Removing My [Metaphorical] Glasses (Because If I Removed the Real Ones, I'd Have Some Sight Problems)

I do not have particular patience with people who are overly eager to please.  When people seem to be trying that hard, I tend to get a little suspicious.  If they want to please me that badly, they obviously have something to hide, right?

 

Consider this entry your blog to the cynical Katie.  The one who occasionally wins out over the more dominant facet of the personality that wants to believe that all people are good, that the world is full of warm fuzzies waiting to happen, that you don't need to view life through rose-colored glasses because the world is naturally rose-colored.

 

The Cynic is poking her head out more often these days as I become more disillusioned with a number of things.  The current disillusionment with workforce brown-nosers stems from my job. 

 

When I graduated, I figured I wanted to find an equivalent of the last job I'd held during college.  A job that was equal parts people and project.  Human Resources seemed so ideal.  Until it became less people and more project.  And until the people became project.  (Interpretation: "At her current position, Katie feels the human part of human resources is slowly falling by the wayside while she tries to pretend that statistics about human are an adequate stand-in for the real thing.  But she truly knows they aren't.")

 

I need to find ways of re-establishing a human connection, but I'm fresh out of ideas and my prevailing mood of disillusionment and cynicism is not being helped by people I help, only to find them sniping behind my back later.  Or worse yet, exerting a valiant effort so that they later don't have to exert that effort.  All of the corporate brown-nosers have inevitably assumed positions as backbiters.  And gossips.

 

It all seemed so temporary before, but now that half of my graduate schools have rejected me, a life spent in the corporate environment is becoming more and more real.  Dreadfully real. 

 

I didn't think I would need a contingency plan.  But now I'm beginning to wish I'd planned for contingencies.  But I still have two as-yet-unreceived letters.  Two papery potentials.

 

And I'm afraid they'll explode in my face, and I will then have no ideas what to do with myself.  Indeed, I'm expecting them to explode in my face.  And then I'm expecting to feel lost.  Because that's how life works lately.

 

Ideas, anyone?