Work success

The Poodle's owner loves me - sent me a text to say how relaxed he looks after I've been looking after him.

I suppose sexually harassing me did wonders for his peace of mind.

Sounds like Snapping

So one of the problems about Operation Adulthood is that I'm trying to monitor MYSELF, rather than go for external validation. I still think this is sound - especially because I am naturally way too concerned about what other people think about me (I pretend that I'm not. But everyone who knows me knows that... well... I do care. And I'm often cripplingly self-critical). In that sense, keeping tabs on myself, and meeting standards I've set myself totally helps.

But... Because I've let myself get away with so much flakiness for so long, I also tend to have pretty low standards about some things. So: writing? Insanely and ridiculously high standards that disable me. Operation Adulthood stuff? Really, really LOW standards.

The other day, I thought I was doing super well on OA stuff - dealing with conflict at work. Now, I don't DO conflict. It's silly, but I don't. I took a little bit of conflict, and texted my sister for approval.

(Honestly, everything about that is Not Adult - I say something to my friends and bosses, and then I contact someone for APPROVAL? Especially the person I have most of my conflicts with?? Love her, but not the right move, and not the right person).

But what came of it was actually something pretty good. I recounted the situation, and then added "I'm really pleased, because usually, I just pretend everything's fine and that I'm OK for a long time and then I snap, and I know that's not fair." To which she replied "I don't know... Sounds like snapping".

She totally had a point - I was so wrapped up in my own, low, standards of not-dealing with conflict that I didn't see what was actually going on. Which was that, even though I didn't let this situation at work escalate to a complete disaster, I still let it go too far, for how I felt. Plus, what actually sucks is that the PATTERN is the same as the one that has gone towards the need for Operation Adulthood in the first place.

BUT! Onwards and upwards. I need to set those boundaries - and I need to do them without havign to ask for validation. Still, it's good to have people around who keep me honest. Sometimes.

Poodles

Also, as a I write this, a toy poodle puppy is dry humping the bedding I'm meant to be sleeping on. Essentially, my blanket is being violated by an underage, curly haired canine midget.

Great.

Movin' Out

Wow, some of the aspects of sorting out adulthood are... annoying. And sort of difficult to deal with.

I've been house sitting for the last three months, and have only finally found somewhere slightly more permanent to live.

It was great for a while, but recently, the family came back, and allowed me to stay on while I found a new place. (It's really tough to find a place when you are short of cash...). And I'm really grateful in a lot of ways - I WAS really short of money, it's hard to find a place to live, and them letting me stay there has saved me from having to live with friends and out of a suitcase for the last two weeks.

However... Living in someone else's house, especially when they are there, is really rough. And it has re-inforced something I really need to learn as part of Operation Adulthood: that if money is not changing hands, people are unlikely to genuinely value what you do. For the last couple of months, I've been a super responsible housesitter, going above and beyond - dropping off mail at weird places and at a moment's notice, looking after the garden and the plants, not having anyone in the house without clearing it with the owners, making sure I use a minimum of electricity, etc etc etc. But because I didn't negotiate a salary, it's treated as if the family are doing me a favour, rather than an exchange of services.

I'm not doing this again, because it means that you get into situations like the one I was in last night, when I was back at the house to pick up some stuff, and, all of a sudden, I was expected to move my things from the house a day before the date we agreed on last week, which in turn was two weeks ahead of the date they'd told me I was welcome to say. I ended up cleaning up my room, packing up all my stuff and then telling them that I couldn't move until the intended date, because I had already scheduled help for that day.

If they had either a) respected the work I have done for them this summer or b) had me as an actual tenant, none of this would have happened.

So: annoying conflict, insights about people, and reminder of the need for me to demand payment and respect for the things I do.

weeks, I've gone out of my way to behave like a responsible and polite house guest, and I

Saying "No" to Stuff

I'm truly dreadful at saying 'No'. It surprises people, because I'm opinionated and outspoken and, well... loud.

But I'm really bad at telling people that I either don't want to do something, or that it's a massive inconvenience to me, or that I don't have time. Remember "Ella Enchanted", the movie featuring Anne Hathaway (who I can't stand, because she comes across as prissy and entitled), where Ella is under a curse to obey anyone around her? I have more than a whiff of that. The problem is, though, that I end up making a complete dog's dinner out of all the things I commit to when I don't have time to do them. Or it makes me really stressed out. Or I just avoid answering until it's too late. Or... which is the most annoying for people I know and love, and which therefore makes me feel bad about myself, I end up bailing. Often at the last minute. Because I just can' take the stress of being over-committed and rushing, or I've promised to do something I really don't want to do, just to "be nice".

The problem is that I want to be an adult that people can trust and depend on, but I don't want to be a stressed out push over. And that balance is hard.

