Today, I tried something new. First off, I remembered the notebook and actually took it to work with me. Second, rather than just wait until the evening came, such as right now at 11:28 PM, to think of my ideas, whether they be for my Journal entry or for the daily prompt, I decided I would do well to write down a few interesting tidbits as note to use for when I did sit down to write. It didn’t work out so well.
While I did take out the notebook and write down the topic of my ideas, all of the details that I thought would pop back up after I reread the topic did not resurface. If I think about them really hard, I might be able to get back into that moment, but the smart thing to do would have been to write down as much as possible right then and there. If I could have fleshed out the thought process I could have refined it later on, simply making the words sound better rather than inventing the wheel to begin with.
I do remember one of the things I was thinking about, though. Surprise surprise, it was me. I was at work, putting things away and cleaning up, when I realized that I was a paradox of sorts. I love organization. I will put things away and color code and label and straighten to no end. Simultaneously, I will have fourteen unrelated orders stacked up in front of me in no particular order, waiting for me to do something, with details for each of them scattered all over the desk. Pens, pencils, highlighters, all strewn across the papers. My stapler was upside down, my tape was backwards, and my computer mouse was facing the wrong way. Somehow, I was able to function like this.
I put my work on hold; I started to clean up. I started hole punching the orders, I started stapling relevant pieces together. I place all of these pieces into the necessary binder behind appropriate tabs. That’s about when it hit. I can work in the most seemingly disorganized mess, but I love to organize, and I love to see things after I’ve organized. I love knowing that I did that. I made it look good. I made it easy to find things. All those positive feelings are because I did my job correctly. I call it the cleaning afterglow. It lasts only as long as it takes for someone to screw your work up.
Regarding the paradox of the paragon: I see paragons as a relative thing. Perfection, similar to beauty, is in the eye of the beholder. Another piece to add to that is that our perspectives change, so as we age and encounter new experiences, our definition of perfection, and therefore what would constitute a paragon, may change. Nothing in this world is constant, at least not for very long. Even the sun isn’t constant. It’s pulsing, burning. It is constantly changing, and ever so slowly dying. I definitely remember having more on paragons when I was at work, but sadly, in my failure, I didn’t write most of this down.
One final thought for the day: House of Cards has started to envelop my soul. I have watched entirely too many episodes in entirely too short a span of time. I hate how I love you, Netflix.
P.S.: I just realized that the prompt of the day changed part way through the day. That’s totally not fair. I would have written a totally different prompt. Completely uncool…