Yet Another Sleepless Night

This past weekend I accomplished something kind of great for me.  I solved the Saturday crossword puzzle in twenty-three minutes, and I only had to look up one answer.  I actually had thought I had known the answer earlier, but I had forgotten it by time time I came back to that section.  By comparison, it took me well over thirty minutes to solve the Sudoku, well beyond my normal time limit.  This achievement was all the way greater because I had done it with barely three hours sleep the night before.  I had awoken at 3:00 am or so, and I could not get back to sleep.  I just laid in bed, thinking and trying to go back to sleep.  I have had bouts of insomnia all my life, but usually I have trouble falling asleep.  Lately, I have been waking up in the middle of the night and not falling back to sleep.  Back in high school, a friend mentioned to me some of the ways he used to help fall asleep, one in particular that he used quite frequently apparently.  Unfortunately for me, his technique never seemed to work as well for me, only about ⅓ of the time, and even then it seems to take an hour before I fall asleep.  Thanks Rob.  Anyway, I didn't try anything that night and I just kept thinking.  I have been doing that a lot lately, thinking about my future plans and how they tie into things that happened in the past.  I keep going over every mistake and misstep, every wrong decision that I have made.  Each time I waited too long, only to have the opportunity leave before I could take it.  Each time I chose not to speak up when others were making decisions for me, only for them to turn out wrong like I knew they would.  So many regrets, and I have such a hard time getting over them.  Yet, I have remembered other times, times where I followed my instincts even when logic showed otherwise.  Every time I pursued random encounters, lucky breaks, and pure coincidence, I have been rewarded.  For instance, I was going over the possible mutual friends suggestions on Facebook a month or so ago.  There was a name I didn't expect to be there of someone I knew.  I would never have found him otherwise, because he listed under his nickname.  I send the request; he accepted.  He was the first friend to send me a message first, without prompting.  He's been the one I have been chatting the most with ever since.  In one random message, he mentioned something that got me thinking about some of the ways my life has detoured, and now I have been determining how to best get back on track.  I hadn't realized how far I had detoured from dreams if not for his advice.  Now, I think constantly about how to achieve my goals again.  I have been so hung up on the past for so long, that I forgot the future.  I still need to get over my two biggest hang-ups from the past, and my next few posts will help me air out these issues.  I feel the need to reveal why I have fallen so far behind myself, before I can move forward again.  These next few weeks will go way off topic, but it is my right to do so.  Just try and stay along for the ride.  And thanks again Rob, this time without any lick of the sarcasm of before.

My First and Only Job, So Far

Hard as it is to believe, I have had only one paying job in my entire life.  I know, weird isn't it?  I never had a part-time or summer job all throughout high school and college.  My mom thought I didn't need one to learn about financial matters or a work ethic, and she worked for employment services at the time.  I didn't need the extra money for school, so I never worked.  After I graduated college in December 1994, I had first tried for graduate school, but I missed some deadlines.  So, I tries applying for some jobs.  I was going to be a journalism major, but I ended up going to school without a program or even a school paper.  I applied to a few local newspapers, but I wasn't hired.  After a few months of searching, my mother used her connections to get me a job as a paralegal for child support services.  Not only didn't I have to apply or interview, but I also think I was chosen over much more qualified candidates.  If I had interviewed, I would have found out that I wouldn't be receiving any benefits my first year (I wouldn't be staying that long anyway) and, due to the unique nature of the position, I wouldn't be receiving any retirement plan or pension as well.  I would have had to furnish one on my own.  As I naive twenty-three year old, I didn't think anything of it; in hindsight, it now seems somewhat suspicious.  Anyway, I started working with little training in legal matters or in the computer systems.  On my second day, I got a phone call from a relative congratulating me on my new job.  I got a warning for it not to happen again.  Still, I went through the motions of trying to do my job, although most of the time I wasn't really doing anything.  I re-arranged my office (only a desk and chair, I didn't have my own computer and had to use other people's instead).  I even tried to clean up the office a little, but I got a notice not to do so anymore.  I didn't see any reason why they were keeping outdated forms anyway.  At the end of my third week, I had to leave early that Friday for an appointment out of town.  The staff were busy trying to sent out dozens of letters in time to be dated before the weekend, even though I thought it was already too late.  I purposely didn't use my mandatory breaks so I could leave, but they still made me feel guilty for doing so.  The next Monday, I received some information that would have been extremely useful if I had had an interview.  I would be going to Frankfort the following week for special training, directly the opposite of what I had been told from the beginning.  My mother would never have allowed me to travel that far by myself (she still doesn't for some reason), and I would not want to either, considering I wasn't going to make this my career.  Together, we created a reason of me going back to school for a second degree (technically true) as an excuse to quit.  On the downside, I got stuck on jury duty for five months and was unable to go back to school and I missed a deadline to apply for grad school again.  I also might have gotten a bad reputation around the area (or perhaps blacklisted) because of me quitting that job.  On the upside, the rest of the staff got fired anyway a few weeks late when my employer got sent to federal prison.  So, at least I didn't get caught up in that mess.  Anyway, I was unable to get another job for the next four years, and that is how I ended up running a book store, even without any business acumen.

Stuck in the Middle Name Game

I have been wondering a lot about names lately, particularly mine.  For instance, I do not have a cool middle name.  In fact, I don't have a middle name at all; I have a second surname.  It's Hall.  Not 'Hal,' but Hall.  For much of my grade school years, I would write out my entire name on my assignments to make my name look grander.  By high school, I would write out just my middle initial instead, with or without a period.  By college, I stopped using that affectation and just go by my regular first and last names.  Unfortunately, I had already started using my initial on some forms and I still receive many documents with that stupid initial in them.  While I could change it, no regular middle names go well with my first name.  My first name has two syllables, but only four letters.  This makes it tough to match up well with it as I would need a longer name for a good match.  On the other hand, I like my first name greatly.  It is uncommon enough to be easily remembered, but not that unusual to make it hard to understand.  It is even starting to become more popular.  Just look at This Is Us.  The fourth, or fifth depending upon the plot line, male lead has my name. I have even seen it elsewhere, although I dislike it when it has an added "e" (pretentious) or when used as a girls' name (non-traditional).  And since it is the diminutive of Tobias, my name even has a Biblical connection (OK, it is from the Apocrypha, but it still counts).   Toby is even a word onto itself.  It means a figurative earthenware vessel use for drinking warmed alcoholic beverages, like mulled cider, usually with a face.  They aren't seen as much nowadays, but they are a kitschy collectable.  I even have one in the shape of a monkey.  My last name is even easier to explain, if you know German (or Yiddish, I am not sure which language applies in my case).  It literally means 'wine garden,' a venue for drinking wine, not growing or fermenting it.  Not much more to explain there, unless one remembers one of the many definitions of  hall is also a venue for refreshments, such as beer, and then things get a little more interesting.   That would make my name a combination of three different types of alcohol all mixed together in one delightfully confusing booze-fest.  An author couldn't craft a finer name for a character who is continually drinking.  All well in good, except I usually don't drink, making my name a beautiful example of irony.   It's a direct counterpoint to Sir Toby Belch from Shakespeare's Twelfth Night; not my favorite comedy, but it is second, if only for that character.