So I'm working on this aspect of adulthood. My experiments with saying "no" have as of yet not been super successful. I told a friend I couldn't look after her cat for free, using my work as an excuse, and she didn't speak to me for a month. Either this reflects badly on her, or on both of us; my legitimate work concerns aside, I should have also told her that I didn't want to do it. (I don't. She lives far away from me, it's a pain to get there, and I look after pets all day, every day - I don't want to do it without getting paid. I just don't. It's a great extra job, but there's only so much animal hair, feces and pet food one person can be expected to deal with on any given day).

But I'm persevering. I told a friend that I couldn't come to her birthday party on Thursday (which she sent out the invites for that day), because I had other plans and wouldn't be able to make it, but that I could come if she wanted to meet up another day. And it ended up that she was having another drinks party closer to me the next day - sweet! I told another person that whether or not I could buy flowers for his girlfriend's (who I've never met) art opening and hand deliver them to her really would depend on when and where it was, as I work two jobs. (Honestly, it's New York; there are more florists here than anywhere else outside of the tulip fields in Holland. I'm sure you can find one that will deliver. Don't be a jackass).

I'm not great at it, yet - I haven't sent off a friend's jacket that she left at mine, because it will cost me a fortune to fedex it and the regular post office is never open when I'm home, which I should have told her before agreeing to send it- but I'm working on it. Not an adult yet - but at least I've started asking myself "Am I only doing this to avoid conflict?" before I say "yes".

Non-Twenty-Something Weekend

So this is pathetic - it's Saturday. I'd decided to take my first day of doing absolutely nothing all day in a long, long time. I know what this entails - lying in bed, watching bad TV or reading, scrounging for food... maybe having a coffee late in the evening so I have a semblance of being awake when it's time for me to go out and have a few drinks in the evening.

It's not even 5 pm and I'm already bored of this, so I'm going out for a walk. And I have nice food downstairs, so I'm going to have some of that before I go out. I might do some school reading tonight, so I don't have to panic about it tomorrow. I don't know how I feel about all of this, but it's very adult.

Sorting out finances

I just did the most adult thing I have done to date: started researching how I can sort out my student loans (which are in default, because I'm poor and occasionally flaky and often don't deal with problems that freak me out, but let them fester and get much worse). It seems like it will be a scary trip, but I'm on it; and it seems less terrifying than I thought. (Which makes the fact that I've avoided it for oh... I don't know.... SEVEN YEARS a little ridiculous).

Even just looking at that basically exhausted me, but I'm going to give myself an emotional high five, for some crazy ass adulthood goodness!

Doing Laundry - Adult Stylee

I don't do laundry often enough. I hate doing it. It's SO boring, and takes time and often money and a schlepp and... bleurgh.. It sucks. It's not that I'm unhygenic (I think...), but I have set up a system of avoiding it. Thus, I have lots of knickers and socks and t-shirts, and accept that my trousers are often going to be... well... a little grotty. The "sniff test", which usually only guys do? That's my jam. My nose is finely attuned to the socially acceptable level of B.O.; much trial and more error has made me a master of this much maligned art-form.

Not to mention the state of any room I happen to live in. While the bedrooms of most of my friends have scented candles for romantic evenings with their loved ones (no single person under the age of 45 has scented candles in their bedroom for any other reason. The bathroom? Totally.The Living room? Maybe. The bedroom? Totally because they're in a steady relationship. A Very Adult One where they do things like "keep the romance alive". Bastards), and/or citronella to get rid of mosquitoes (also very adult - I hate the little critters, they eat me alive, and I always forget citronella), that's not the case for me. My bedroom historically carries a whiff of "Eau de Foot". Not a good smell. And not a good look.

So: New plan for dealing with the laundry. I normally leave it until I absolutely HAVE TO do it, and it's even more of a miserable experience. Instead, I got a much, MUCH smaller laundry bag, and I'm trying to be really good about putting my dirty clothes in it, rather than on the floor. It's full really quickly, within a few days, so it triggers my "Damn, La Fitz, you're laundry bag is overflowing; you have nothing to wear, SORT IT OUT WOMAN"- reflex. Which makes me do my laundry when it's much less painful... Regularly. Like an adult.

My room's still messy, but at least I'm doing my laundry. Baby-steps to adulthood!

Housing

I now have somewhere to live! SWEET! And I made the decision for all kinds of good adult reasons (it's cheap, so I can save, it's close to my work so it's convenient, it's in an area I like, the room's pretty), brought my cheque book so I could put down the deposit immediately if it suited me and HEY PRESTO: I have a set of keys.

Plus, the living-there dates are flexible so if house sitting ends up happening again early next year, I can move back in here. This is all super amazing, and I am very pleased. Adult-pleased. Is it where and how I want to live forever? No. But does it suit my short-term needs and long term goals? Absolutely.

Am now going to google gyms in the area, in pursuit of saunas - it gets cold in New York, and I can't have my bones being all chilly.

