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iamturninginsideout

Stirred By The Ladle Of The Moon

Posted on 2008.02.01 at 09:19
The very first thing you notice is the floor.  It's soft, which isn't right, because it's bare concrete.  Then you look down and realize why: there's a layer of dust so thick on it - and everything else - that it's turned to topsoil. 
Smell is the next immediate impression, and always hand in hand with the urge to sneeze.  It's like taking a snort of snuff, an immediate and overwhelming nose of ancient filth rotting its way back to wholesomeness.

It's also cold.

Other than that, it's standing at a table slapping labels on various bottles of water, listening to the radio, and occasionally gagging on forklift fumes.  Or forklift driver fumes.

This is my new, under the table, unofficial source of secondary income.  The only thing worse than the working conditions is the pay.


No.
Actually the worst part is getting up at five in the morning. 


Those of you who love Green Llama - this is why I've been on the slack, internets-wise.  Getting up at stupid o'clock in the morning, doing painfully repetitive and repetitively painful menial work, then coming home with brains like stomped cheese because they refuse to get around this new schedule. 
I've been running an average of three or so hours of sleep, nightly.  A few days ago I fell asleep in the chair here, head lolled back over the back and arms sticking up and back past that.  Not comfortable, even if you're flexible as me.  But if I hold still too long unconsciousness pounces on my brain like a junkie after dope.

I need a shower, now.

iamgoingtoblowyourbrainsout

"I'll be up again so soon it hurts already..."

Posted on 2008.01.22 at 00:16
Blue Monday.

Naturally, the day I go back to something resembling a paying job.  It's not really work, per se.  Under the table, and all that.  Totally fraudulent.

Labeling water bottles in a warehouse, for a buck a case.  It'll have to do for the moment, and at least I'm not taxed.  No benefits, but I never really had any anyhow.

And it's a job you can do in your sleep while having a stroke.  The grind is inevitable, but my mind will wander off and amuse itself, I've no doubts.

But this getting up at five in the morning shit?  Guh.  Human eyes were surely not meant to see the world in such an unshaped and primal hour.  I could swear I saw a tree putting its bark on like trousers...too early.

( Yes.  I'm up too late. )

It's also been about 20 to 30 degrees colder outside on average than it is inside my freezer.  Non-stop brutal for days. 


Can I please win that lifetime in Hawaii now?


iamgoingtoblowyourbrainsout

"I have recieved email."

Posted on 2008.01.11 at 13:30
Apparently, as soon as the guy who interviewed me gets back to the guy who sent me to the interview, the guy who sent me to the interview will let me know.

But what happened to the girl who was a liason for the temp agency, who was supposed to be there that morning?  The same girl that the guy who interviewed me said he was going to talk to next?  Didn't the guy at that company talk to her?  Or, why didn't the guy at my agency talk to her?
It took about two weeks from the start for them to just get to the interview, despite the fact that there was "really a need to fill some positions".  At first, I attributed this to the holidays. 

Now?

Now I have a pretty fair idea of exactly what position they'd like me to assume.

Thank you, no.

So.

Yeah, that interview. 

Seemed like an okay place, but right from the beginning I felt a little unsure.  The guard at the entrance was a sullen, surly blob behind a desk, who directed me to the adjoining cafeteria for free coffee.  No sooner do I sit down with a full cup than a man I just walked past ( who was watching a television with his pals ) steps out briefly, then returns and comes up to me and introduces himself as my interviewer.

So right off the bat, I'm way, way impressed.  But at least this is getting over with sooner rather than later.  Anyway.

I get a tour of the place, which is a stroll past various high-volume copiers and towering racks of paper,  with a brief stop at a table covered with various samples of work.  They are, I'm told, giving a tour later for some customers.  At any rate, I'm not seeing anything I haven't already seen years of elsewhere.

Then it's through a door or two, up some stairs, and into a little side conference room to sit down and do the deed.

