Truthbombs

Saw this today in a Reddit thread about people with high IQ's and what they do with their lives:

"Challenges take efforts, and if you've grown up with higher than average intelligence, everything was easy when [you were] a kid, so as an adult, making efforts is very, very tough."

This, in a nutshell, is my life.

I'm not a polymath like Tony Stark or Stephen Hawking (yes, I realize one of these is a fictional person... just go with it), but when I've had my IQ tested on numerous occasions, the number has been well above average. Growing up, nothing about school was challenging and, as a result, I really didn't give a crap about doing homework or putting effort into projects, because I simply didn't care enough about them. So, despite being rather smart, my grades were abysmal. After dropping out of college, my career followed much the same path: I couldn't hold down a job because I would quickly lose interest in whatever it was and subsequently move on.

And here I am, 36 years old, with no college degree, no direction in my career, challenged by nothing, but unable to make the effort to challenge myself because I've simply never done it before and have no idea how to go about doing it.

A week and some change

I tried to write something longer than usual about the happenings here, but it got to be too much, too deep, too heavy, and I tossed it in the bin as a result. Suffice to say, it's been a strange, horrifying, gut wrenching, at times hopeful, at times sorrowful, tense, and emotionally charged week.

Things are getting back to normal. And by normal I mean that, once again, a municipality here in Massachusetts decided it was necessary to tow my car to an undisclosed location because they wanted to spend seventeen seconds running a street sweeper along the block. It's cool: I didn't need that $150 dollars. Here. You have it.

I am very much looking forward to the day that I own my own house and have my own driveway and/or garage, so that I won't have to deal with this shit anymore.

Eye-luh

It always cracks me up when I go on for years and years thinking that a word is pronounced a certain way, and then suddenly discover that I've been saying it wrong all along.

I love Scotch. I am particularly fond of the varieties from Islay, of which Laphroaig is my favorite. (I am imbibing a wee dram as I type this.) Last month, the lady and I went on a vacation to the UK, and we agreed that I needed to see the distillery on that peat covered isle where so many of my hard earned dollars had gone. Unfortunately fate, in the form of a broken ferry, prevented me from seeing it, but some good did come out of the trip.

I learned that Islay is not pronounced how I've been saying it all these years: 'Is-Lay'. It is, in fact, pronounced 'Eye-luh'.

Obviously I need a time machine so I can go back and tell people forming the language to give it a more obvious spelling.

Jerks.

A paragraph a day...

...is rapidly turning into a paragraph a week.

There are projects I get myself into all the time that I know will be good for me -my esteem, my thought processes, my creativity- but so many times I lack the discipline to see them through to the end, and that makes me feel like a finicky teenager and not the adult that I am. I want to do them, but somehow I manage to forget to do them.

I could set up a calendar reminder to do this, but that would depend on me remembering to actually create the calendar entry, and then when the reminder pops up on my phone or my email, I'll have to actually pay attention to it instead of simply acknowledging it then dismissing it.

Maybe someone could program a calendar that checks my blog to see if there's an entry before allowing me to dismiss the reminder...

x + y = z

If I want to get this degree done in a reasonable amount of time, then I'm going to need to test out of some classes to save time and money. I used to be really good in math back in high school, but didn't take any classes when I first went to college. I haven't looked at a math book or solved a practice problem in over 20 years.

I checked out a college algebra book at work so as to "brush up". I simply don't understand any of it now. It all looks like gibberish to me, and I'm suddenly very worried that it is going to take me longer, much longer, than I anticipated to get ready to take the exam.

I'm really terrified even thinking about trying to test out of chemistry or physics.

Doctor Who?

I have loved this show since I first saw it as a kid, and now that it's back, I feel like a kid all over again. With the new season, I feel especially nostalgic: the totally retro opening credits, the all synthesizer theme music, the completely old school console room, and the out of place clothing on the Doctor, all make me feel like a squeamish kid who can't wait to see what's next. I'm really curious how this season is going to turn out.

Bonus points: it's captioned, so my deaf lady friend can watch it with me.

Not my forte.

I don't think I'm cut out for creative writing. I simply cannot pull something interesting and original out of my ass and make it something people will want to read. I need a subject that requires research and thought. I've been staring at this blank slate for over 20 minutes without one single solid idea coming into my head. This is, of course, a miniature representation of my life in general: people ask my opinion or for suggestions... AND I'VE GOT NOTHING.

I have class tomorrow, so hopefully I'll get some ideas. Or not. We'll see.