When I initially sat down to write this post I had NO IDEA what to write about. I refuse to write another post about my stress over Coronavirus. Its been more of the same this past few weeks, politics-wise.
So…..more Star Trek? Yes.
About a week ago we watched the episode where Riker meets an old version of himself (a copy created accidentally while using the transporter on an away mission). The two Rikers must then work and live together for a time on the Enterprise. As you can imagine, Riker has a bit of a hard time getting along with himself, and the two butt heads with some frequency. It got me thinking about whether I would like me if I met me, out in the universe. What if I had to work with me? What then?
I have spent an inordinate amount of time and energy over the past week giving this genuine thought and introspection. So much of who I am is highly internalized. This is largely by design—more often than not, I’d really rather you didn’t get inside my head. I prefer to keep my cards to myself. Besides, its scary in there.
So it was very strange for me to think about how it must look to someone from the outside.
If there really was a second me bumbling around, I think there would be several different difficulty levels I’d have in dealing with her. For the purposes of this post, we’ll call duplicate me “Daria” from here on out.
I suspect if I ran into Daria at a party, we’d get along just fine. We’d both be planted next to the buffet table within easy reach of all the apps, allowing for infinite refills of stuff we really shouldn’t be eating (and almost certainly would need to take Lactaid to digest). One of us would at some point sneak a sci-fi/Bill Murray/Marvel movie quote in there, the other would recognize the reference, and we’d share a moment of quiet camaraderie. The remainder of the evening would be spent by the bar, swapping our favorite cocktail recipes.
If I ran into Daria at work and had to collaborate on a project or team, this presents a new level of difficulty. I’m a very independent person. I am notably terrible about communicating and keeping people (like my supervisors) in the loop on what I’m doing. I’m also very detail-oriented, analytical, and enjoy having control (read: an aptitude for picking things apart, perfectionism, and doing things my way). Thus, if I had to work on a team with Daria, I’d undoubtedly get irritated at being left out of the loop on which parts she was working on, which parts she wanted me to contribute to, and grumpy that her lack of communication would ultimately force me to have to actually walk over to her cubicle (or worse—pick up the phone) and engage in social interactions. And that report mockup I submitted to her for review last week? I can’t even look at it in Track Changes because she made so many changes to it that it looks like its been dipped in blood.
Ultimately, these would be mild frustrations, and we would find a way to make it work. Particularly if she redeemed herself by regularly bringing in baked goodies to the office to share with others. Or circulated funny memes of shenanigans that happened at office Happy Hours.
If I had to live with Daria, I’d f%#@ing murder her, I suspect. First of all, she’s a slob. No really—she’s gross. She leaves the toilet seat up, there’s a dozen half-finished glasses of water left all over the apartment like Easter eggs, and she never cleans her hair out of the drains. Crumbs and socks litter the floor… I’m pretty sure she hasn’t showered in 3 days. She blasts music loud enough to wake the dead, and plays the same cheesy pop playlists OVER and OVER and OVER again. I never have any say in what’s for dinner. She just announces it 5 minutes before she begins cooking it, so if you don’t like it or aren’t in the mood for whatever it is—tough noogies. She’s a nightmare to go grocery shopping with. She just darts down the aisles without warning, disappears for several minutes, and then reappears like a wraith.
Egads…
She is a very good cook—I’ll give her that.
At any rate, I recommend the exercise. Its pretty illuminating. Now, excuse me while I pick up a few of these items I left laying around…
mandymelodies.com 