Monday morning has a way of coming 'round regularly, whether I'm ready for it or not. This week, thanks to the Joy of Fallback! I'm more than ordinarily rested. Heck, my body has been trying to sleep until 8:00 for a couple of weeks. Today it was allowed by (by "body time") and it's happy.
Many fun things happened this weekend...few of which I still remember at this point.
A Halloween potluck of Mexican food followed by gooey chocolate brownies has thrown my few active brain cells into a stupor.
Also, it may be 60 outside, but it's 80 in my office, and I'm all sticky and gross.
It begins to occur to me that I'm going to play hell (pardon my language) preventing Bernie from hiring me.
I agreed to attend a meeting with him and his staff (the Tweenybopper and Tiffany) on Thursday to decide if I want to work about 10 hours a week for him for the next couple of weeks (after I finish up with Buehler) and with a full-time, potentially permanent position available, again, after the first of the year.
It figures. Of the two people who want to love me enough to pay me, it's the one I don't love in return who comes through with a job.
I suspect that at 10 hours a week, I'll be making too much to be allowed to collect unemployment.
And based on the 'benefit estimator', at 10 hours a week I'll be making less than half what I'd get from unemployment.
If the position only last two weeks, I can still apply for unemployment, but it will lower my benefits substantially.
Which makes for a painful decision. Out of work but receiving a lot more money, versus working at least part-time and living on that and my savings while I search for full-time work.
My financial stability demands one choice. My ego and self-esteem requires the opposite. (The rest of me is still whining about working for Bernie, which is childish, immature, and ungrateful of me.)
A fireman in the U.K. almost got fired for walking around nekkid.
His defense? He wasn't nekkid, he had his Calvin Klein on...a thong.
Illustrated. *veg*
Posted by AnneZook at 01:57 PM | Comments (2)It's Friday! That's enough fun for most of us. My brain's just all over the place today.
Buehler IM'd me this morning and said he wants me to work next week "for the handoff." Which is silly because if I had enough work to "hand off" I'd have enough to justify them to keep paying me but I'm grateful because one of the things it allows him to do is to continue my insurance coverage for another month. Not to mention getting another four days of pay.
I was sort of looking forward to sleeping in, at least for a couple of days next week. I haven't been sleeping well and I'm back to standing on the balcony praying for snow. I called my doctor yesterday and she's increasing my hormonal supplement dosage.
My new, favorite internet site? Snow Monkey Live-Cam!
My Special Day is fast approaching. Pleading poverty (and no brain) I'd like to request that those of you who, from time to time, are engaged in gift exchanges with me select this year as a year to skip. Okay?
Contrary to my usual Special Day Strategy, I haven't requested any gifts at all this year, even from family. This "not shopping" thing is wearing on me. I've demanded that the R.C. provide me with a gift certificate (I gave her a choice of two or three stores) so that I can shop.
I'm in an astonishingly good mood today, no doubt because of yesterday's New Diet Regime. Yesterday I had: 1/4 lb cheeseburger, 1 medium order French fries, 1 Butterfinger candy bar, 1 small package Fritos, 1 strusel cupcake (large), 1 cup corn chips. In other words, enough sodium and fat to last a sensible person a month. Say what you will about the benefits of a healthy diet and lean body mass, nothing makes me giggle like naughty food.
Well, maybe torch does. Because she's the dreadful woman who actually sent me the first episode of Yami no Matsuei. And then when I drooled, she sent me the second one. So, she's today's combined Evil Pimp and Fandom Goddess. (EPaFG? That's not an attractive acronym. FGaEP?)
It was scary. I had to learn to download a whole new kind of file and then download software to use it and then figure out which thing in the software folder to click to make the file viewable. But I succeeded!
Which is more than I've done with the half-dozen "bittorrent" files I downloaded a few weeks ago. I found and downloaded some software for those as well, but every time I double click the files, they seem to try to upload to the 'net (at a pace that will take them 6 hours to finish) and nothing either opens or downloads. I don't quite understand what's going on, but whatever it is isn't what I want to have going on and I think I'll have to just resign myself to deleting the bittorrent files and not viewing whatever it was I was trying to see.
I also tried downloading a file through some peculiar IRC (ICQ? I've already forgotten) thing a couple of weeks ago. That was even scarier. And less successful.
You let your attention wander for a year or so and technology just leaves you in the dust, doesn't it?
I like books. You buy a book. You can read it. It's simple. Elegant. Satisfying.
