Strongly Worded

Oh, the Shame!

So first and foremost, let me say that I am profoundly unmotivated today--I got to work late, surfed the net for over an hour, and then headed over to Dunkin Donuts for my daily fix (small coffee with milk, one sugar). When I used to teach financial literacy to homeless people, we'd discuss "wants" vs. "needs", and how our small habits can add up to significant financial expenditures. Because I never wanted to shame anyone into admitting how much they paid annually for cigarettes (they calculated this on their own, and were invariably horrified), I always used my own example: $1.35 for coffee, five days a week, for 50 weeks of the year, adds up to $337.50 in a year, which, if you're homeless (or even if you're not) is not chump change. (Also, in summer I get iced coffee, which costs more.)

But as usual, I digress. My shame results not from my spending habits, but from my utter stupidity when it comes to assembling anything. Yesterday, Staples delivered some office supplies I had ordered, including a transparent plastic "filing system" that came in pieces in a cardboard box. The assembly instructions looked simple enough. I put the pieces on the table, thinking I would enjoy having my new filing system in place, and that the process of putting the files into the "system" would provide much-needed joy and, more importantly, a legitimate departure from my work.

So here's the shame: I could not do it. I struggled for about half an hour, putting the little posts into the little holes and trying to attach the slanted file-holders. The pieces scattered over the table. The little assembly I accomplished did not resemble the drawing on the instruction sheet. Bob was out of the office, so he couldn't do it (he's great at things like that). And I couldn't ask my (male) intern to help, because I was absolutely ashamed that I couldn't assemble it myself, and didn't want to perpetuate gender stereotypes. I also didn't want my intern to see me in my struggle, for the same reason, so I kind of hunkered over the table trying to work discreetly. I finally gave up and hid the pieces in the supply closet.

I really do try to do stuff like this. I strive to be an independent modern woman, but my utter failure leads me to suspect that there may be some genetic component involved (be it gender-related or not) .

Bottom line: no filing system for now. I am going to have to find something else to do.

Posted by Dori at 10:26 AM