In a this-is-a-detail-that-doesn't-even-matter kind of way, it bugs me that when Blogger archives, weeks always begin with Sunday. In my imagination (and copious record keeping), I always begin the week on Monday. Doesn't it feel that way to you, too? Does it really feel like Saturday is five days removed from Sunday -- or does it feel like Saturday and Sunday are a set that arrive like a reward when your work week is through?
Anyway, I had a wonderful Sunday. Out to pix for brunch with Nefarious. Nummy savory crepes for me, a spicy sausage & sauteed veggie hash for her. And three desserts... Which, rumor has it, is my price. En route to getting our bloodstreams pixified with sugar & spice, N pitched the idea that this be my bribe for helping her clean up the art room. I'm going to say no?
After, we went walking under a cloudless sky down Division, casually hunting for Picolo park. No good; but it's just an excuse for the company. As commented, walking is a good activity (in part) because the environment keeps prompting you with things to comment on as you pass by.
Took a while, but after pasta, we got around to the art room. I'm a miracle worker! *puffs out chest & beams* All we needed do was sacrifice a bathroom to storage space. ...But I still don't understand why someone would refuse my offer to vacuum.
And then I went boom. Thinking that I might have company, I had gotten up early (7) to put my house in basic order. Well, I hadn't gone to sleep til almost 3 the night before (writing poetry -- priorities, y'know), so I was at least a little fagged from the get-go. [A pity "fagged" can't sit comfortably in an American ear. Good word.] ...So boom I went. At the moment, I can think of nothing that touches me more than a friend who will watch over you while your eyes rove under their blankets.
Then, bless her, N drove me home. Crazy. :-)
Today was bills. Actually, a few were overdue. Eep! So not me. Fortunately, they were companies that don't seem to do anything punitive... gas, electric. Is there some kind of hidden record that powers-that-be share among themselves, recounting each day of lateness inscribed on your soul? Or is there a grace-period that they don't bother to mention? One wonders...
I tend to deal with a whole month's worth of mail in one day, so the pile was at least six inches high. Not to mention that I had to get the bills desk quasi-cleared in order to get into the task. And it is a bit of a task, cuz I make it one for myself. I keep a ledger, recording checks, debit card usage, and bank / ATM withdrawals -- adds significantly to the paperwork, but I'm never accidentally overdrawn. I like the certainty of knowing to the penny how much is in the account. Or accounts, plural, I should say, since I manage bill paying for a housemate, too.
...All of which only left two hours to get ready for the weekly Crisis Line meeting. "Only two?" you think? Well, I've developed a habit of dedicating the whole day to prep for meetings (at least ones that I have a significant say in) -- so for me, yeah, "only".
Seems like it's not just me -- most people do all their work for a committee during the last 24 hours before the meeting. Why fight it? Embrace the pattern; the sense of count-down is what gives me the motivation / adrenalin to do something cool. This is why I'm all against monthly (or even bi-weekly) meetings; I think the idea that people will get more done when there's more time between meetings is an illusion. Without the excitement of people to talk about your work with, you start feeling demoralized about the whole endeavor (whatever it is).
Huh. That was an interesting sentence I just wrote. If I took it to heart, perhaps I'd go and find some folks who wanted to talk youth lib with me. Not do activism, just yet. Just talk (which is -damn- hard for this activist boy). Not because I need the social contingency in order to produce; more cuz I'm feeling a bit demoralized about that whole part of my life. The YL bit.
The listserv I was so excited about a few months ago feels like kind of a let down now. I suppose it shouldn't. It's just that such a big percentage of my brain has been dedicated to the subject, anything less than sparkling interaction is going to be a let down pretty soon. The whole high-hopes-then-crash thing that accompanies caring. Though, if the listserv was -too- busy, then I imagine I'd feel alienated as well. I'd want to have a way to make people think of me as special, and wouldn't be able to sustain a supernova of intelligent banter, so I'd have to find a way to tell myself that for some reason these people didn't know what they're talking about. And gosh, heaven forbid people disagree with me! Caring about an issue sucks; it warps your mind.
Anyway, back to the Crisis Line meeting. Something I enjoy is building up insights about how to do a thing better. In the context of these fundraising meetings, I'm just beginning to get some ideas. For instance, two meetings ago I started bringing a sign-in sheet that I've created, so I could collect contact information for attendees in an organized way. Well, since I also send out the weekly meeting reminders, I'm getting people responding as to whether they can come or not. Which, I realized tonight, means this: getting a list of who came to a meeting is good -- but getting an RSVP list of who's going to attend (-before- the meeting happens) is even better. I think I'm going to push people to formally RSVP for meetings from now on... If I know exactly who's going to attend, I can tailor the agenda to best use these particular persons' abilities.
Meeting over, now I'm home (duh). And am I -tired-. Not counting the wonderful nap, I got less than five hours last night. Still in a deficit, though mood-wise I'm doing pretty good.
Aimee (at the meeting) was less nerve-frayed looking than last week. I was thinking that a lack of energy on her part would lead to me taking over facilitating... which I kinda want to do. It doesn't really make all that much sense to split up facilitating and agenda-writing responsibilities. Writing the agenda is like a meditation -- the person who creates it is primed to control the meeting's flow.
As it's been, I make my pretty hand-outs and then hand them over to Aimee to use however she sees fit. How does this really make sense? She's seeing the agenda for the first time -- she doesn't have any opinions about how to use it effectively. I want to make these meetings as sharp as a scalpel. ...But I want to avoid signing myself up for extra leg-work in the process. I excel at turning chaos into order. I want -that- to be how the Crisis Line makes use of me.
Have I talked about Saturday? An Angel marathon (seven episodes? more?) and two poems. 'Nuff said.
