sketch
I tried to blog yesterday but it wouldn't let me in. Now I've got to be home in fifteen minutes to complete, finally, the last of the car sale. But I wanna remind myself of the things I wanna say.
--False confidence
--Safeway and receipts
--The elusive search for a 36" inseam, sweet Lord
Okay, now I'm back.
Eighteen years of school--and the good grades I earned along the way--created a sense of false confidence in my ability to 'get things right the first time.' Now I'm discovering that, really, what I often did was avoid opportunities for failure: school was easy, so I put lots of time into that work at the expense of other things I was interested in.
This is, I now realize, a stupid way to go through life. Failure is okay, and so is making a mess of things. Right now I've gotten myself into a mess, but it feels okay because I know that all of this confusion and headache and heartache will eventually lead to me getting it right. I'm not going to rush to 'getting it right,' not this time around. Not for you, or for anybody. That's a hard decision, and an easy one.
In other, unrelated news, I'm trying to minimize my impact on the planet by reducing the number of plastic bags I accumulate. Which means I've started taking my own canvas bag to the grocery store with me, and asking the cashier dude not to put my stuff in a bag when I don't really need one. (Typically I buy less than a basketful of stuff, which means that with some careful balancing I can get all of the stuff to the car without a bag and without dropping the eggs. It's a tiny bit more of a hassle for me, but it's one less bag today, and tomorrow, and the next day.)
My efforts to save a bag are being counteracted by Safeway's effort to kill a tree with every receipt they print. My receipt, for maybe fifteen things, was three feet long. No, seriously, I had to fold it in half four times just to get it to fit into my wallet. This really, really annoys me, not only because it's wasteful but also because it discourages usefulness: the whole point of a receipt is to be able to see what you purchased.
And in yet other unrelated news, I resent that stores don't carry pants with a 36" inseam. Typically I get by fine with a 34, but on the motorcyle I need something longer. I went to five different stores yesterday, in Fort Collins, looking for a decent pair of pants. I found some 505s, but I look like a peg in them. Hell.
--False confidence
--Safeway and receipts
--The elusive search for a 36" inseam, sweet Lord
Okay, now I'm back.
Eighteen years of school--and the good grades I earned along the way--created a sense of false confidence in my ability to 'get things right the first time.' Now I'm discovering that, really, what I often did was avoid opportunities for failure: school was easy, so I put lots of time into that work at the expense of other things I was interested in.
This is, I now realize, a stupid way to go through life. Failure is okay, and so is making a mess of things. Right now I've gotten myself into a mess, but it feels okay because I know that all of this confusion and headache and heartache will eventually lead to me getting it right. I'm not going to rush to 'getting it right,' not this time around. Not for you, or for anybody. That's a hard decision, and an easy one.
In other, unrelated news, I'm trying to minimize my impact on the planet by reducing the number of plastic bags I accumulate. Which means I've started taking my own canvas bag to the grocery store with me, and asking the cashier dude not to put my stuff in a bag when I don't really need one. (Typically I buy less than a basketful of stuff, which means that with some careful balancing I can get all of the stuff to the car without a bag and without dropping the eggs. It's a tiny bit more of a hassle for me, but it's one less bag today, and tomorrow, and the next day.)
My efforts to save a bag are being counteracted by Safeway's effort to kill a tree with every receipt they print. My receipt, for maybe fifteen things, was three feet long. No, seriously, I had to fold it in half four times just to get it to fit into my wallet. This really, really annoys me, not only because it's wasteful but also because it discourages usefulness: the whole point of a receipt is to be able to see what you purchased.
And in yet other unrelated news, I resent that stores don't carry pants with a 36" inseam. Typically I get by fine with a 34, but on the motorcyle I need something longer. I went to five different stores yesterday, in Fort Collins, looking for a decent pair of pants. I found some 505s, but I look like a peg in them. Hell.
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