I finally got around to checking the nutrition information for Starbucks' Chantico. It’s not as bad as I feared, even at 390 calories, 190 of them from fat. 51 grams of carbohydrates is choke-inducing. But! 11 grams of protein means it's not a total loss, nutrition-wise.
Okay, it's not far from a total loss, but when you factor in the flavor....
Bottom line? I don't need to shoot myself for indulging two or three times a year.
Unlike today's lunch, when I tripped over a cheeseburger and an order of French fries which crammed themselves down my throat. I think it had better be at least a year before I do that again. (I don't know what came over me, either. I honestly don't eat fast-food hamburgers more than about once a year.)
I think DiamondGirl is a wonderful person, but if she doesn’t stop using her phone on "speaker" I may have to slay her.
Oh, dear. Neither the Tweenybopper and Sassy knew that my last day was next Monday. I understand the Tweenybopper, after all she technically works for a different company, but how could Buehler not have told Sassy? I accidentally spilled the beans in an e-mail yesterday and she tackled Buehler about it.
She and I had a long chat this morning. She was sweet and said that Buehler told her that everyone is sorry to see me leave but no one regrets seeing the back of Bossyboots. Heh.
Sassy mentioned that Buehler is hoping to pull a rabbit out of the employment hat with his client meetings this week but even if he does find a new project, I know very well that it won't start until the client is able to budget money for it, which means after the first of the year.
Coco, as we all remember, would like to hire me as well, but until after the first of the year.
The Tweenybopper also mentioned that she's been agitating Bernie to hire me (he and I chatted about it but it wouldn't be until after the first of the year) but (as I mentioned in the comments in a previous post), I don't actually want to work for Bernie.
I'm flattered that he'd like to hire me and I'd like to work with the Tweenybopper and DiamondGirl, but Bernie himself is too much like one of my previous employers, Tuffy the Tank.
Are we all seeing a common thread here? Anne will be employed again! But not until after the first of the year.
Granted, I have enough money in my checking account to last 2-3 months, but the idea of the R.C. hobbling to work on her little crutch, desperately trying to keep money flowing into the house, while I loll around, write politiblog entries, dabble with a few stories, and nibble on bonbons is just heart-breaking, don't you think?*
Plus which, between the Big Breakdown and the Long Unemployment, I've had two months' long "breaks" in my worklife in the last five years. The R.C., as she's mentioned more than once, hasn't had more than one week off at a time in a decade or two. Granted, I didn't enjoy being off work, what with having a breakdown the first time, followed by the stress of job-hunting, and the stress of job-hunting the second time, a thing that takes 8 hours a day easily if you really work at it, combined with the stress of worrying about money both times, but technically I was "off work" for months at a time. Twice.
Bottom line? I don't want a "break" from work. Not really. I was raised to be self-sufficient. I was raised to work for a living and to take care of myself. My ego demands the reinforcement of knowing someone is willing to pay me to do things.
(Granted, if I was off for an extended stretch of time, I might actually get the apartment decently cleaned, for the first time in months. But saying I could take the time to complete a chore I could easily do in the course of one Sunday seems a bit silly.)
____________________
* Hey! Maybe if I wrote her a lot of smut, she wouldn't be quite so bitter about it? I have at least two DS stories and a TS that I could finish.
And, for those interested in my writing, or dumb enough to still be reading this entry, going back to find Snippety Bits to post for last week's game did enable me to figure out what wrong with not just one, but two of the humongously long OAT stories I wrote and discarded. Who knows what might happen some day?
So, you takes your egg and you puts it in a transparent or translucent microwaveable container (1 cup size) and you stirs it up ("scrambling" is the technical term) and you nukes it for about 40-45 seconds. It puffs to incredible proportions but never flops over and makes a mess. And, if you eat it immediately, it doesn’t taste plastic so like much microwaved food.
And thus begins my last full week of employment.
Some days I'm hard up for entertainment.
Eggs are on the list of foods I will continue to eat after I'm unemployed. They're cheap. Also, yogurt. It's cheap and healthy.
Other than that, I've been watching the prices in the stores recently and it is true that to eat a healthy diet takes money. Healthy, lean chicken breasts seem to cost about 50% more per pound than fatty thighs. I already have fatty thighs (ba-da-bing!), which is why I need to eat the leaner meat, but it's too expensive.
Ditto the low-fat packages of hamburger, not that you're supposed to eat hamburger anyhow, you're supposed to buy "cuts" of meat because, having been "handled" and "processed" less, they're less likely to be unhealthy but "cuts" mostly means "steaks" and unemployed people can't go around eating steak.
I haven't spent a lot of time looking at food prices, so that's pretty much all I have to say on that subject.
