I’m not sure at what point I turned into my dad, but somewhere along the line I have picked up the habit of compulsively saving the Ziploc sandwich bags from my lunches at work so I can bring them home, wash them out, and reuse them. Growing up, I swore that “if I have to wash another Ziploc bag, I’m going to <insert some nebulous overly-dramatic teenage threat>!!!” Now it pains me to throw them away.
I am puzzled by this turn of events.
I’m working late tonight and need to print out parts of my projects to get them done. The color copier is “out of consummables.” The black and white had a paper jam. My options are limited because everyone who knows how to fix the copier left at least 3 hours ago.
I don’t know what consummables are (unless they are talking about chocolate, of which I am sorely lacking) so I decided to tackle the jam. 25 mintues later, I am covered in toner but I think I have removed all the paper from the SIX places it was jammed in the vast internal organs of the beast. I am elated. I have conquered the foe! I can get back to work.
Except not. Because the door of the copier no longer closes. Somehow in the process of attempting to unjam this hulk of plastic, I have angered the mass production gods. The help button says that all the machine parts must be in the correct position for the door to close. Some quick math tells me that there are about 40 million combinations of the way those knobs and levers could possibly be arranged and it was my job to find the correct one if I wanted to use the machine.
It was then that I realized the SPAWN OF SATAN resides in our copy room.
I left a note for whoever is lucky enough to come in tomorrow morning and decided to call it quits. I’m leaving now. And I will be plotting my Office Space-esque revenge the entire way home.
Copy machines: 2 , Rachel: 0
I can’t tell whether my hands are cold or my head is feverish.
Also, budgets never die. Never. They are the undead of the financial world, hoping to help the zombie population proliferate by taking you out. They are ghosts that haunt you forever. They are vampires that suck your blood. And there is nothing you can do about it.
I think it’s a fever.
I decided to spend my morning off reading. (Note: I love spending cold days lazily snuggled up with a book.) I recently bought a book called Strengths Finder 2.0 in hopes that it would help guide me as the eve of my first performance review at work draws near. I thought it would be nice to be able to tell my boss that according to both a reputable source and my past performance, my strengths are my analytical thinking and my attention to detail. And so I sat down to read. (Yes, I realize sitting down knowing what answers I want is not a good way to begin. But that’s what I do. Also, I wanted throw some foreshadowing in there for you. Dear High School English teachers: my motif is lunacy and the overuse of ellipses…)
It started off badly. The book’s premise is that when you know and focus on developing your natural talents, you will be able to achieve great things. This whole ‘try to build on your strengths instead of focusing on your weaknesses’ seemed like a reasonable idea. Use the path of least resistance, amplify (or leverage, for all you finance nerds…) your greatest asset for the greatest return – all makes mathematical sense, so I am on board thus far. And then the book used Rudy as a negative example, and all of my goodwill instantly vanished.
Background: Rudy is hands down one of my top 5 all time favorite movies. I cry every single time I watch it and can tear up fairly unprovoked just thinking about it. The movie has inspired to push through many tough situations, some athletic but most not. In short, it inspires me. To read a book that in the first chapter declared it “misguided” to idolize a man who spent so much time and effort for one play? That’s Salem Witch levels of heresy. I had to stop reading. Clearly the author hadn’t really watched the movie, right? The author missed the point. He had too have missed the point…
I had to digest this for at least half an hour. I had to reread the section a few times. And then I was able to verbalize the fundamental differences in the viewpoints between the author and myself. Rath says, “Overcoming deficits is an essential part of the fabric of our culture… And this leads us to celebrate those who triumph over their lack of natural ability even more than we recognize those that capitalize on their innate talents.” Taking the path of most resistance, for Rath, is seen as unfortunate and inefficient.
My point of view, on the other hand, is that there is something inherently beautiful about wanting to work for more than you’ve been given. There is something great about the ability to dream big. And sometimes dreams don’t necessarily play to your strengths, but does that mean you shouldn’t pursue them? I don’t think so. And maybe it’s just because I am living at home trying to (somewhat less-than-gracefully) transition from college to adulthood with little to no idea as to what I want to accomplish this coming month let alone being able to have concrete long-term dreams that I am willing to lay everything on the line for me, but I have more respect for people who dream than for people who play it safe and play to their strengths. And if you’re willing to lay yourself out there to get what you want, I will call you a hero no matter what Tim Rath says.
After my Rudy soulsearching (read: concluding that I was right and Rath was wrong), I continued on. I was a little bit more dubious at this point (SERIOUSLY? Who doesn’t like Rudy?!) but game to try and figure out what strengths I could amplify. So I finished reading and then moved on to the test. I answered 150-ish questions and got my results. And then I did a double take. Because my #1 strength? Harmony.
Seriously? HARMONY? I didn’t realize I was attempting to find the strengths of a freaking Care Bear. Harmony? Harmony?! I felt nauseated just thinking about telling my boss that oh yes, my number one strength is HARMONY can I please have a bonus? Maybe it’s just a trick – maybe Mr. Rath has a killer sense of humor and is making a hidden pop culture reference to Kiss Kiss Bang Bang and that the test was saying I was intelligent and brassy enough to go solve a murder case. Alas, if Rath doesn’t like Rudy he probably also doesn’t enjoy all the witty puns that Robert Downey Jr. makes as he narrates or the part where Harry finds the corpse in the shower, a scene that makes me deeply laugh from the stomach just thinking about it… (ummm…I am realizing now that anyone who hasn’t seen that movie probably thinks I’m a rambling nut. which is very astute of you – nice work! but you really should see the movie because it’s fantastic and you won’t regret it, I promise! and perhaps those last two sentences might make a little more sense if you have at least a basic frame of reference. now might also be a good time to put in a plug for Rudy. really, it’s another must see. watch it – today, if possible!)
