mi estas racia

For the past week, following two days with the woman traning me at title searching, I’ve been a neurotic mess. Training goes at a fast pace in her presence, I find it, psychologically, difficult to advocate for myself around women. Especially those with authority over me. Not only does training go at a fast pace, but she’ll point out stuff which does not seem to be relevant to my current level of understanding in the job.

It’s like knowing “Orion is a constellation”, but then the astronomer suddenly pointing out a star invisible to the unaided eye then proceeding to discuss something esoteric about its spectra and why it’s so important to the rest of the science of astronomy. Let me learn more about the individual stars, then the objects like the Orion nebula, then constellations surrounding Orion, then getting into the esoterica.

Today I spoke with the guy who’s half-training me who acknowledged that I’ve been thrown into the deep end, at my trainer and hirer-er’s request because she has so much faith in me ‘getting it’, and acknowledges that I’m doing things without understanding how or why most times. Still, I’m grasping what I can when it comes to title searching, so go me.

After that talk, I feel much better and I’m taking my metaphorical foot off the gas to be the Doogie Howser of title searching and being happy enough that eventually I’ll be a damned fine title searcher.

Even if it’s not within four weeks time.

Chris S.
Anomalist, esperantist, cyclist, typist, dodecaphile, ailurophile, and oneiromancer. Chris lives near the shore with his wife, cats, and the Jersey Devil in his backyard.

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