Inconsiderate, lazy tenants

Yesterday and today I've already seen a few Christmas trees left near the trash chutes (on the third floor) at my apartment complex. How hard is it to take your tree down to the first floor and drop it off near the dumpster inside the parking structure?!  It's bad enough that the employees of the apartment complex break down boxes nearly every day because people are so lazy to do it themselves and therefore just drop boxes next to the recycle chute. 

It's ridiculous! Have some consideration and cart the tree down the stairs or even the elevator.  It's not really an extra step for the cleaning crew to sweep up the pine needles you'll inevitably leave behind. They have to clean those corridors anyway. But for them to go out of their way to haul someone else's Christmas tree is unnecessary. It's like I'm living either in a dorm where all the college kids don't give a crap about anything and haven't learned to wipe their own asses, or I'm living in a pseudo upper-class high-rise where the tenants think they only have to put forth minimal effort for menial tasks. "Jeeves! I don't want to touch the tree; I only wanted to look at it. I'm finished now. Dispose of this tree for me."

Notivation

I think I’m having my midlife crisis. I’m starting to fully realize I’ve failed at my potential for doing great and/or fulfilling things with my life. I’ve never been motivated to go beyond my comfort zone and pursue a passion. (See my last post for some examples.)

This morning, a random memory popped into my head. After I moved to California, a friend of mine I met in my freshman year of college at Western Washington University and I were chatting online. He said that we should both try to pursue jobs in radio together—that between the two of us someone had to be interested in or at least mildly entertained by our banter. (If only we knew about the future of podcasting!)  He eventually moved to Los Angeles, pursued acting for a bit and ended up doing improvisational comedy for quite a few years before he moved back to Seattle and settled down with a family.  I did… nothing really. I stayed comfortable. Worked regular jobs just to pay debt that I kept accruing.

Notivation. It’s my new word for no motivation. And I want to believe it’s a genetic defect with which I was born.

HATE SUNDAYS!

Have I mentioned I hate Sundays before? I still do. Not exactly for the same reasons as I’ve said before, although I still do waste most of my day doing nothing productive (and when I am productive, I get no sense of satisfaction from it any more). 

No, now it’s because I live alone and everyone I know seems to have a family or significant other they can spend their Sunday with.  And I don’t.  I’m OK with living alone, I’m just sick of being alone.

And I’m sick of being sick of being alone, if that makes any sense whatsoever.

Destination: Procrastination

For over a year, I've had an increasing desire to give a lot of things up.  Things.  Possessions. Stuff.  Clutter. Having things lying around disorganized around my place presents subconscious distractions. I feel unsettled when things aren't in order, like I have a list of things I still need to get done, an calmness to restore. But I haven't really done much about it.

When I watch movies, I get kind of choked up when the story has a character who gives all their free time and efforts into building up another person or saving their life.  It affects me for some reason.  I'd like to think there's still a lot of good in this world and that somehow I can be a part of it.  I've thought about volunteering at a food/homeless shelter, especially around the holidays.  But I haven't really done much about it.

I used to go to the bookstore and browse traveling books with a focus on making a difference in the world.  Books that outlined traveling around the globe for volunteering purposes.  I thought about starting a Smartypig goal for something like that.  But I haven't really done much about it.

I went to a community college a few years ago to inquire about a sign language translator certification course, even so far as to obtain my transcripts from previous colleges I attended. I've even gone to the LA Recording School to see how interesting it would be to work in audio engineering/production. I have the desire to go back to school. But I haven't really done much else about it.

I've bought a guitar twice in my life with the intention of learning how to play an instrument. I sold my first guitar and my second guitar is collecting dust in a storage closet. And I often think about buying a piano because I feel it'd be easier to start learning with that instead of a guitar. But I haven't really done much about it.

I complain so often about being single, wishing for someone to be with again, and have often thought about setting up an online dating profile at the very least just to meet new people and possibly gain friends. But I haven't really done much about it.

I love my gym

I've been telling people I really like my gym since the day I started there.  I don't get all cultist about it and try to get everyone I know to join my gym, but I do think it's an excellent place to get a solid workout.  Today it sunk in: I LOVE my gym.