So anyways, I sat at my kitchen table, feeling extraordinarily cheated that the stupid book gave me stupid strengths. And then I read through some of the material that accompanied the proclamation of my strengths. I read through the descriptions, the analysis, quotes, ideas for action, ways to build upon your strength further. And I realized that the blasted Strengths Finder 2.0 had me pegged.
And then I was angry. I wanted new strengths. I wanted my strengths to be rock-your-socks-off analysis, or amazing negotiator, or strategic planner. In fact, anything that would not sound like it was being spoken by a flower power love child would be okay with me. (my other top 4 strengths actually meet this criteria, but apparently I’m still a little hung up on strength #1…)
I wanted to wrap this up with some kind of Full House lesson where I tie everything together nicely. Right now, though, I’m just confused and trying to balance what I feel with what I know with what I want. And also, I’m still slightly irritated. Clearly Mr. Rath does not have marketing/advertising skills as a strength or else he would have known how to pick better words than damn Harmony.
I think the fact that cements it all is that I was completely convinced that I was awesome. I suppose ignorance is bliss, because I’m not sure I would have made it through grades 6-8 if I had realized how big of a dork I was. One of the single greatest things about my life right now is that there is absolutely no confusion that I am a nerd. In fact, I get paid for it. Life is good. 
Waiting until the last second to change lanes in rush hour traffic is the adult equivalent of cutting in line. Stop. Saving an extra minute by cutting everyone off does not make you a good driver. It makes you an ass.
Love,
Everyone You Screwed Over By Driving Like A Jerk
Email from me to my mom, earlier this week:
I’m getting my haircut today after work. Want to hear some of my ideas about the whole thing? Yes? Oh good.
Years of experience has shown that the amount of times between haircuts for me is fairly constant, meaning that time has demonstrated that good haircut or bad, too short and hard to deal with or too long and annoying, I still only get it cut about twice, maybe three times a year. So I spend a little while loving my haircut, most of my time tolerating it, and some time hating it.
So if you think of your optimal hair length as a bell curve, the perfect haircut would be at the top, the tolerating would be one standard deviation out, the hating another deviation after that, and then just disgusting would be the tails.
Thus this begs the question: why do I get my hair cut to the optimal length?! If I consistently wait about a deviation and a half to cut my hair, why do I cut it so that I’m guaranteed to spend time in the “hating deviation.” Logic says that I should cut it too short so that I can spend all of my time in the “tolerating deviations” that surround the optimal length.
Now I recognize that maybe there is a flaw. Maybe too short hair is less tolerable than too long hair? But what is the ratio of irritation? I don’t know. But I’m hypothesizing that as long as the too short still fits in a ponytail that the difference is minimal. Let’s say it’s twice as irritating. In which case I should get my haircut maybe a half deviation below optimal to try to keep my level of satisfaction relatively consistent on both sides of the perfect haircut.
My Mom’s response:
Just another thought — more frequent haircuts? It really is a rather pleasant experience, especially if you see Michael….
Me:
More frequent??? Pish posh. That just seems like a waste of money when you can get effective results with some statistical reasoning…
Mom:
It may not be a bell curve. Given the fact that your haircut schedule is a rare event and unpredictable, we may be Poisson territory here. So think about that. And if it is bell, narrowing the interval with more frequent cuts is reasonable.
Conclusions:
It turns out that I decided to chop it all off, not so much of statistics but because I feel like I’ve had the same haircut for about 5 years and I wanted a change. It doesn’t fit in a ponytail anymore and I am STRUGGLING. But I do like it a lot, even if I now have to blowdry every day.
Most people fall off the bandwagon when it comes to New Year’s Resolutions. Usually, it’s caused by people setting completely unrealistic or unattainable goals. But when it comes to the omnipresent “I’m going to lose weight,” I think it’s fair to say that timing is also a very big issue. People become motivated to shed the pounds on January 1st, yet they are almost always back to their bonbon ways by Valentine’s Day. Why? Because it’s freaking cold in January. Natural exercise, things like running, long walks, bike rides…those aren’t very fun on ice. But for pete’s sake, it’s time to turn over that new leaf because it’s JANUARY FIRST and all I did from Thanksgiving to Christmas was eat, and clearly this is the time to turn leaves, even if it is snowing. So they go to the gym. And they go in hoards, all of them at once trying to figure out what button to push to make the Elliptical go. They are motivated. But… they know that all the gym “regulars” are irritated by the influx, they know they don’t belong, they are intimidated by the big men doing free-weights, and let’s be honest – treadmills really just suck, but they especially suck when you have to wait in line to use one. So they stop going almost as quickly as they start. Now they are out of shape, out of money for the membership, and they’ve added on that wonderful emotional guilt that comes with failure to once again stick to the goal.
So what I’m thinking: why not make exercise goals a fiscal year kind of thing? May would be an ideal start time for me…warm but not hot, the perfect time to be outside. I understand that there are people out there who may want to get a quicker start than that though; I also understand the power of using external events are motivators. And thus I propose: the Chinese New Year resolution. It might not be all that warm still, but at least that way all the January 1 saps will have cleared out of the gym before you start. Then, you won’t feel like the awkward bandwagon member at the gym and you can go without feeling like people are rolling their eyes at you. Really, it’s the logical choice. So let’s all commit to getting in killer shape for the Year of the Rat.
