This is my official vent blog

I normally tend to vent in a mildly humorous way. It's nice to see the happy side of things. But I think I've reached my threshold.

There is something in the water. I remember when I returned to New York (after going through 9 months of cancer treatment in upstate New York), I felt so light-hearted and easy-going, very optimistic... regardless of what I'd just been through, and the crazy things happening mentally and physically inside me, I could walk the streets of this city and smile, just being here. Before I left NYC to go home for treatment, I remember saying to everyone I was happy for the opportunity to go home, because I'd needed a break from the city. I was stiffening up, stressing out, and generally not a happy camper. I attributed a lot of those feelings to the physical effects of having cancer and not realizing it (itching my legs through most nights left me without a lot of sleep for.. oh.. about a year). But having been away from the city for so long, then being back for a few months, I suddenly felt those old feelings return. I remember getting on the 7 train to go to a temp agency one morning, and swearing at commuters on the train, when just a few weeks earlier, I'd smiled at everyone I saw.

I could feel the angst setting in. It really upset me. Was it force of habit? Was I a horrible person? Did I really hate every single person on that subway car? It felt like it at the time. It feels like it every time I walk through Times Square. Every time a telemarketer calls.

Today I wrote a request for materials to someone at one of nyc's deputy mayor's office for a place I'm working right now. He's being honored at an event. By some strange freudian slip, I'd written the last name of the Deputy Mayor wrong, completely changing the name. I got a single-line reply from either him or his office: "Why don't you get the name right first". Obviously after I'd realized what I'd done, I'd felt pretty stupid. But I'm surprised how that one sentence really ruined my night. What upsets me the most is that if I were the person that wrote me back, I probably would have said the same thing, rolling my eyes, imagining some idiot temp with no serious career prospects dawdling all day on the internet. Why should he respond to me with any amount of respect?

It's funny, you'd think you should approach a new relationship with a human from a positive place, giving people the benefit of the doubt, and if they suck, then they go down a notch. But my psychology has conditioned me to assume everyone is already a bastard before I've even met them, and it's only after the fact, when they've proven otherwise, that I can accept them. Is that a defense mechanism? Is it because there are so many people here it's overload, and our brains have to filter it out? Is it this city? This country? This generation?

Maybe it's just me. Defensive insecurities. How do people function in jobs where they have to deal with people all day? Makes me want to be a recluse in the mountains somewhere, where I never had to interact with anyone I didn't already know again. Which is completely irrational and unrealistic. Can you imagine this deputy seeing hundreds of people every day, having the obligation to interact with all of them, and needing to smile the whole time? Then getting my email and being a complete bastard. Seems really sad it takes more effort to be nice than to be an asshole. Not that I'm the first to explore that sentiment.

Ah well, I suppose I'll get over it.

I remember after September 11th being glued to the t.v., not to see images of horror, but to hear someone say something meaningful. I didn't really have much of an opinion on Guiliani, not having lived in the city through most of his time as mayor, but I remember needing him to be on the set, giving us instructions, being confident, being a leader. I felt so much better thinking someone was in control of the situation that I had no control over. I needed to put my faith in someone. At the same time, Bush would appear on t.v... I wasn't thrilled he got voted in, but at the same time, I REALLY wanted him to do a good job. I REALLY wanted him to know what he was doing, to say something useful. I kept watching, hoping his speeches would get better. But everything he said was rhetoric, and made me feel so much worse. I gave up watching after a couple weeks. Now I just wonder what the process is, who decides what is said, what committee designs an outline for an opinion, and all the steps A-Z that end up with a final result of: a completely meaningless statement.

Oh well, now I have to get back to honoring someone who is trying to put a massive building that will only house 10 condominiums that cost 25 million dollars each on an entire lower manhattan city block.

But I'm sure it will look cool.