To begin, he asks me if I have a resume.  I know he has one, because it was sent to him, but never mind - yes - I did that part of this job for you.  I, at least, have come prepared.

For the most part, it's pretty standard.  He asks the usual questions: what I did before, what machines I'm familiar with, processes of doing work, and how I dealt with various problems/situations when I did it.
But it's like he's not quite hearing it just exactly how he wants it to be said.  He seems to be finding ways to ask the same things, just from different angles.  Like maybe he thinks he'll catch me up at something.  It's a fuzzy feeling though, and I attribute it to my own nervousness, and to be honest, it's not really all that unusual an interviewing technique.
He's also being infuriatingly vague.  If he wants a precise answer, he should ask a precise question.

But then he does it.  He asks me the question:  "Have you ever had a problem before with people finding you too relaxed, or seeming too laid back?"

For fuck's sake, you've got to be kidding my ass.  I don't know know that there is a right answer to a question like that.  I should have asked him if he's stopped kicking his dog.  They're more or less the same question, aren't they?

And then it was more or less like the first half of the interview, only on rewind.  Back through the questions, tour, door. 

Like I said before, I got a call later from the temp agency that they had to do a little more research, and would call me back later that day or the next.
It's now the day after both of those, and I'm still waiting.  Called and emailed, still waiting.


I don't know, but it's not looking good there, is it? 


I will turn to crime now, I think...










iamturninginsideout

Hard Call

Posted on 2008.01.09 at 10:39
I got nothing - it could go either way from here.  The interview actually resembled an interview, at least. 

He asked one question in the middle of it that I'm not sure about, when he wondered if I'd ever had a problem with seeming too relaxed and laid back.
Huh?
I just held my own and said that I'd gotten that before all my life, the long legged walk that looks slow, the low voice, it gives that impression.  And that when the shit hits the fan it's nice to have a calm head around soothing things and not getting flustered. 
Seriously, though.  Calm is a bad thing, now?

If I got any real bad impressions from him, it was that I didn't seem to be technical enough for him.  That would be my fault; I've never been a jargon monkey.
In my favor, they are harboring at least one Kinko's refugee from what he told me, so that's probably a positive.  Or not negative anyway.

( Just got a call back from the temp company that sent me - checking in about the interview.  Apparently they'll be doing more 'research' and contacting me back later today or tomorrow.  Fun. )

So it's just waiting to see what happens now.

And hoping.


God damn, but I'd rather be drawing comics for a living.


iamtsarbomba

Finger Crossed Stance

Posted on 2008.01.09 at 08:41
A little ahead of schedule for the morning. 

Finally ( FINALLY ) got an interview, so I'm all slicked up and greased back, corners polished - everything.  Surprising lack of nervousness so far.  Wait until I'm in their lobby, then my stomach will be doing its little buzz-crawl.

From the sound of it, I'll just be a machine monkey, sitting in a cavern nursing a xerox machine.  It all depends on the complexity of the machine and things they're expecting, but I should do alright. 
So like I said - finger crossed stance this morning.  Hopefully the old copy-jockey gig hasn't become rocket science behind my back over the last year.

How likely is that, really?


It's days like this that I really rue the fact that I'll probably never be able to get myself into a position to do something better with my life.  I'd like to go to school - say MCAD.  I doubt I could get the loans, let alone pay them off afterwards. 

Anyway.  Time to go forth and kick small ass.


I'll start off by saying this, though - I would have expected a giant rock way more than what I got.

My unemployment actually came through.  Hardly a source of pride, but on the other hand, it's also not starving to death over the holidays.  It's like having the hood snugged down over your head, then finding out that the hangman goofed up the rope and measured out a half foot too much.  Sure, you fall on your ass in the dirt, but you're alive...


*

Minnesota weather, I swear.