The R.C. gimped into work today on her little crutches. Turns out that "no story" around how she hurt herself was that she fell down the same flight of stairs that she's seen me fall down before, and that she's always warning me about.
She's back at work today and in some pain because she can't keep her foot elevated. Poor thing.
The Mad Doctor is riding out Florida's hurricane right now. Haven't heard from him and he's not on IM, which is unusual.
I want more coffee. I've already had today's allotment of one trip to Starbucks. It's very sad to get old and realize that too much caffeine keeps you awake.
Although I wouldn't care if I weren't facing unemployment.
No, I'm not picking today as, "feel sorry for me" day. I'm just making sure I remember I'm about to be unemployed. One of my favorite ways to pass the time on a slow day is shopping on Amazon.com and it's the #1 thing I removed from my "allowed to do" list when the reality of unemployment sank in. I haven't spent a non-essential dollar in three weeks (aside from signing up for the new drawing class) and it's already starting to wear on me.
I'm going to have to spend close to $100 later this week. I'm wincing over it, but I can't go to job interviews needing a haircut and with 1-1/2 inch of gray roots showing, now can I?
I really didn't have anything interesting to say today.
Via a chain of online links, I found this site of "one star reviews" of ostensibly revered books. Very entertaining.
The Bridge of San Luis Rey (1927)Author: Thornton Wilder
“Basically all that happens is five people die on a small bridge and then the author goes on to discuss these people’s lives. What a BORE. Unless you’re some philosophical nerd, you will not enjoy this book at ALL. If I was the author of this book I’d tell myself to get a grip on the real world.”
Heh. And it's even more fun when the reviewer is trashing a book that I, myself, have never been able to love. Or even tolerate.
“In the first 20 pages, Alex and his lackies beat a guy senseless and rob him; they steal a car and trash it, they get into a vicious gang fight; they attack a couple at their home, destroy the husband’s life work (his book, A Clockwork Orange), beat him and his wife senseless, and rape the wife. This really ticked me off.”
Yes, Anthony Burgess's, "A Clockwork Orange".
And:
“While the story did have a great moral to go along with it, it was about dirt! Dirt and migrating. Dirt and migrating and more dirt.” “While the story did have a great moral to go along with it, it was about dirt! Dirt and migrating. Dirt and migrating and more dirt.”
That was "Grapes of Wrath."
I won't spoil any more of them. Go. Read. Giggle.
(And don't miss the, “The book is not readable because of the overuse of adverbs.”)
_____________________
(Yes, crossposted on other blog. Sue me.)
Okay, you know what? McSwain! got a lot more comments than I did and while part of it may be that she's on LJ and the word got out about her snippet and part of it may be that she's just a better writer than I am, I don't care.
Now I'm mad and I'm not playing any more.
Posted by AnneZook at 11:47 AM | Comments (0)How is this possible? I bought a lottery ticket, but I didn't win! It's very puzzling.
I guess I'd better cancel my plans to cancel my plans to spend the day job hunting.
Sigh. The R.C. just called. She did something to her ankle last night and is going to spend the day at home taking care of it. I'm going to check with her in an hour or two and see if she's okay or if she needs me to come home and take her to the doctor. (She said I should come home and nurse her now but I don't have so many paid days left to me that I'm willing to give one up, you know? I mean, I totally would if she needed me. In a heartbeat. But she had that, "let's take a day off and goof around" attitude.)
Can't leave her alone for a second sometimes. I mean, do I have to start worrying every time I'm out to class from now on that she might be breaking some of her bits?
No fair! McSwain! posted a snippet as well and she's getting better love and fawning than I am. Do I have to remind y'all again that I know where you live? (Well, I don’t know where all of you live, but I, as always, assume that most of those daily visits showing up on my stats come from spammers or something.)
Okay, so McSwain! is a better writer than I am. Who cares? This isn't about quality, it's about whoring yourself out for gain. (Based on what I've reaped so far, I'm thinking it's good I didn't choose a life on the streets. I'd have starved.)
Be warned...the stuff I picked out to follow the first effort is both longer and considerably worse than that bland snippet I posted. The punishment will continue until the feedback increases. Get the hint?
The problem with my friends and loved ones is that y'all lack moral and ethical flexibility. How much work would it have been to post a couple of extra comments under made-up names? Sheesh. I have to do all the work.
(Yes, I know it's only been twelve hours. I don't care. I have at least four more hours to fill today until my one-and-only Work-Related Project. I have to do something to pass the time and abusing my friends is what appeals to me today.)
