<$BlogRSDURL$> <body><script type="text/javascript"> function setAttributeOnload(object, attribute, val) { if(window.addEventListener) { window.addEventListener('load', function(){ object[attribute] = val; }, false); } else { window.attachEvent('onload', function(){ object[attribute] = val; }); } } </script> <div id="navbar-iframe-container"></div> <script type="text/javascript" src="https://apis.google.com/js/platform.js"></script> <script type="text/javascript"> gapi.load("gapi.iframes:gapi.iframes.style.bubble", function() { if (gapi.iframes && gapi.iframes.getContext) { gapi.iframes.getContext().openChild({ url: 'https://www.blogger.com/navbar.g?targetBlogID\x3d6774103\x26blogName\x3dAlpha+to+Omega\x26publishMode\x3dPUBLISH_MODE_BLOGSPOT\x26navbarType\x3dSILVER\x26layoutType\x3dCLASSIC\x26searchRoot\x3dhttps://drippingwithsarcasm.blogspot.com/search\x26blogLocale\x3den_CA\x26v\x3d2\x26homepageUrl\x3dhttp://drippingwithsarcasm.blogspot.com/\x26vt\x3d5741867621962882299', where: document.getElementById("navbar-iframe-container"), id: "navbar-iframe" }); } }); </script>

Refuge for the rational.

Wednesday, September 29, 2004

Not So Triumphant Return 

I'm not even going to look at when my last post was. It would be far too depressing. I was supposed to be free by now, I was supposed to be relaxed and enjoying myself but I haven't even had a chance to spend any time inside my own head or with myself.

Today at work I spent a lot of time trying to look very busy when I was anything but. I don't think anyone would care if I weren't busy, but I would feel slightly paranoid and guilty if I didn't at least expend some kind of effort in some area or another. So, I had to pretend to look busy. The reason for this is that the internet in the office was down again. I have probably lost half of my week so far to the fucking internet being down. So, like responsible business people, head office sent down an incompetent quack who spent the day grunting various commands at us and occupying the personal space located above our shoulders.

Dealing with customers takes up a lot of time and this is the only reason I'm fond of them. I usually have to turn my brain on auto-pilot when dealing with them though, and at times I think I'm at risk of falling into an intense daydream or just slumping over my desk and passing out. I'm not sure why, but most of my clients seem to fit a very specific profile. Today for example, I sold a cell phone to a fat lady with a really red face who was so obnoxiously loud and boisterous she did the talking for the three of us in the room. It was all I could do to keep up with her in my flacid mental state. It's interesting that in the age of Dr. Phil, a revered and respected idiot doctor, people still don't know how to listen. Every sentence I began was interrupted with a long-winded explanation that I was already aware of. You will be surprised to hear that I was entirely ok with this. It wasted an entire hour and forty-five minutes that would have otherwise been wasted with unproductive faking. It's funny how much more tiring it is to try to be busy that to just be busy. I was ok with the customer herself, it was really the situation that got me down. It's terribly depressing to imagine people wanting time to pass, wanting to get older, living for the weekend that never seems to come and always leaves too quickly. I've learned my lesson and tomorrow when the internet dies on me yet again, I will try to achieve finishing a book rather than pretending to do things.

My new house isn't much better. I'm finding myself too tired to get things done when I get home and even though the improvements thus far are incredible, it seems like every time I turn around there is something that just makes me doubt continuing with it. At two in the morning yesterday the jackass skate punks who live next door decided it was time for band practice. I spent the first twenty minutes trying to hold onto the half-slumber I had attained, breathing slowly and deeply and just trying to remain calm. Then I decided that it wasn't worth it and fumed as I called the cops. Then I tried to sleep again, but didn't achieve this until two hours later when the cops either showed up or the little hardcore fuckers decided it was time to smoke more pot. I believe this incident is responsible for my mood right now.

So, it's been awhile and I do regret that my come-back tour had to begin with whining. And, as I don't hear any bad music coming from next door, I will take my leave and get ahead of them.

Wednesday, September 01, 2004

I got a job last week. I sent in a total of two resumes and was called back by the first one. I went in for an interview and gave myself rave reviews and used a lot of key words like "positive", "productive", "adaptable", "efficient", and so on. I actually said at one point that they should hire me simply because "I'm just wonderful". I'm glad I was with the right people because that could have gone horribly wrong. At any rate, I got the job and I started last week.

I'm selling cell phones. No, I don't know if they give you cancer, but I have free unlimited use of one so I guess I'll have to let you know in a few years. It's strange that I'm selling cell phones to people when I've never owned one and know nothing about them. Sometimes people come in and I can tell they've done their homework and they clearly know more than I do on the subject. This is scary, but I take it in stride.


Today all I did was attempt to put the filing cabinet in alphabetical order. I was curious what had happened to the girl who I'm replacing and now I know. She had never been to a library in her entire life and she was fired for incompetence and general stupidity. She could have at least consulted the phone book.

I also read about rate plans and phone features for about four hours. Then I played with a camera phone for about two. Then someone handed me a check for $400 for just over three days of 'work', which was actually 'training', which was actually standing around watching other people work. All of this and I have Ace of Base in my head, but somehow it's all in a days work.

This is the only thing that will take getting used to, the bad office music. I haven't the seniority to control the radio station and thus I get to listen to either light rock or country music all day. This is ok though, as my desk, which I spend about half of my time at, is in the speakerless retail section. I also haven't had much of a problem with the music because I don't recognize most of it (yet, anyway). This means it doesn't get stuck in my head. There are exceptions though, such as Ace of Base because I grew up in an unfortunate time and place where things like that were set to repeat on over-priced eighth-grader's stereos.

Ace of Base has just been replaced with a song I recognize, but don't know the artist or name of. I'm also falling asleep and it took me far too long to write this entry.

This page is powered by Blogger. Isn't yours?

Listed on BlogsCanada blog search directory Blogarama Who Links Here Creative Commons License
This work is licensed under a Creative Commons License.