No, I haven’t yet read Learning to Die in the Anthropocene by Roy Scranton (2015). I don’t know how much it applies here, but…it may apply.
Just to let you know, I’m really pushing myself to get back on here and write. I have been keeping an offline journal, for myself…it’s just a bit harder to scan than this blog, though. As regards re-learning a cursive hand, I’ve decided to stop trying to force myself, as it isn’t as legible as my printing. It pretty much looks worse, too…which kind of evades the point.
Things are still kind of tense with me. Since my last class ended, I’ve had nothing that I’ve really been forced to do. I have two more classes which are about to start up, which at least will give me weekly projects to complete…on top of going back over my Portfolio, which it’s obvious (to me) I don’t want to do, but may be key in gaining future employment. Especially if I’m going for a technical position.
Right now I’m at a juncture between Web Development and Metadata or Cataloging Librarianship…the latter two being focused on the organization of information, the former meaning ability to communicate with a computer so it does what I want it to do (which is display information in a readable [and just maybe, hopefully, pleasant] manner*).
*”That’s for the UX people to figure out!” you say.
I should get back to the book, Careers in Writing, by Blythe Camenson. Because…right now, I’m actually thinking about writing for money. I think I’m in too deep with the content angle of Librarianship (after all, I have an Art and an English degree) to switch over totally to being a Web Developer.
Web Development as a career has the possibility of taking over the rest of my life. While it would be good money (if I were competent, which is not guaranteed, with an Art and an English degree), there are things I want to do besides help other people publish online. I might not have enough time for myself if I go for Web Development; it requires constantly staying on top of new technology. I’m pretty sure I’d get fried.
Right now, I’m angled toward Cataloging…and I’ll see where I stand, in a bit. I’m set up to take a class on Statistics, which will help as a foundation for text- or data-mining. Text- and data-mining help in determining the “aboutness” of a digital, text-based document. I’m also in a Subject Classification course, which will help me efficiently determine the subjects of texts in a more cognitive way.
That’s…barring any calamity which may happen between now and August. I took my in-person Spanish test about a week and a half ago (and didn’t pass: not even close; they must have been desperate; it’s like, “just tell me if I need to be at the level where I use this every day, so I can tell whether or not to even entertain this”), and so…I have until Thursday to have to still be on alert to anyone (including myself) becoming sick. (It’s now Monday morning, here.) M had mentioned an irritated throat on Sunday night, which…is not great, but there’s nothing I can really do about it; and the best she can do is rest.
What is scary is that COVID-19 can apparently infect and kill, very quickly (there was one victim in the news who was infected and died within 3 days — which I consider to be on the level of Ebola). At the time I was asked to take the Spanish test, I was unaware that there was a concurrent spike in new viral transmissions in our county. That fact wasn’t available until the hospitals started to fill up.
I am very concerned about hospitals having to make decisions about who gets treatment and who doesn’t, based upon pre-existing conditions…which could easily stray into eugenics, if it is not already eugenics. Especially, now. I doubt that they’re separating out the cases who got the disease by being personally and voluntarily irresponsible from people who were staying at home and doing their best.
The thing to do, in this case, is likely to prepare myself to be independent as quickly as possible. That means…I should be driven to help cook, at the least. At the moment, I still don’t have the facility to drive, which matters in my area. Those are the two major life functions that I haven’t had to engage. Well, and there’s a third: paying bills. And doing taxes.
If everything turns out fine, that’s great: but if it doesn’t, I might be a little better prepared than otherwise. Maybe it would help me relax a bit (as versus panic)?
The problem I’m facing is a lack of information…and that information (whether or not we are all still safe) will only be revealed with time. And past that point in time, it’s uncertain again. (In actuality, the situation may be constantly uncertain.) My major blessing in this case, should it come, would only be that it would not be my direct fault that my mother became ill — this time.
But yeah…I wasn’t really briefed on the situation before we went out, either; and I have a feeling my parents were both shielding me from the information because they know that I have issues with germ phobia in the first place. I don’t really want to tell them that I didn’t even want to take the test. But we know the level at which I have to function now, in a bilingual environment…and I’m not at it.
I’m honestly not even sure now that I’d be at the level of functioning I’d need to be, as a Spanish-language Cataloger. Which is good to know. (Seriously, I look at some of the subject headings we use in English, and I don’t know what they all mean.) If I want an Academic Library job, though, proficiency in Spanish is likely the easiest route to solidify that “second language” requirement.
And no, I don’t know if it’s good or bad that when I read in Spanish, I immediately start to translate into English. It’s a very different dynamic than with Japanese language.
If we can make it through this…if I can look back on this from the future and see a learning opportunity and not a harbinger, my parents have told me that I don’t have to worry about getting another job immediately. It’s safer to hang back until we either have a treatment or a vaccine.
The thing is, right now, I don’t know how long any of us will be able to survive (especially given the fact that this virus likes to mutate). But I don’t predict the future well, which has always been a blessing — given that I tend to neuroses. I stopped writing fiction because I knew I tended to get carried off with my own stories, have I told you all that?
It might actually be time for me to write down my own, “wisdom,” so much as it may be. Just codify it. Whatever form it takes, just get it out. Then decide what to do with it, later. Decide if it’s true, later. Or leave it to others…like my sister, who told me that I have my own story and it deserves to be told…