Scottish shake-up

I got a new job-- in addition to or in place of my coveted SleepTech position, we'll see. It pays better and the work is more enjoyable. I'll be employed as a behavioral assistant (I believe...). How can one become a behavioral assistant when he himself needs assistance? We're about to find out. More on this as it develops.

At SleepTech I received a call from Mr. Chomsky (a.k.a. Terry). After admitting his igorvolsky.com blog addiction, Terry diagnosed me with MPD (multiple personality disorder). The diagnosis was grounded in personal experience, not medical knowledge. (Although Terry has worked in the medicinal field for the past 3-4 years, his experience extends only to sleep apnea data entry.)

The blog, according to Terry, is too serious and self reflective. I'm a lot more fun in person. (Let’s hope so.) He disagreed with Brian's (and everyone else's assessment-- this might be because he's foreign) tacit and implicit critique of my personality. I'm "goofy" he said, not serious and academic.

This got me thinking. Why is it that Terry found me more outgoing than my other friends? Our interaction rarely transcended the prison confines of the SleepTech administrative offices, yet he placed J-Z (fun and outgoing) ahead of A-J (serious and studious). I found his analysis both refreshing and incredulous.

Consider the following lyrics:

"Well, we all have a face that we hide away forever. And we take them out and
show ourselves when everyone has gone. Some are satin, some are steel, Some are
silk and some are leather. They're the faces of a stranger, But we'd love to try
them on."

The above was sung to me on my way to David's karate studio. Could I be putting on a different face for Terry (and others)? Am I more serious around others? I would characterize myself in Terry's terms-- but most don't and won't. Why is that? (And why the heck am I so concerned about how other people see me?-- I agree with Terry, so the heck with everyone else.) Enough of this self-analysis crap. Even I'm getting sick of it. (Dr. Phil has left the building.)

Moving on...

After I told my brother of my new employment he suggested that I become a psychiatrist-- "when you helped me with my problems, it's what I expected to hear from a therapist." David's concerns rarely surpassed school bullying and name-calling, but I was flattered nonetheless (wink, wink, wink--- this really did happen, I'm not just making it up for the benefit of my employer...).

I'm also thinking about getting a Sidekick T-Mobil Messaging device. This way I can browse the internet, instant message and check email at any time, in any place. (That gets service.) It could be a great show-prep tool (I can receive last minute messages from guests and read the Progress Report whenever it comes out...)

My new job will require me to listen and reflect, I think I can handle that-- troubled children...I'll just take them to Dunkin' Donuts and buy them one of those Chocolate Blast Cappuccinos (and no, they're not lime green). I've had 4 in the past 2 days, and I still can't get enough... I strongly suggest that you drive down to your local Dunkin Donuts/Baskin Robbins franchise and order yourself a large serving.

I just might see you there…