Personal Narrative Analysis

Organizational metaphors help researchers to shape concepts of behaviors, management, and structure in a simple and easy for the perception image. Organizational theorists broadly utilize this tool to classify different types of companies in the contemporary world and to reflect their evolution throughout the history of organizational development. The metaphors of machine and organism have been used most frequently to facilitate understanding and communication about the complex phenomenon of organization (Smircich, p. 340).

Jerry wakes up in a dissociative state still hungover from the previous night’s drug binge, nullifying the pain with a fluffy, symmetrical line of Peruvian cocaine and a tightly packed bowl of luminescent green, trichome plastered cannabis nug sourced from California out of his Illadelph bong; naturally, Jerry was quite the aficionado in recreational drug use and progressive dependency. As dopamine floods his prefrontal cortex he’s invigorated with a renewed sense of grandiosity; he looks in the mirror, his eyes are sunken in, the pallor of his complexion is ghostly, an apparition of a once revered public figure. He averts his eyes to his many awards and commendations for a brief moment, before the cannabis takes effect. He brushes

event. The fact of the matter was, the men that knew about the site had been killed earlier on by the Mexicans. No one knew about it until, than one US Army Colonel Clayton arrived and asked them why they didn’t use any of the gear in the bunker. Of course, the Marines response to that question was, ‘What bunker?’

“I can’t feel my feet, guys” is what I said to my friends when I first discovered something was wrong. We laughed and made jokes as they would kick my feet and say “can you feel this? can you feel this?” Day after day I would tell myself not to worry and that this feeling in my feet would diminish over time. It only took 2 days for the numbness in my feet to disperse to the entire right side of my body. As soon as this feeling had reached my ears I decided it was time to speak up. I told my father what I was feeling and both unconcerned, we had come to the conclusion that it was simply growing pains and that we would keep an eye on it. I felt a sigh of relief as I continued on doing my everyday routine. I thought the feeling in my body would go away but every day the feeling became more severe. I woke up one morning in the middle of the night in excruciating pain and a headache that I had never experienced before. I ran to my parents bedroom in tears. It was only then that we knew something wasn’t right.

Jumping about two years ahead now, I have graduated high school; I think I am going to get a job and stay home at home to take a year off of school. A week before college classes were scheduled to start, I signed a letter of intent, packed the car and drove to Williston, North Dakota. While in North Dakota, I was to play softball for the Williston State College Tetons; or so I thought.Within the first two months, I had proved myself one of the best players on the team. However with injuries and asthma holding me back, I was called to speak with the coach one day. The conversation consisted of a general consensus between herself and the assistant coach, that I was not a good teammate on or off the field and I was to return my uniform and my gear before dinner. This moment marks my journey to the dark side; on this day I lost any faith I had. Skipping ahead a couple of months, I came home for Christmas and managed to find myself again; through family, friends, and my spiritual leader. As much as it hurt to bite my own tongue, I typed the most passionate and appropriate letter I could to the coach, explaining why I should be brought back to the team. Leaving

I walked into the Mr.Freeze line at Six Flags I saw the people in front of us get on. They sat down and buckled them in, then the countdown started 5,4,3,2,1 “Bye”. The Machine was off I counted 1,2,3,4,5,6,7,8,9,10. Then they were back all paralyzed with fear. Our Turn! Me and my mom hopped on the ride and they buckled us in. All I could think was “No Way Out!!!”. Then I started to shake and to shiver while my sister in front of me with my dad had a jolly smile on her face! Then the countdown started 5,4,3,2,1 “Bye”. We took off zooming through twists and turns slamming into the tracks as we went.I’m going to die!! I thought. I tried to scream but my voice was to scratchy from the other rides I screamed and screamed but nothing.