Last night at three in the morning it was raining.  Raining, like a gentle spring shower.  This morning it's colder and an inch and a half of snow deeper outside. 
If it keeps going like this, it'll pretty much turn into the winter that I was predicting it would be. 
And if that's true, then I'm really not looking forward to February.

*

I have otherwise, not been up to much, not online at least.  So, work on that for the long weekend, now that a few things aren't hanging over me.  Along with the laundry we can afford to do now.

Beat that kind of fun, suckers!


iamtsarbomba

"I'm Beginning To Think..."

Posted on 2007.12.18 at 10:52
"...that people just aren't looking for people to hire right now, sweetie.  Yeesh.  Yet another reason to hate the holidays.."  Absent-minded fingers casually tangle his pitiful mane as he looks over at me grooming myself far more adeptly.

"You never try that stealing thing you talk about.  You could probably do that."  I attempt to at least seem encouraging, if not sound it.

He pouts.  "No.  I probably couldn't."

"Why not?" 

"Because you're the deadliest thing in the house I have to point at them.  Can you imagine trying to mug someone with a cat?"

"Try it with those sheet people.  They seem properly fearful."

He pauses, staring right through me.  I can smell the wheels turning behind them.  "Huh.  I never thought of that..."

"I'll bet."

"That's seriously messed up, by the way."

* * *

So yeah.
Not much love happening so far, try as I might.  I'm hoping that after the holidays things will be better, I guess.  It's not likely to happen before then, everyone is taking care of other, more personal, capitalist ventures.  Hurray for the holidays.

So it'll be time to work up a little lunch for Leslie soon.  That at least I can accomplish.  Hurray for me.

If 2008 is going to be anything like 2007, I'm betting that 2009 can kiss my ass right now.

But that's a big if, even for me.


All in all though, it's going to be another year started off lean and mean.  Except for the cats.  They're fat as dumpster squirrels.

( That's really fat. )


iamboned

It Resembles Sunlight

Posted on 2007.12.13 at 11:28
Just got a nice lead on what might turn into work.  Polishing a resume and getting ready to make me look my bestest. 

Sounds like standing and nursing a large copier, mostly.  Right up my alley.
Fingers crossed.


Flea is feeling lazy today, and preoccupied with figuring out how to make all this snow go away.  We both have high hopes.

iamgoingtoblowyourbrainsout

Strange Now, Too?

Posted on 2007.12.12 at 11:37
Made up some of that sleep I missed out on - I find now I rather wish i hadn't.

Now is not the best time for me to start having dreams again, especially those dreams.  Weird and kindless reels of panic and disorder and betrayal, of moving and betrayal.  They feel like trying to walk backwards through a riot while trying to do a jigsaw puzzle, impossible and scary and frustrating.
Waking up throughout the night didn't help either, I'd just drop right back into the action where I left off.
I almost felt like a young man again.

Holding out hope that I just don't dream tonight.  It's too tiring.


The landlord was by last night, cleaning out the next-door apartment.  I approached him about the possibility of us moving over into it, and he seemed receptive, saying he'd let us walk through it when it was cleaned out.
The we had a good laugh about just how much she left behind to be cleaned out.  Shelves, chairs, tables, a bed, books, about four hundred pounds of clothing, a small kiosk of yarn and buttons and other craft materials, and a six foot five inch fake tree. 

Mind you, that wasn't all of it.  Not even close.  I didn't mention the abandoned computer and monitor or the other television at all.

One thing surprised me, though.  Talking to the landy, while he and his helper guy tried to sort out the mayhem, and he was troubled about how to get rid of everything, as we don't have a dumpster available to our building, and the curb where we put the garbage is  pretty much an unusable glacier.
I suggested calling the Salvation Army.  They'll send a truck and happily abscond with the sort second-hand treasure she left behind.

Once in a while, I wonder.  Maybe it's just me, but I'd have thought that something like the Salvation Army would be on speed dial after you ran enough properties for long enough.  Or maybe I'm just not a linear thinker.


Anyway, the rest of the day looms....


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