Confessions of a Consumed Mind

I love it when this happens.  I am working on some ‘thing’ and it takes over my whole mind.  Nothing else matters, not food, not sleep.  There is only the THING.  And it is a good thing, a worthy thing.  It is one of those things that when I finish it, people will say, “wow” and comment on how much time it must have taken to finish it and how they wish they could do the same.

I have said those things myself, you know.  Thinking that some one is half-crazy / half-genius for the dedication they give to their own THING.

I know you want to know what the thing is, but I am not going to tell you.  Studies have shown that your brain gets the same sort of sense of accomplishment from talking about an idea as it does from executing the idea.
So as soon as you talk about it, much of the reward is gone.  Gone is the motivation to finish.

I’ll tell you all about it when I’m done.  Should be about three weeks from now…

(No, it has nothing to do with writing.) On a side note –  I’ve completely ditched the idea of ever writing a novel.  The idea of the traditional novel doesn’t really fit into our culture anymore.  I’m going to write a blog post about this someday – got the draft started…  oh no… I’ve just ruined now, haven’t I?  I’ve talked about it, now I’ll never do it.

Well, either way, it will have to wait…  gotta go work on the THING!

Did you miss me?

Map of Phoenix
Where was the show with the ballroom with the greenish floral carpet?(Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Did you notice I was gone?

A week ago yesterday, I flew to Phoenix for a Show. (as we call it in the ‘industry’)  Starting Thursday morning until Tuesday night, I spent just about 100 hours sitting at a computer in a cold, dark ballroom, cleaning up PowerPoint slides, making what we call ‘Happy Face’ picture loops for the conference attendees to stare at while they are eating and creating custom animated content in After Effects for lighting and video projection.   I flew home yesterday, went directly to bed and stayed there for 14 hours.

They tell me that it was unseasonably cold in Phoenix this past weekend.  I wouldn’t know.  I never went outside.  And that is totally normal for my job.  I’ve been all over the US and a few cities around the globe and all of it looks like the inside of a hotel ballroom to me.  How was the weather?  68 degrees and fluorescent.

But I shouldn’t complain, it’s better than a cubicle!  And I did get to see an onion-domed church in St. Petersburg, Russia once, and I’d never have done so without this job.  I saw the canals in Venice – even if it was only for a few moments as I walked from my hotel to the off-site awards dinner location.  I rode a horse on a beach in Aruba on one of the rare trips when I had an extra day to myself.

There are times when I love my job, and I feel like the luckiest person in the world.  And then there are times like now, when I am just exhausted and nothing that I did over the past week seems to have any significance despite the amount of time I spent working on it.  I’m just so glad to be back home.  Back to my boyfriend, and my books, and my games, and of course, WordPress!  🙂  This little slice of the internet where strangers read and respond to my comments and stories is so much more significant than even the most amazing animated effect I’ve done for a corporate convention audience.

Speaking of which, if you’ll excuse me, I have a lot of WordPress reading to catch up on, but perhaps I’ll be a post-everyday’er this week to make up for my absence.

Is it just me, or is WordPress such a significant part of your life that you actually miss it when ‘real life’ takes up too much your time?

 

Time vs. Money

Time is Money
Time is Money (Photo credit: Olivia Alcock)

I have a weird job. My commute usually involves a plane and my ‘cubical’ is a table in a ballroom of a hotel. I fly somewhere, work four or five 16 hour days, and then I fly home. And that’s it: job’s over and my time is my own until the next job. I do this about 25 times a year and that pays the bills. I don’t have any extra money, but I do have something that is much more valuable: time. My own time, in my own house, where I can play games and write stories and read books to my heart’s content.

But every once in a while I end up working from home. I know this is just me being crabby, but I HATE working from home. I don’t hate my job, but keep it out of my house! It feels like an invasion. It makes home feel less home-like. I am uncomfortable in a place that should be my sanctuary. (I can’t say no to this work if I want to pay the rent next month.)

I have a story in my head right now, one that I would love to spend the day working on. But I can’t, because I have homework to do. *whine* I send the homework to a client, but the client never thinks it’s good enough and always sends it back. One more revision, one more tweak until I start to lose my mind. (It would just be easier to teach the client how to use After Effects and be done with it.) They know they have me trapped because I am home. “You’re not doing anything important, right, Jill?”

Reading and writing and gaming are not important to them, those work-a-holics who think if they aren’t using every second to make money (money they never take the time to spend) that time is wasted. But those activities are very important to me. They are how I bring joy into my life.

I have arranged my life so that I work just enough. No one is dependent on me and I am dependent on no one. I don’t have fancy clothes or a fancy car, and my apartment is small, but I have TIME. When I am home, that time is should be my own.

What is more important to you, time or money?