Getting Up Earlier

Am a chronic over-sleeper and NOT morning person. Historically, I am lost to the world until about ten in the morning - regardless of coffee consumption, alcohol consumption or stress levels. I may get out of bed, if I'm not depressed, but I am not alive when I do so. Had I ever been to Haiti, there would have been reason to believe that recent sightings of zombies was less to do with voodoo, and more to do with La Fitz having left her bed before her regular hours. It's a running joke around people I know: "You sleep like a teenager." And I do. I don't like it, though, because it also carries with it this undertone of "You're lazy", which 1) I'm not and 2) there's something about other people TELLING me who I am, especially when it's stuff which is either negative or unproductive, which trickles back into how I see myself. All of which adds up to a general vibe of artsy but stifled incompetence, which I've become way too comfortable in over the last five years.

The other problem with sleeping that much, of course, is that i don't currently have time to to do that. Not in a stressful "i have a million things to do" was, because my job is very low stress. ( At least when the canine bowels behaves themselves, and there aren't too many public transport disasters). But I need to be able to do my faffing around in the morning, so that I can do my school work at night (I still hang on to calling my doctorate "school work", even though it sounds childish - doing anything to make it feel less intimidating). I'm still happy to take naps when I need to, but I can't be sleeping a minimum of 10 hours a night at the moment. To try and fix this, I've started eating better so I have more energy, cut out caffeine so I sleep more soundly, and taking lots of different food supplements (more on this when I get back from a wedding in New Hampshire). <--- I will keep this under control; I hate food blogs with the snide passion I normally reserve for people who really care about recycling.

It's WORKING. I got up at 7.30 this morning, even though I don't absolutely have to, and am now headed downstairs to make myself a cooked breakfast. I've had the time to write this, check my emails, and am going to cook myself some breakfast. Been doing it for the past five days; and I managed to have a really good evening of writing yesterday DESPITE not being in bed all morning. An Operation Adulthood win!

Minor Setback

Have been experimenting with food of late - long story, and better post to follow when I am less poisoned - and then went a bit overboard. Read that some people with lactose intolerance/ dairy allergies can eat goat milk and cheese. Have been super stringent about not having anything containing dairy for over a week (have also been cutting out gluten), so I could "test the waters".

Bought a piece of goat cheese yesterday. Ate it today. Felt ill immediately and spent a couple of hours throwing up.

At least I know I'm definitely, unquestionably allergic, and am not "just being fussy".

(In fact, there are three aspects of this - I am trying to question assumptions I have about myself - GOOD. I disregarded my own boundaries - LESS GOOD. At least a tiny bit of this was about being worried about being a picky eater because it puts other people on edge - RIDICULOUS.) Sum total = not fabulous. But at least I know.

Grown Up Housing

I do not have grown up housing. I was loosely housed in sublets for a couple of years in New York, and then somewhat disastrously lived in student residences last year. (If anyone wants to know why movies about college kids are inane, it's because the social life of college kids is really, really mainstream, uninteresting and dull. It's only fascinating and important if it is a) going to happen to you because you are a teenager waiting to get out of the house or b) a college kid yourself. Trust me. I was a grown-ass woman living in a dorm. 45% of the time when girls in college get drunk and cry they think it's because they're not pretty. FACT. Backed by my own scientific eaves dropping.)

Instead, I have been house-sitting all summer for a friend of mine's parents. They have a palace. OK, so not quite a palace, but a three story brownstone in Park Slope, which I've had the run of by myself, barring a few visitors, for a couple of months. This sounds amazing and is great and I am grateful for my luck. But. It's not mine. Not only "not mine" as in "I don't own it or rent it", but "not mine" as in I'm staying in their son's old room, which is plastered with posters of ice hockey players and baseball games. Without space for my stuff - mainly a lot of books - which instead cover the floor.

Plus, my friends' parents are back from their holidays next week, and I was worried about invading their privacy. I thought I would have to move out before the deadline of doom strikes (I need to hand in a bit chunk of work on September 30th), and have been panicking about it a little. Until my grant comes through, I don't really have the money to move... So I would have been dependent on my wages being fronted by my bosses. And even that may not have been enough. There have been plans of living with my sister, with friends, with basically anyone who would take me in for a couple of weeks - all at a time when I'm meant to be getting down to deadline.

Normally, I would just have let this situation slide, and waited it out until it became unbearably stressful. But! Operation Adulthood being what it is, I decided to actually ask if I could stay here until at least early October. They said yes, which is great news! It saves me money, and I don't have to move while I'm on deadline.

The tricky part of staying is that they have also offered me to housesit later in the year/early next year... Which is a great offer - because, again, I would be saving on two months of rent, and part of Operation Adulthood is that I want to become more financially stable (read: less of a financial disaster). At the same time, I feel a need to settle somewhere, to actually live in an apartment for a year. So... not sure. Don't have to answer yet, but definitely one to ponder.