And that's the news from Planet Sven. Where all the men wear lavender ball gowns, the women have shaved heads, and the children are rioting in the streets. Be well.
Anyway, I had a wonderful Sunday. Out to pix for brunch with Nefarious. Nummy savory crepes for me, a spicy sausage & sauteed veggie hash for her. And three desserts... Which, rumor has it, is my price. En route to getting our bloodstreams pixified with sugar & spice, N pitched the idea that this be my bribe for helping her clean up the art room. I'm going to say no?
After, we went walking under a cloudless sky down Division, casually hunting for Picolo park. No good; but it's just an excuse for the company. As commented, walking is a good activity (in part) because the environment keeps prompting you with things to comment on as you pass by.
Took a while, but after pasta, we got around to the art room. I'm a miracle worker! *puffs out chest & beams* All we needed do was sacrifice a bathroom to storage space. ...But I still don't understand why someone would refuse my offer to vacuum.
And then I went boom. Thinking that I might have company, I had gotten up early (7) to put my house in basic order. Well, I hadn't gone to sleep til almost 3 the night before (writing poetry -- priorities, y'know), so I was at least a little fagged from the get-go. [A pity "fagged" can't sit comfortably in an American ear. Good word.] ...So boom I went. At the moment, I can think of nothing that touches me more than a friend who will watch over you while your eyes rove under their blankets.
Then, bless her, N drove me home. Crazy. :-)
Today was bills. Actually, a few were overdue. Eep! So not me. Fortunately, they were companies that don't seem to do anything punitive... gas, electric. Is there some kind of hidden record that powers-that-be share among themselves, recounting each day of lateness inscribed on your soul? Or is there a grace-period that they don't bother to mention? One wonders...
I tend to deal with a whole month's worth of mail in one day, so the pile was at least six inches high. Not to mention that I had to get the bills desk quasi-cleared in order to get into the task. And it is a bit of a task, cuz I make it one for myself. I keep a ledger, recording checks, debit card usage, and bank / ATM withdrawals -- adds significantly to the paperwork, but I'm never accidentally overdrawn. I like the certainty of knowing to the penny how much is in the account. Or accounts, plural, I should say, since I manage bill paying for a housemate, too.
...All of which only left two hours to get ready for the weekly Crisis Line meeting. "Only two?" you think? Well, I've developed a habit of dedicating the whole day to prep for meetings (at least ones that I have a significant say in) -- so for me, yeah, "only".
Seems like it's not just me -- most people do all their work for a committee during the last 24 hours before the meeting. Why fight it? Embrace the pattern; the sense of count-down is what gives me the motivation / adrenalin to do something cool. This is why I'm all against monthly (or even bi-weekly) meetings; I think the idea that people will get more done when there's more time between meetings is an illusion. Without the excitement of people to talk about your work with, you start feeling demoralized about the whole endeavor (whatever it is).
Huh. That was an interesting sentence I just wrote. If I took it to heart, perhaps I'd go and find some folks who wanted to talk youth lib with me. Not do activism, just yet. Just talk (which is -damn- hard for this activist boy). Not because I need the social contingency in order to produce; more cuz I'm feeling a bit demoralized about that whole part of my life. The YL bit.
The listserv I was so excited about a few months ago feels like kind of a let down now. I suppose it shouldn't. It's just that such a big percentage of my brain has been dedicated to the subject, anything less than sparkling interaction is going to be a let down pretty soon. The whole high-hopes-then-crash thing that accompanies caring. Though, if the listserv was -too- busy, then I imagine I'd feel alienated as well. I'd want to have a way to make people think of me as special, and wouldn't be able to sustain a supernova of intelligent banter, so I'd have to find a way to tell myself that for some reason these people didn't know what they're talking about. And gosh, heaven forbid people disagree with me! Caring about an issue sucks; it warps your mind.
Anyway, back to the Crisis Line meeting. Something I enjoy is building up insights about how to do a thing better. In the context of these fundraising meetings, I'm just beginning to get some ideas. For instance, two meetings ago I started bringing a sign-in sheet that I've created, so I could collect contact information for attendees in an organized way. Well, since I also send out the weekly meeting reminders, I'm getting people responding as to whether they can come or not. Which, I realized tonight, means this: getting a list of who came to a meeting is good -- but getting an RSVP list of who's going to attend (-before- the meeting happens) is even better. I think I'm going to push people to formally RSVP for meetings from now on... If I know exactly who's going to attend, I can tailor the agenda to best use these particular persons' abilities.
Meeting over, now I'm home (duh). And am I -tired-. Not counting the wonderful nap, I got less than five hours last night. Still in a deficit, though mood-wise I'm doing pretty good.
Aimee (at the meeting) was less nerve-frayed looking than last week. I was thinking that a lack of energy on her part would lead to me taking over facilitating... which I kinda want to do. It doesn't really make all that much sense to split up facilitating and agenda-writing responsibilities. Writing the agenda is like a meditation -- the person who creates it is primed to control the meeting's flow.
As it's been, I make my pretty hand-outs and then hand them over to Aimee to use however she sees fit. How does this really make sense? She's seeing the agenda for the first time -- she doesn't have any opinions about how to use it effectively. I want to make these meetings as sharp as a scalpel. ...But I want to avoid signing myself up for extra leg-work in the process. I excel at turning chaos into order. I want -that- to be how the Crisis Line makes use of me.
Have I talked about Saturday? An Angel marathon (seven episodes? more?) and two poems. 'Nuff said.
And that's the news from Planet Sven. Where all the men wear lavender ball gowns, the women have shaved heads, and the children are rioting in the streets. Be well.
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