No Existentialism In The Sorting Room

Every time I sit down and try to sort out my values, hopes, dreams, etc. I find myself editing, or reworking so I have, on paper, the values, hopes, dreams, etc. I wish I had instead of the ones I really do. Most of the values that appeal to me intellectually are based in mercy, forgiveness, closeness to nature and other things from my Berkeley childhood and John Denver songs. How I act in real life tends to be based in retribution, ambition and arrogance. Reconciling my mind with my desire for messy revenge and all-consuming power is difficult, so here I am telling the Internet about it.

I'm trying to learn to whittle competently. So far, in my attempts to whittle a fish, I have made a vaguely fish-shaped block of wood and cut the fuck out of my thumb. It is fun though, when not bleeding.

My job has become the most rewarding part of my life these last few weeks. With school trying to kill me, No Exit raising my blood pressure and experiencing a profound frustration with living with my family, working makes me feel better. It feels productive when very little else does. Also, almost anything I have to do at work is based in making order out of chaos, which I find soothing. It's also nice to be treated with respect by the people I work with. At school, the worst is assumed of everyone, and in self-defense we become the worst of ourselves. At work, a basic level of respect is enough to make me display the best of myself. Or at least something better than the worst.

For some reason, the temptation to take up smoking has increased. No idea why. I resist, out of being a wimp more than anything else. I do crazy things sometimes, but inhaling smoke is not one of them. I hope.