Dec 9, 2006

sometimes I realize that I don't know what I'm doing

This happens regularly.

It happens at work.

I'll pause for a moment too long, and realize that I have no idea what I am doing.

A box will be brought over to me.

A box that contains a turtle crafted out of a kitchen sponge, a small plastic Easter basket, three pieces of construction paper (each carefully sandwiched between non-acid cardboard and labeled: MOCK UP! suggesting that no actual construction paper could be spared at this time, that something terrible must have happened in the world of construction paper, that a team of mock-up specialists had to be called in to create a facsimile, that meetings were held, probably "frantic" meetings, maybe even "speaker phone" meetings), and a bottle of glue (a real bottle of glue, I checked).

You get the picture.

These items somehow make sense.

But it was never explained to me. And as I talked to people (about the items in this box), it became clear that it was never explained to anyone. And every box is like this.

So, if I don't allow myself to think, these items will be arranged in a "logical" way for the purpose of commercial photography.

But, if I think (at all) about the relationship between the sponge, the basket, the paper, and the glue - I might balk.

Not all the time, but some of the time.

Same goes when I wake up, that is, "snap out of it". My little cloud suddenly dissipates and I realize I have no idea what I'm doing.

In life.

This seems to happen a lot while on the train. Or while in line at the grocery store.

Even while arranging cheese on a platter. I proceed rotely. At first. Certain, somehow, that I know just how to arrange six or seven (disparate yet complimentary) cheeses.

But when I'm done, and I step back (away from the cheese) and I really see it for what it is (that is, cheese), I know immediately that it isn't working.

No. It's not even close to what I saw in my mind.

So, I walk away for a while. Then come back. To take another look and somehow it's gotten worse. The cheese is not attractive, but merely functional. And nothing (I mean nothing) about it looks like the cheese I've seen on platters in the past.

This is not what I had to set out to do with the cheese.

How did this happen? This applies to every facet of my life.

The bottom line - not thinking (ever) is the key to maintaining the idea that I DO know what I'm doing.

And, yes, I have talked to other people about this.

They all said the same thing. That they, "..definitely do know what they were doing. All of the time".

And I asked at least ten people.

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