21st century digital girl.

I forgot to order the canned pink salmon and usda egg noodles on Friday. I had planned on ordering both, but somehow it didn’t happen… I think I’m frying my brain capacity here, especially when it’s Friday afternoon, especially when it involves details. Between the stream-of-consciousness I get from my boss, the unending task of thinking up work for the students here, and the minutiae that is client services, I’ve short-circuited my synapses. Must have a break that does not include anything structured, especially not including arguing about what kind of structures will be participated in over the weekend.

blah, blah, blah.

When we were in Ireland we watched some very intermittent Irish television. I stumbled across this weird panel talk show, with about 15 different people making up the panel (seemed excessive at the time). They weren’t talking about incest, or cross-dressing, or being a stripper. None of the standard American stuff, right. They were talking about work, about the non-inspired drudgery that drains the soul and leaves the person flat, and what to do to avoid it. This very gentle looking man, slender and sure of himself, was speaking about how a bad job can kill you; a parasitic metaphor, it will drain you and leave you hollow and it will take all of your energy at the end of the day to just recover. And how radiant the people who are inspired by their work look.

So I thought about dhamma, and about managing a center.

I am really not sure of much, I’ll admit. But I do know that this place I’m at right now, this is not inspired. (Maybe it used to be, but it’s all been drained of its essence now.) I think of Ireland, and I am even more convinced that I’m in the wrong place (not trying to imply that Ireland would be the right place…) Need to find an escape hatch.

Here’s the kicker: I make up the 15% of all the world’s people who make over 9G’s a year. Does that make you cry? Well, if it doesn’t, this will: the bottom 60% live on a dollar or less a day. That makes me feel like erasing all of the above crap that I’ve written.

But I won’t…