An Unattainable Standard: The Robot

I think that everyone holds themselves to a standard; be that as it may, the standards differ. I have one friend who dresses like he’s homeless under the impression that if he “looks homeless, then nobody will ever rob him.” Not that this is necessarily his standard, because he works really hard in his life, it’s just an interesting standard he has. Furthering that thought, I had a friend once who had a standard for the people that she interacted with – they had to be like her, or they weren’t good enough. Needless to say, we aren’t friends anymore. I wasn’t really into the plastic. Some people have standards for the people they date; sometimes they are really superficial, and for the most part ridiculous. Some people have standards for the people they interact with, or where they work, or where they are seen.

Not a Robot; Robots don't have tounges

My standards in my life are so absolutely ridiculous that they are just unattainable. Perhaps it’s because my life has always been high pressure, high stress and this overwhelming desire to prove everyone wrong. To prove to everyone that I can do it! I’ve had to do things on my own for so long that failure isn’t an option for me. Failure means catastrophic events will occur. The problem is, when you hold yourself to the standard that I hold myself to, the only thing to do is either run yourself into the ground because you’re an obtrusive little ball of stress, or you just fall. Hard. And flat on your face. Perfection. Absolution. No room for failure. These are the things that I strive for. Then, someone asked me last night if I realized that I was human. (Thank you, for your bluntness, and your honesty. Lt3).

See, no make-up. Instead, make photo faux-pas!

I expect myself to be perfect. Not in the “must look beautiful, go to sleep with make-up on” perfect because that’s something I’ve never really cared much about; but, in just about every other aspect to the point of ad nauseam. Samantha must succeed in every aspect of her life, or she is a failure. I must get straight A’s, I must work hard, I must be able to maintain relationships with friends and be social and, and, and. My god, I’m exhausted. I got a B this summer. I slacked off; I admit it. I had a lot of crap going on – divorce, namely, and I let myself slip. I feel guilty. See? This is what I’m talking about. Why? It’s just a damn B, but to me that represents slackassness (<–is this a blend, Dr. Palmer?)

I’m killing myself in school this semester. I thought Spring semester was hard? Puh-lease. Spring Semester is like a walk in the park to how hard this Fall is. A cake-walk. Stealing candy from a baby. Insert more descriptive ways of saying “zomg, easy” in comparison. I think, largely, it’s because for the first time in a long time, I’m not understanding things as rapidly as I have been. I mentioned this in my other post, especially about the Linguistics class that I’m taking, but I feel like I just can’t find a groove. I can’t figure out how to delegate my time as properly as I did in the Spring. Or is it simply that I’m delegating my time just fine, but I just simply don’t have enough of it? My high standard in this situation is that I expect myself to understand things immediately. I’m getting so frustrated because for the first time in college, something is hard. Boo-hoo, Samantha Grace. Suck it up. College is supposed to be hard – but, it’s damn scary. What if I don’t get it to the point of absolute failure? I doubt that will happen, but it’s a fear. Back to the books, to the studying whenever I find a passing moment. What is an allophone? A morpheme? A phoneme? I’m going to get this – damn it, and even if my standard is lowered – I just want a B in the class. That’s an attainable standard, and I think I just need to work hard to get there.

See! The shoes 😦

So, this past Friday I went climbing with my friend Alex. I had just bought myself a bran new pair of climbing shoes and they were awesome. They hugged my feet, they fit great, and I had a lot of fun climbing. I’m hoping that this turns into the new sport that I can’t live without, because frisbee has been such a disappointment that I don’t even know what to do with it anymore. It’s one of the many unattainable standards; when do you stop trying to go for something that you want so much? There comes a point when you realize the hard work wont pay off and the heartache isn’t worth it. I’ll continue to play, don’t get me wrong, but with the people I love and not for the team that I wanted to play with since I started playing ultimate almost (eek!) eight years ago. I think this would be an admission, or recognition at least, that sometimes you just don’t get what you want, even when you work really hard for it. Regardless, before I get off on a tangent about something else, I went climbing on Friday. We climbed from 6pm until about 8:30pm and then went to Willie’s after for dinner. When I got home that night I changed and went to the movies. Since then, I’ve not been able to find my climbing shoes. They have magically sprouted feet and walked away. Either that or gremlins have stolen them. I’m voting for Gremlins. I’ve scoured through everything; my car, my apartment, and nothing. The bag that I took to the gym is empty – I called the gym and they aren’t there. They are just, simply, gone — $91.00 – done. Gone. This is one of those times when I hold myself to the ridiculous standard and say, “I don’t lose things.” Which, is for the most part a true statement. I don’t, really. I hardly ever lose things. Misplace things? Sometimes, but I normally don’t lose things — insert “Sam, you do realize you’re human, right?” Comment here.  This is another time when that standard of mine comes into play. Everyone loses things, Sam! Of course people lose things – it’s not the end of the freaking world. But, at the same time, that’s $91 that is just gone and I feel irresponsible.

Like a boss! (Alex)

 

I’m going to strive to learn that it’s okay to fail. That failure is a necessity to learning. So, like the quiz I got back fromDr. Palmer’s class that was a 50, it’s okay! I learned and I know what I did wrong – and it doesn’t make or break my grade in the class. Hell! He drops the lowest quiz grade. I’m going to try and remember that I am human and humans make mistakes. That, while I still feel like a total jackass for losing my climbing shoes, it’s not the end of the world. I can just buy another pair if climbing is whats really important to me (and it is!) and just elect to not do other things in the future and save some dough that way. I am not a Robot. I am not perfect. That doesn’t mean that I’m going to stop working as hard as I do, but maybe I’ll learn to cut myself some slack and realize that for all the work that I do, and for what I do accomplish, I should be proud of myself.  The weight of the world is only on my shoulders because I put it there and I can take it away, too.

Huzzah. A self revelation post. Thank you, again. Lt3.

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