There have been several reasons why I've liked it: challenging yet supportive trainers, friendly members who genuinely encourage me and care about my success, it's fun, and I'm getting results.

Today was a "friends for free" workout day, a day for members to bring friends and do a fun (but exhausting) workout together. A perfect opportunity for people to see what we do when we workout. Our gym offers free intro workouts for friends anyway, but this was a fun event where people could all participate together.  All of the trainers were there too. It involved teaming up groups of two doing a certain workout for best time.

I didn't bring a friend, but I was still lumped into the group because my trainer wanted me to get an extra workout today. I was partnered up with a guy whose girlfriend is a member, but couldn't participate due to a recent surgery on her collar bone. And this guy was much fitter than me.  The pressure was on to push through this workout!

Right off the bat, the guy outperformed me. Seemed like he was doing the entire workout alongside me without breaking a sweat. My chest was heaving for air and my legs felt as heavy as tree trunks. And other teams were doing better than us as well.

But here's why I love my gym: I could hear every single trainer cheering me with encouragement. "Keep moving," "Great job, Darrin," "You've got this, push through it!" "This is too easy for you!" It felt like every trainer's focus was on me during the workout.  I know that's not the case; of course the trainers are motivating everyone involved. But I felt like I was important. I heard other members cheering me on too that weren't participating in the workout. 

The amount of support people give at my gym is amazing. Even when I feel like I haven't done well, I continue to receive encouragement and reinforcement of my overall improvement. It makes me feel on top of the world when I break personal records. I feel worth something and I’m getting stronger. That's why I love my gym.

Friends at work

Not having friends at work is wearing me down. There aren’t very many people with whom I’d enjoy spending lunch. The ones I would enjoy having lunch with, they have very hectic schedules and not much time to eat as it is.

Having a group of friends that work at another company together and seem to neglect inviting me out to lunch any more is also wearing me down.  Especially after I’ve mentioned on more than one occasion that I miss the lunches we used to have together.  I’d like to think that it’s not on purpose, but knowing that my friends have gone out to lunch with another mutual friend that doesn’t work with them makes me feel hurt when I’m not invited as well. I think I’ve become oversensitive to it because of the fact I spend my days in an office that is a shell of what it used to be and that I don’t get to see my friends at work like they do.  In fact, they get to see the same friends after work. But all of this is another rant.

Where I work used to be fun. There used to be over 40 people in my department alone and we were all friends. Almost all of us had been to a happy hour together a time or two and most of us even more so. And it wasn’t just people in my department we were friends with.  Every department had its people with whom we’d all hang out (and some of us do more than just hang out). We formed flag football tournaments. We’d have house parties. We’d go clubbing on Thursdays, stay after-hours, sleep in our cars in the office parking lot, and go back to work at 7am wearing the same clothes we had on the night before (at least until we realized it was going to happen frequently and left spare clothes in our cars). It was fun to go into work.

Unfortunately, after a company spin-off and major layoffs, that changed the dynamic of a lot of things.  People move on and grow apart when they’re no longer working together and have other things entering their lives (like marriage, children, moving out of state, etc.).

I know it’s called “work” for a reason, but I miss when my office place was fun. I long for a workplace like that again. If not for the extreme flexibility I have where I’m at now and the pay I get, I think I’d be hard pressed to look for another job. Perhaps I should anyway and deal with the pay cut. At least maybe I’d make some new friends—ones that want to go to lunch with me; ones with whom I’d enjoy having lunch. I need social interaction!

Silly traditions

When I’ve visited my parents for the holidays over the past 7 or 8 years, we’ve always gone to Red Lobster for dinner one of the days I’m there.  Somehow, it became a tradition. Plus, those cheese biscuits are irresistible!

This year, now that I have my own place, my parents are coming down to visit me for the holidays. I’m super excited for this since they haven’t been down to California for about 8 years. My mom loves palm trees. She’s going to be so happy being here. And it makes me really happy to see her happy.

I just got an email from my mom tonight that made me laugh. She asked if there is a Red Lobster down here. “Tradition,” she said. Fortunately, there are two Red Lobsters in Orange County. Now, I can’t wait to go. But with my weight-loss challenge, I’ll have to resist those cheese biscuits!