I be Jammin

So, I'm impulsive. This is not world-shattering news. I have the attention span of a goldfish. Again, this is not news. But I am getting better about controlling myself.

It used to be that I just fought against the tide out of sheer contrariness. All that thrashing and struggling made a lot of noise, tired me out, and invited predators into the area. After a few up close and personal encounters with other contrarians like myself, I pulled back, relaxed, and decided to go with the flow. And I have.

The problem is, I get bored, anxious, frustrated and impatient, just like the rest of the human race. I am not a saint. Not even close. I get busy being calm and smiley, or helpful and smiley, or responsible yet laid-back and smiley, and then whammo, the tension is building and I can feel the impulse coming on.

Tension and boredom are not a good mix for me. I start to receive impulsive little thought pictures like watching my lunch bag and keys float down the floodswollen river, or painting a sleeping sister's ear with red tempra paint, or driving to Oregon or Mexico or Las Vegas. I start to play Devil's Advocate, I stir the pot, I toss the banana peel on the floor, just to enliven things.

But I still have some self-control in these situations. I may have tickled my sister in the ear with a paint brush, but it was only at dinner, there was no paint, and she should have known better than to sit at my right side. (Never sit on my right side. I am right handed. Any sort of impulsive mischief that I can't control is coming from my right hand.) My lunch bag didn't go floating down the river. I drove to Oregon, but I stopped to buy clothing and cell phone minutes, first.

See? This boredom-induced impulse is generally not a bad thing. It's often quite fun. I have enough self-control to stay back from the ledge.

The problem is the anxiety-induced impulsiveness. This, I can't control. I know an episode is coming; I don't know how it might strike. I know I'm tense, I know I'm frustrated, I know I'm tired. And I know to keep my mouth shut when peace is important. If I don't exit the situation, I know that eventually, my self control will crack. I will do something stupid, without a thought, and I or someone else, gods forbid, will wind up hurt.

Let's take the most obvious example: I was working in a summer camp kitchen. We were understaffed, the understaffed staff were untrained, and the kitchen supervisor avoided the undertrained understaffed staff as much as possible. That left only a few of us with a clue, and let me tell you, one on one supervision is not an effective method of getting the kitchen work done. I worked, and smiled, and explained, and supervised, and calmly fixed mistakes for six weeks. I was tired, hot, tense, frustrated, and the only real way to release my tension was to sling boxes in the freezer (ie organize the walk-in.)

And one day, six weeks into the summer, after six weeks of giving near daily lessons in how to make bread, I snapped. Literally. While answering yet another 'how do you make this' question, I impulsively reached into a 30 gallon bowl to test the elasticity of the dough, tangled with the dough hook, and snapped my left arm. It was a lovely fracture. I remained calm, I put ice on it, we made the bread, and only as an afterthought was I sent to the er for an x-ray. How stupid am I? Dumb as a bread hook, apparently. Also, I was mixing tension and frustrated rage, and trying to maintain my sanity. I lost a grip on my self-control, my impulsiveness took reign, and SNAP. It was a hard lesson.

Maybe I thought I was invincible. Maybe I thought I was sane. Maybe I thought I had endless founts of patience. I learned, however, that I have an internal pressure control monitor. I now know when the pressure gauge is in the red, and I now know when to step back.

So, although the economy behind the Redwood Curtain sucks, and although I've experienced first hand just how difficult it is to find a job here, I gave notice at Qs. I'm burnt out, I can picture myself leaping over the counter and bitchslapping a recalcitrant customer, and if I hear the monkey song from the Jungle Book one more time, well, I don't know what I'd do, that's why I'm impulsive.

I'm still working as a part-time secretary, so I can get by until I find another job. I'd rather leave on a good note, than be fired for insanity, ya know? And this time, StateComp might not cover Stupidity.

Behind the Redwood Curtain