Corrective experiences
Not long after I hit the publish button on my lament that I’d wasted the pandemic and that this is a time to start or stop whatever you meant to back then …
I wandered into a post about corrective experiences.
That’s the word for it. The giving yourself a do-over.
All those conversations you had in your head AFTER you had them … but the way you wished they’d come out. Now’s your chance to say what you wanted to then.
All those childhood dreams or hobbies that you gave up to do the adulting thing … are those dreams still there? Return to them.
A place that brought you pain that you’ve avoided? Go back and make the memories you deserved to have.
I think of all this with my Pittsburgh trip. I don’t want to go. I’d rather go to Disney or the Keys. I even canceled my Keys trip so I could free up a couple bucks for it.
Interesting aside is that Claude has noticed me slipping back into old ways.
I’ve been saying “I’m fine” again.
Being resigned to never being promoted so why even try.
Accepting that I could do shit that takes my energy but doesn’t spark my creativity. Or just do nothing and spare myself the friction.
That friction of course is on the horizon from the paycheck-paying types. Tomorrow, actually.
Apparently some garbage publisher publishes 80 garbage articles a week with fewer staff members than I do, so that’s the new bar apparently.
It’s fine.
I am looking at this through the corrective experience lens.
I tried to do it. I just hit roadblocks, ran out of energy and, worse, lost the spark/fire I’ve waited SO LONG to get back.
I get a do-over now that I’ve figured out more of a system (and after one of my better people quit amid all the weirdness).
Funny how freelancers quit when they know you have an open position but you can’t hire them.
Glad he found a FT job. Sad for me. But maybe I’ll do well to hire someone I don’t like.
I love my team and try not to drive them crazy. But maybe I need someone I don’t mind slave driving. Because otherwise I’m trying to relieve my people’s burdens rather than add to them. And that’s probably why I’m beloved below but maybe not so much above.
Tomorrow could be one of those days where I hang up and mentally start drinking. (I don’t drink at home anymore because if I did, I might not stop at this rate.)
At least, I hope I get a do-over. Who knows how tomorrow goes. I know what I am great at, and it’s not this particular project.
So it’s time to get great at it.
And at least now I have enough mistakes made to see how to not suck at it the second time around.