"Oh God I'm so sorry for all I've done. When the time grandma forced me to church and everyone was praying but I was doing mini hip thrusts in the air while listening to Block B's Her. When I stuck gum under the beloved Virgin Mary's foot and lied that it wasn't me when someone noticed it. When I found $20 on the floor on our house and spent it on food but realized it was money for my mom to buy some gas. Then to make it worse she got stuck at a gas station for an hour because she had no money and I never told her that I used it for food. I'll be kind and sweet to everyone. I won't disrespect you anymore. So please don't let me be chosen. Don't let him be stupid,"

The gears of my five-year-old mind started churning. Letters and numbers covered the paper. I tested out of classes before it was cool. Back then, I didn’t necessarily consider the eventual consequences that would result from this single test.

“Great! Tomorrow I will teach you car washing. By the way, you can call me Eric for short.”

As a baby, I was always a little more advanced; I walked early, and knew a few more words than your typical one-year-old. Learning my alphabet and numbers came from shows like Barney and Sesame Street. Once I started formulating phrases and sentences, my mom always made it a point to correct my words. My mom always took the opportunity to challenge me as a child, playing math and vocabulary games with me, using flashcards where my prize for getting them right was candy; instilled in me how important an education was because there is nothing like knowing something someone else doesn’t. My earliest memories about reading and writing were very pleasant for me. In a way, you could even say that some of these experiences were even gratifying to

I have a fully-grown massive Rottweiler named Mayson. When I first received my dog I had no idea that I was going to receive odd looks from people all over my neighborhood. I did not know that this tailless, lovable creature would soon grow to be my shadow of disapproval. To this day, they do not like looking at a five foot two female walking a 103 pound black bear-like dog half her size. Throughout the years, I have learned to cope with my so-called bloodthirsty dog by taking her out for walks when there are no sounds of children, strollers, or skateboards. I walk her late because I do not like to receive dirty looks from my neighbors for they do not trust my beast. My neighborhood once led me to believe the rumors about my black sheep because

“Beep”, “Beep”, “BEEP”, cars honking loud because drivers are not cautious, and also driving recklessly. Years go by and trafic becomes fatal. Living by a busy street can create a feeling of fear to cross the street. As I grew up in North Denver I started to see change, change in a good ways and in bad ways. When I was younger, I used to live right across from my Elementary and Middle school, and all 9 years I never missed school, but that was because I had an advantage of living really close to school. During my teen years I lived across Federal. Federal seemed to get busy every other 2 years. While going to Highschool I would always walk to school, but when I had to cross the busy street I started to think twice about crossing the street

In this picture i have picked is of my mom and sister and I. Im going to start with me, ever since I was little I never knew my dad im hoping to soon met my dad when I turn 18. I have always lived with my mom. Living as in jumping around from house to house. We went to marysville kansas for my junior year just for my junior year and the summer, some how newton is the place we end back up in. Now i'm a senior here in newton. We have lived in several different place I have lived out of state 2 twice, Texas and Missouri. My mom and sister are the closest people to me. If you get me around my sister, you never think she is my sister. My mom is the hardest mom ever. She has been through so much but still attempts to keep food in my stomach and

As professor Sanchez announced the upcoming of our informative speeches I had no clue what I was going to do mine on. Of course I decided to procrastinate on finding a topic and put it to the last minute. The idea of “charreria” Mexico’s national sport came to mind due to the fact that my professor always mentioned a dancing horse when he would call my name for attendance. From there on I decided when the days of doing our speech comes I will give myself a week to practice in order for me to not mess up and break the average grading scale dilemma. Not only that but since we were going to have to record ourselves I wanted it to be good so I will not cringe or have any negative thoughts while watching my own speech.

Since I have embarked on this new travel writer lifestyle, I have been blessed to go to places I never even thought about visiting before. San Diego was one of those places. I've always heard how beautiful it was but it never crossed my radar to put on my list of places to visit. You know when we create bucket lists, we go all out with the Maldives, Bora Boras, and Abu Dhabis of the world. I'm so glad that my friend Brandy suggested San Diego for us to visit while we were in southern California.