The Republic of T.

Of A Different Mind

More on the personality thing.

There was a moment today when a thought occured to me, a thought that—upon reflection—I've had many times over the years, particularly in the workplace. It seems, much of the time, that I tend to operate on a completely different wavelength from most of those around me. It's like there's something I don't "get" that everyone else around me does. At times, when people talk to me (like a former boss I mentioned in a previous post, who wanted me to show more "ownership") even though they're speaking english, it's like they're speaking another language that I don't begin to understand; like I'm on some other frequency and I can't tune into the one everyone else is on.

I've seen it register, too, on the faces of the people I interact with, when they begin to wonder if they're getting through to me. Then they figure they aren't getting through to me, and they wonder why. I've often joked about being a "Type B" in a world of "Type As", but there really does seem to be some disconnect, some non-meeting of the minds between me and a lot of people. I guess it's a matter of just being very different in our basic approaches to the world. And trying to translate and interpret between those two approaches is sometimes like trying to reach through a two-foot thick wall of gauze. Frustrating and eventually exhausting. And most of the time it seems like I'm the one who has to stretch to understand and translate into the frequency or wavelength of those around me, because the truth is—at least in this culture— I am, and people like me are, out-numbered.

It seems almost too simplistic to pare it down to "Type A, Type B, Type C" personality contiuum. Yet at the same time there seems to be something to it. I think being in D.C. and working in and around politics kind of underscores it for me, because I work in a city and in a field that tends to attract a lot of people who are driven and ambitious, and who have accomplished a lot because of their drive and ambition. Then there's me. If I was drawn to live and work in a political city, it's because I'm an idealist I want to make a diference, but I can honestly say I've never been terribly driven (except to distraction). Most of the time, much of what I do isn't done with a sense of urgency. I can't honestly say I've ever been amitious (maybe I was at some young age, but quickly lost that trait). I've always recoiled from competition. So maybe there is something to that whole personality type thing, even if it's a little too pat to be the sole answer.

I chatted with the hubby about it this evening, as I often do when stuff like this occurs to me. Given that we're very different people in many ways, I was interested in hearing his take on what I'd been pondering during the day. His take was that I do operate on a different wavelength than most other people, and that working in and around politics would make the difference more stark at times. Then, of course, he said if I'd been the highly ambitious, driven, competitive type, he probably wouldn't have been initially attracted to me. So, what ever it is that makes me different, at least its something he loves about me. For my part, I don't love or hate whatever it is that seems to make me different from the people around me. I guess I'm just beginning to understand it and trying to wrap my brain around it. Then there's the business of trying to figure out where and how I fit into a culture that doesn't seem to have an obvious place for me.

A Normal Brain

Today is one of those days when I wish for a normal brain, rather than one that so often seems to work against my best efforts.

A, B, C...

The hubby and I got a babysitter last night, and went to a party at the home of a friend and former co-worker of mine, and on the way home we had a chance to do something that's often rare for parents of a young child: talk to each other. Not about our son, or about something that needs to be done around the house. We had a chance to just talk to each other.

On my end, the conversation turned towards something that's come up more than a few times in my life; that when it comes to personality types, I'm definitely not a "Type A" personality. In fact, I've often referred to myself as a "Type B surrounded by Type As"; especially here in D.C., a city which by its very nature seems to be a magnet to for type A personalities.

When I got home, it was still on my mind, so I looked around online, and found this test that would supposedly tell me whether I was a type A or not. I took it, fully expecting it would tell me I was a type B.

Too Few To Mention?

Jaye of winding road in an urban area writes:

Can you look in the mirror and say to yourself, "Self, I have no regrets?"

Wouldn't it be marvelous to say what you should have said when you should have said it?

Wouldn't it be grand to do what you should have done when you should have done it?

…What do you regret? How can you make peace with yourself?

Frank Sinatra (you know, "I did it my waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa-eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!") I'm not. I have regrets. It's just unavoidable. My list of things-I'd-do-differntly-if-I-knew-then-what-I-know-now is somewhat extensive. But the way I see it, I'd save my "do-overs" for the really big stuff.

How Much

Another session with my coach today. He asked me a question I recall him asking me back in the fall, "How much do you love yourself?"

I couldn't answer. I felt uncomfortable even contemplating the question. Why is that? Perhaps love of self just isn't something I learned, or learned how to talk about, my 35 years thus far.

Anyway, something to think about.

What Happens

Someone, I forget who, once said that life is what happens while you're making other plans. I feel like that today. Last week, after the boom was lowered at work, I sent my coach a copy of this post. I had an appointment with him today, and we talked about it, and about the feelings I'd expressed in it.

You're Fired

And What Thanks Do We Get?—a rather "no punches pulled," anonymous blog allegedly written a few law firm partners— is one of the blawgs I've been reading lately, as a way of getting a glimpse into the lives of law students and practicing lawyers. This one is particularly intersting as it serves as a reminder of some of the not-so-nice things that people experience in the profession.

One post spoke specifically to my experience, except from the opposite end of the experience. It was a post about having to fire someone.

I never like firing people, and I'm bad at it, and for that reason we tend to hold on to our mistakes for a lot longer than we should. We joke with each other that we have made every mistake you can in running a law firm, and even invented some, but keeping a bad employee is a mistake we have made repeatedly, and it has cost us dearly every time. We hang on for a lot of reasons: we hire people we like, for one. There is also the fact that the partners here have all endured some pretty rough handling over the time we were associates, and I think we each have in the back of our minds the promise that we made to ourselves back then that things would be different when we ran things.

