraid that the boogyman of boredom may darken our threshold? And if so, do we truly search for new places to be, or do we search for ourselves in new places?

Eh. I don't really expect to get anywhere with these thoughts, except for a spiritual nod of the head to the eternal wanderlust within me. I confess that it feels good to remind myself that no matter how far I come, there's always somewhere else left to go.


Twilight out.

Worst Week Ever

Although Monday was pretty nice. Guess that makes it the exception.

Tuesday was when things started going downhill. I got a call while I was reading meters from one of the groups I had written an article for. They said that they appreciated it, but it wasn't quite what they had in mind. Thanks anyway. Okay, my first rejection. No biggie. Then, I got a call from my boss at the Ports Authority about the same article. You see, I hadn't cleared it with PR, and that was a big problem with them. She made sure I was coming in that day so she could talk about it, as she was already catching hell.

When you're out reading meters, most people's minds wander quite a bit. Mine tends to fixate. I found myself detached, going through the motions of reading on a warm, sunny day while my heart darkened with self-loathing and my thoughts turned to the attraction of suicide. You know, standard fare for me when things go bad.

Things were straightened out when I came in to the Ports Authority, but I was given a choice: remain an intern or pursue freelancing. Not both. I was told to call in the next day with an answer, which I did. I knew my future lay in writing, and the internship had been of little profit lately. So I chose freelancing, and my boss told me to enjoy the rest of the day and bring back my badge and things at my leisure. We parted on good terms, and I thought things were well.

Still, there was a cloud over me. Now that the internship was over, what was I to do? Continue searching for work, obviously, but I couldn't continue to leave half of my days empty. The simplest solution would be to begin reading meters full-time, but even writing that here makes me cringe. This dilemma put me in a foul mood for the rest of the day, and my friends caught on. I went out to dinner with Hope, and she helped to calm my emotions a bit, assuring me that doing things we don't like can be a good thing sometimes.

But there was that damn cloud. It hung over me today, as well. Tuesday was filled with self-hatred, Wednesday with an annoyance with the world, but today, I found myself consumed by a quiet fury. I wanted to break things. Even at small group tonight, which was filled with lots of sage advice and touching stories, I felt dull inside and restless. My left hand even began to shake towards the end. Then, another call.

It was my boss, and she was calling about yet another article I had sent to a development group about Foreign-Trade Zones without, you guessed it, clearing it with anyone. She was livid, though she did an admirable job hiding it. I left messages with the necessary people to try and clear her of any responsibility and to retract the article, and tomorrow will show if I succeeded.

Now, I lay in bed writing this on my laptop while marveling at the magnitude of my incompetence. I suppose I shouldn't be surprised. Its not like I have any real business experience, and certainly not with the red tape of a large bureaucracy. I was given warning about clearing things, though, even if it wasn't remembered. I'm either too free-spirited or too dumb. I'm leaning towards the latter. I don't know how this is going to affect me in the long run, but I damaged my rapport with my boss, and that's the worse part.

It eluded me for a while, actually. I thought what bugged me most was the thought of reading meters full-time. I don't like the idea, sure, but what turns my soul inside-out is the knowledge that I screwed up. I made a mistake that a simple "sorry" and an innocent smile couldn't fix. And someone got hurt. Professionally. She put faith in me, and I betrayed it. Its a good thing I don't habitually carry sharp things with me.

Hopefully things can be mended. I think I can catch the article before it actually goes anywhere, and groveling enough might help people forget whose intern I was. After that, I can't say. I'll do what I have to, I guess.

Such is life, in all its shambling, evanescent glory.


Twilight down.