paisleypiper's Diaryland Diary ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- fire station fantasy I took a night off from my studies and from the binders� for the second night in a row. I guess it is like a small version of spring break for me. Tomorrow is the second big board meeting. I have to give an update on my initiative and am hoping that we run out of time. Because, who wants to follow this bunch: I am not a big deal and it seems cruel to stick me up there in front of the big deals. But I am trying not to look at it that way. Sometimes I wonder about �the big deals� and whether I will ever join the ranks of leaders who are directly under �the big deals� in life�s pecking order. In State City, there is a man who is the head of an enormous corporation which has a division that dabbles in real estate and development. The Esquire�s husband works for the real estate section of this large corporation. And yesterday the Esquire told me that he wants to move a fire station which is currently a few blocks away to a location that is across the street from a busy part of campus and right next door to the residence hall. That this man is in negotiation with the mayor on this issue confounds me. Can you imagine what would happen if I called the mayor�s office and wanted to relocate a fire station next door to a residence hall? First, I wouldn�t actually talk to the mayor. I would probably not get past some paper message, taken by the receptionist and immediately �filed.� He wants to relocate the fire station for upscale shopping. Right now, the entire scenario is nothing more than the chatter of the people who are big deals in this town. They have a lot of chatter, so at this point, there is no need for me to run out and start a �save the fire station� group. Next week, who knows in what ways their chatter will keep them occupied and other worried. I would not want the fire station destroyed for a shopping center, no matter how upscale. I have this fantasy of living in an old fire station. I want to slide down the pole in the morning. I would replace the doors with banks of high-tech windows and my main living space would be in the truck bay. In this main living space, I would roller skate. Not inline skates, and not the white bootie skates or the strap on skates� but good old tennis shoe roller skates. I still have mine! I would also have huge parties, blasting music over the loudspeaker system (no longer hooked up to the emergency services network, whatever it is called), lots to eat and drink. People would fill the old fire station and slide down the poll. My fantasies are always populated � not because I know gobs and gobs of people now, but because I wish I could gin together a fun fete. In the evenings, I would sleep upstairs. But I would have nice comfortable furniture for life, not fire station bunks or cots. A big cushy bed with a pillow top. A bed that is actually comfortable and conducive to sleep. Comfortable chairs with reading lamps in the cozy corners of the fire station. But I wonder, and I have never reached an answer to this, would it always feel uneasy in my fire station? Would I always be waiting for the alarms to sound? Earlier, I should have made hot cocoa. It is too late now. But that does not change that my thoughts keep wandering in that direction. I wonder, what would I write if I were able to sip on a nice cup of hot cocoa with big marshmallow�s? The truth is that I keep thinking about the board meeting and feeling little. Actually, come to think of it, I don�t feel little, but I think I should. Because that is the approach that I feel is due to me. Somehow I have the impression that if I am confident about matters like board meetings, then I am not who I think I am. Although I can see myself becoming someone comfortable in this world of board meetings and giving updates and talks. I can envision myself being a skilled communicator to a group of people. This is a change for me. People in my network outside of work do not care about my work or what is going on with me in that context. People at work do not care about me because I am not �one of them.� I inhabit a lonely in-between world. This isn�t good or bad. It just is. And it happens to be a bit lonely (but not lonely at the top, because I am no where near the top). 11:17 p.m. - 2002-10-16 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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