I haven’t written anything here in quite a while. And this particular blog post is likely to be meaningless narcissistic drivel in the near future. Seeing that this blog site of mine got a huge upsurge in followers after I wrote “Why Social Work for the Homeless?” I feel like I have to apologize to those tuning back in here that today I’m not going to be typing up anything nearly as important to my social work passions.
No, today, I write honestly – as I have often done before in the past – about how lazy and unproductive I’ve been in the past week. I don’t expect an audience for this kind of “Dear Diary” writing. I hearken back to the days I started journaling to tame the millions of thoughts and emotions bouncing around in my endless mind. This is one of those moments in which I write just to write, knowing full well the only person to really benefit in the aftermath is just myself.
This past week was supposed to be remarkable, starting off with me volunteering for HOPE 2015. Because of the forecasted “historic blizzard” (aka #snowmaggedon), it was postponed to 2/9. Getting that news was a big blow to my motivation for the week. Then a few of my classes for school got cancelled for the week. That’s no excuse but shrug, ultimately, I took advantage of the snow days, meaning, I stayed in my apartment Monday all the way to Thursday, playing a lot of video games, catching up on TV shows, and otherwise getting back into my winter break mode.
I remember that last year around the same time, I entered a similar mode. My supervisor at my internship kind of reprimanded me, saying that she didn’t understand how I wasn’t keeping up submitting process recordings in a timely manner when surely I must have a lot of free time to do so considering I hadn’t yet started having classes again. I wouldn’t say I’m afflicted with SAD (Seasonal Affective Disorder) but looking back at my past three years, well… there does appear to be a pattern in which I just kind of shut down in January. It’s now January 31st, and I feel myself recovering, which is good, cause last year this inability to get myself to engage with important duties, especially outside work hours lasted well into February. It was so bad last year that I ended up deciding to seek a therapist, which looking back was a very wise decision, as it turned out I had quite a lot of things in me to work out.
I’m very fortunate this year to have an internship that allows me a lot of flexibility. My two supervisors seem to place a lot of trust in me, and other agency leaders that I support really value my input and allow me to approach tasks the way I want to. My vision clashes a bit with upper middle management but among the team of lower-middle managers there is this strong sense of camaraderie. So I can take advantage of snow days like this and still be able to be a respected team member at my internship.
I think I’m much more motivated than I was last year. I’m a lot more involved in school. I’m a leader in Student Leadership Council helping incoming NYU students be well-oriented to the graduate school experience. My biggest school responsibility is as a secretary/treasurer of Student Collective for Global Social Work, and with exciting things planned for February, I found I was at least being somewhat productive even in my downer snow days. An idea I shared with a colleague also has turned into a really important way I digitally connect with dozens of fellow NYU social work colleagues. I also actually wrote a good amount of pages for the novel I’m working on.
I’ll probably make a separate blog post on more of my thoughts on this novel project, but I feel good that it’s finally starting to develop into something. Maybe the title for it is still a working title, but I feel at this point that it’s pretty usable, could actually end up being the official title. I’m still in the very early part – in the high school days of the protagonist – and a part of me is so wishing I was at a much later part already, as I intend majority of the novel to be about the protagonist’s sex-filled escapades during his college years while his closest friend tries her best being a single teenage mother. The ideas I have for it is pretty wild I feel, but then, just having recently watched a lot of “Broad City” and reading about some things in the show “Girls,” I get to thinking maybe this story isn’t so crazy.
It’s funny that in the early part of the novel, I had the protagonist talk about how hosts on weather channel have a cush job, that they can be wrong about their forecasts so many times on live television and yet people will still trust them. The protagonist is a snide jackass (and he fully admits it throughout the book) and this portrayal of this character really hit home with me after all this forecast about “historic blizzard” to hit in NYC and afterwards, some articles such as this one and quite rightly I think why meteorology and forecasting is quite a complex business. To that the protagonist of my novel would probably respond with a scoff, maybe saying, “Those weather people always have excuses, and always horrible right-to-wrong ratios. I just watch it because that weatherwoman is still damn hot after all these years.”
I think I wrote this in a previous blog post somewhere before but it definitely interesting putting myself in the shoes of someone that I know I myself could never be, a womanizing sexaholic small business owner/college student maintaining very odd friendships with people so unlike him, the likes of which include: a born-again Christian mathematician that believes in marriage before sex; a lesbian graduate student majoring in business who’ll have sex with men for pleasure and favors and power; a Chinese American man who prostitutes himself to pay for his college tuition; a black worker at a thrift store who’s glad to not be working two jobs anymore to support his teenage younger step-brothers and his bipolar mother. At this point I have a lot of characters and ideas in mind; who knows where it’ll actually lead once I start getting to write down the details of those ideas. It might end up to be just awful, but it feels like my first attempt (though technically it’s not, but let’s not count my high school days) and so I don’t feel like I have to meet an impossible expectation to write a masterpiece or anything like that.
There’s something about staying alone in a warm room as it snows outside. A strong part of me wanted to go outside, do something, I swear that’s the honest truth. The stronger part of me that won of course was to take advantage of the snow days, quietly hope that this doesn’t up my condition for too long. Next week I’ll find out if this past week was just a fluke or a continuing concern.