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Nov. 5th, 2009 06:15 pmHow 'bout that? Go, Dreamwidth. :)
Today:
- Finished all the work I want to finish for the QE doc bundle due tomorrow. :D Will move on to my (suspiciously MIA) minion's assorted duties tomorrow.
-Bewildered and alarmed Dazzled and amazed with my eloquent hand-gesture dance.
- Fixed the rest of my F-11 installation, which broke my inbox in the night.
- Made it out of dependency hell with the assistance of Rudi and Jeff. \o/ I really, really need that Linux Essentials course next week. >>
- Made an epic tactical error by telling Susan to keep up with my NaNo count. Watch as she proceeds to wipe the floor with me. XD No, seriously, I'm dead. Only my insomnia will save me.
I am pretty sure I will never know everything I want or need to know, and this makes me sad.
I was considering the abilities of Holmes as listed by Watson earlier and thinking, well, at least he'd worked out what he needed to know to do what he wanted to do, and set about achieving that knowledge. By the time he's, say, twenty-five, he's already refining that knowledge further and taking it in new and interesting directions.
Not that I'm expecting to be like Holmes, but I am finding that being genuinely interested in pretty much everything makes it incredibly difficult to pick a direction and be satisfied with it. And it's not that I do not love, love, love writing down to my bones, because I do. Giving myself permission to write and to concentrate on writing for the duration of November is more of a relief than removing your ridiculous but awesome high heels. (I mean that. My big toe is still raw from these fuckers, but they are awesome. I do not usually feel this way about shoes, let alone shoes that hurt me.) It's rewarding in and of itself - fiction and nonfiction.
But being in this job has really recalled that, actually, I really enjoyed programming. I'd barely touched a toe to the tip of the iceberg, mind you, but I am genuinely interested and I just do not have the time to act upon that interest.
I really love drawing and painting, too. And the violin, and the keyboard, and maths, and physics, and biology, and singing, and videogames, and sleeping, and cooking, and... do you see what I'm getting at, here? The need to get better at these things that I regularly enjoy is incredibly frustrating because I just do not have the time to give all of these things the attention that I want to give them. I just really love things. Lots of things. All the time. And it's annoying as fuck that there is really only time to give maybe two of them adequate attention.
This post brought to you by random musings on satisfaction and a conversation about generalists vs. specialists a few days ago.
And now I am going to make tea and write NaNo and certainly not watch Zombieland because that would let Susan get even further ahead of me and we cannot have that.
Today:
- Finished all the work I want to finish for the QE doc bundle due tomorrow. :D Will move on to my (suspiciously MIA) minion's assorted duties tomorrow.
-
- Fixed the rest of my F-11 installation, which broke my inbox in the night.
- Made it out of dependency hell with the assistance of Rudi and Jeff. \o/ I really, really need that Linux Essentials course next week. >>
- Made an epic tactical error by telling Susan to keep up with my NaNo count. Watch as she proceeds to wipe the floor with me. XD No, seriously, I'm dead. Only my insomnia will save me.
I am pretty sure I will never know everything I want or need to know, and this makes me sad.
I was considering the abilities of Holmes as listed by Watson earlier and thinking, well, at least he'd worked out what he needed to know to do what he wanted to do, and set about achieving that knowledge. By the time he's, say, twenty-five, he's already refining that knowledge further and taking it in new and interesting directions.
Not that I'm expecting to be like Holmes, but I am finding that being genuinely interested in pretty much everything makes it incredibly difficult to pick a direction and be satisfied with it. And it's not that I do not love, love, love writing down to my bones, because I do. Giving myself permission to write and to concentrate on writing for the duration of November is more of a relief than removing your ridiculous but awesome high heels. (I mean that. My big toe is still raw from these fuckers, but they are awesome. I do not usually feel this way about shoes, let alone shoes that hurt me.) It's rewarding in and of itself - fiction and nonfiction.
But being in this job has really recalled that, actually, I really enjoyed programming. I'd barely touched a toe to the tip of the iceberg, mind you, but I am genuinely interested and I just do not have the time to act upon that interest.
I really love drawing and painting, too. And the violin, and the keyboard, and maths, and physics, and biology, and singing, and videogames, and sleeping, and cooking, and... do you see what I'm getting at, here? The need to get better at these things that I regularly enjoy is incredibly frustrating because I just do not have the time to give all of these things the attention that I want to give them. I just really love things. Lots of things. All the time. And it's annoying as fuck that there is really only time to give maybe two of them adequate attention.
This post brought to you by random musings on satisfaction and a conversation about generalists vs. specialists a few days ago.
And now I am going to make tea and write NaNo and certainly not watch Zombieland because that would let Susan get even further ahead of me and we cannot have that.