I've never thought about what it might be like to have to terminate someone's employment. My experience, which kind of goes along with having untreated ADD for so long, is that of usually being the one who is shown the door. And I railed against it at times. Making the experience none to pleasant for the person who had the job of telling me to hit the bricks. The last time, I remember cutting off my supervisor (who was so nervous she had to drink an entire glass of water before she could get out the words "we've decided to let you go") when the HR person entered the room and telling her "OK. You can go now. I don't need to talk to you anymore." I think I also refused the offer to leave through the back door, choosing instead to march out the front door, escorted by the HR manager, past all the (former) co-workers of mine who'd seen me walk in that door about 15 minutes earlier.

OK. So it still smarts a little, and I'm still a little pissed about it. But honestly, until recently I hadn't really thought that it probably amounted to a pretty unpleasant experience for the people whose job it was to get me out of there. And I know the difficulties I caused as an untreated ADD'er weren't fun for anyone either: forgotten meetings, unreturned phone calls, abandoned tasks, lost documents, missed deadlines, etc. I suppose I should be grateful I lasted as long as I did on some jobs.

What gives me pause, when I think about the profesion I'm about to start pursuing, is that I still have ADD, just not nearly as bad as before. The thigns I mentioned above still happen. Just not to with the frequency or with the same degree of seriousness that they did before. But I wonder, in pursuing such a high pressure academic and professional course, if I might be letting myself in for a big of deja vu. After all, I can imagine that mistakes aren't all that well tolerated in the legal profession, since they can cost clients lots of money, not to mention costing lawyers and firms their reputations.

But then a close my eyes, take a deep breath and remind myself that I'm not planning to look for employment with a major firm or anything, and that I don't know what the experience is going to be like until I'm in it. Still, it's something to think about.

Done With Yesterday

Via Sua Sponte.

I've been reading a number of "blawgs" (blogs by pre-law students, law students and lawyers) and one of them is Sua Sponte, who posted a quote today that I think I need to tattoo somewhere on my brain.

Finish every day and be done with it. You have done what you could; some blunders and absurdities crept in; forget them as soon as you can. Tomorrow is a new day; you shall begin it serenely and with too high a spirit to be encumbered with your old nonsense.

--Ralph Waldo Emerson

Of course, I can't help but think of this in terms of my ADD. It's difficult to be "done with yesterday" when dealing with a long history of undiagnosed, untreated ADD, because with it comes a long history of mistakes and blunders that sometimes have a long shelf life. Sometimes they come back years later and derail you with consequences you hadn't imagined at the time.

As I'm preparing for the LSAT, and starting to think about which D.C. area law school I'm going to apply to, in the back of my mind I wonder just what—if any—past blunders, from my undergrad years or the years thereafter, might pop up as stumbling blocks in my past. I wonder whether I've cleared up financial blunders from the past, or whether I've forgotten something that will cause things to go awry further down the line. I wonder about my undergrad transcript, and whether it will prove an albatross around my neck, or if the dozen or so years of work experience between now and then will balance things out.

I guess at the moment I'm thinking that we're never really done with yesterday, nor is the past every really done with us. What I'm wondering is how to come to terms with it, when you round the bend and find it blocking your path, and getting around it isn't an option.

I'll forge ahead despite doubts about just how far I'll get. There are some things I can check out in advance— I can get a copy of my undergrad transcript, for example.—to see if there's anything I need to head off at the pass.

For the time being, I think I'll write down that quote and put it where I can see it at least once a day for the next week or so.

Baggage

I got a new bag today. The one I've been using most of the time—a cheap one I bought from a street vendor—started falling apart, and getting a hole in it. So, it seemed time to buy a new one. This one is particularly neat because it has a card holder I can use to hold my metro card. No losing it!

I have a "thing" about bags. It's something that didn't become apparent to me until I moved in with the hubby, who has noted the assortment of bags on the floor next to my desk. Not bags as in grocery bags, but as in backpacks, shoulder bags, messenger bags, etc. I have so many because I bought them on impulse most of the time. There's a definite reason for my collection of bags, that's at least partially related to my ADD.

Usually, when I head out to work or anywhere else, I'm carry one of these bags. If I'm on my way to work, it's carrying all the stuff I figure I might need or want during the day, which includes my MP3 player, cell phone, and PDA. It also includes at least two different books I happen to be reading, as well as a few magazines. I tend to read during my commute, but the problem is I never know just what I'm going to be in the mood to read so, rather than choose one book or the other, I toss 'em both in. Besides, the one I read on the way to work might not be the one I'm in the mood to read during lunch. And the one I read in the morning, and the one I read at lunch may not be the one I want to read in the evening on the way home. Maybe the new Vegetarian Times came in the mail yesterday, and I want to read it too at some point, so I toss it in. Oh, and those papers I brought home from work, intending to edit them? I never touched them, so I might as well carry them back.

Before I got my Nomad Zen, it was even crazier, because I carried a discman with me. That meant having to carry several CDs—like maybe four or five—because I just didn't know what I was going to want to listen to all day. At leat now I can load all the CD's and songs I could possibly want to hear in one place and just carry the Zen.

So you see, sometimes I need distractions. The world around me doesn't provide enough sometimes, so I carry extras with me. Thus my need for a good bag.

I suppose it would be easier to just pick one book and maybe one magazine, and carry less, but I have to have choices. The same rules apply to travel. The hubby and never agree on what to pack when we travel. He's of the opinion that I overpack. But my attitude is, I don't know what I'm going to be in the mood to wear two or three days from now, so I like to have choices.

Advantages and Experience

Some interesting stuff has been rolling around in my brain today. I've been immersed in the drama of Harvard Law Schoo circa 1975 via Scott Turow. (I've almost finished it.) Then there was all the talk about law school ratings. And this morning I find a post on the advantages of going to an ivy league school from Sheherazade.