Tonight is Class Night, but I won't go on and on about it. Suffice to say that tonight begins Round Two and Teacher has promised we'll be doing more advanced work. I tremble...much of what we did this last round was so far beyond me that I was buying a book every week to teach me how to do what was necessary to complete the assignments.
Many people might say, "Hey! If it's all that much work, why don't you take a less-advanced class?" But, me? I say if you're going to do something, you should stretch yourself to the max. No point in doing what's within your grasp. You have to reach for genius.
I don't know why I say that. I talk to myself that way sometimes. Usually when I'm slouched into a chair, eating potato chips and pretending I'm about to bounce up and actually Do Something with my life.
Some people fantasize about being in the Olympics. Or running for public office. Or saving a life. Me, I fantasize about getting through one day where I don't fail to live up to my own expectations of me.
That's what I like about drawing (and, yes, it does occur to me that I promised not to go on and on and now I'm going on and on). My standards for what I think I should be able to accomplish are pretty low.
But you should Do Something with your life, I do believe that. Everyone should have at least one Awfully Big Adventure in their life.
Me, I've had a lot of little adventures, but I sometimes fantasize about one Awfully Big Adventure.
Like the current Powerball Jackpot (for which I did, for once, remember to purchase a ticket). I frequently fantasize about what I'd do with my half of a $340,000,000 jackpot.* Can you imagine the satisfaction if your "job" in life was to create and fund work-study, scholarship, and opportunity programs for people? Makes the head spin....
(* The R.C. gets the other half and at the moment it's her intent to buy an island in a temperate zone and put up a big fence to keep the world out because she's very busy and stressed at work these days and what she really wants out of her life is to live it without other people around.) (Me, I'm not moving anywhere there's no shopping.)
Pondering this entry, I find myself wondering if reading silliness like this is preferable to scarring your psyche with the dregs of my writing years or if you'd rather sprain your brains around my fictional prose than my stream-of-consciousness life prose? I don't know that I care deeply because it's my blog and I'll post whatever I want and not even my nearest and dearest are expected (and I frequently remind you) to read it, but I do ponder it.
Mostly, though, I'm regretting that I wasn't unavailable when the Mountain Man showed up half an hour ago. Granted, I put all of the goodies I purchased into the kitchen to be shared by everyone in the office, but the dark chocolate almond bark is whispering temptation to me.
I mean, I'd like a drink of cold water, but I'd have to walk past the chocolate to get to the refrigerator and I'm not sure I'm up to the challenge.
I warned you.
Fandom: Highlander
Size: 152 words! Even for a "snippet" that seems pretty short.
Pedigree: Originally written 6/97.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Of Tears, the aftermark
Of almost too much love
...
__To Earthward__
Robert Frost
Sleep, blessed sleep. I got some last night. In fact, I got quite a lot.
So, today's mood is much improved. I didn't even really mind coming in and spending the first 1-1/2 doing some of the Tweenybopper's work that she doesn't seem to have gotten around to in the last week.
Conference call today on the status of Hell's Own Software installations, so I have to frantically make a bunch of calls to try, one more time, to catch one of these health care providers between patients. (I'm working on them now.)
I see Lynnzo finally posted the story she owes to inapickle.
I wish I was writing. I haven't had a chance to read her story yet, but I'm sure it's just lovely. Can't read it at work, I'll have to read it tonight. Sigh. I shouldn't even be blogging. At this moment, Buehler is trying desperately to find enough work to keep making payroll.
He sort of half-offered to keep me on a bit longer if he can squeeze money out of Blister-Pak during today's conversation. Which, since neither of us like Blister-Pak, I consider to be noble of Buehler.
Now I feel seriously guilty for not having looked for a job more consistently over the last six weeks. Even if I was pinning all my hopes on Coco.
Buehler asked if I'd seriously considered taking Collette up on her offer to put me in touch with a recruiter looking for people. I've thought about it...but I really don't care for working in the healthcare field, my impression of the kind of job the recruiter is filling is that it doesn't pay well and they drive you nuts, and I'd actually prefer to work with Coco because the job she's talking to me about is right up my alley, being sort of half-tech and half-customer service. It's not my impression, from what Collette said, that the jobs the recruiter has would actually make use of any of my strengths.
I shouldn't be blogging. Buehler is sweating it out, trying to find business and I'm sitting here, wasting time and money on personal chitchat.
And yet...here I sit, don't I? Blogging.
It must be sad to be the actual owner of a company. If things get bad, you can't hide from them, you have to stay in there, fighting every minute.
Me, when work gets stressful, I think about my personal life. When my personal life gets complicated, I pour my energy into working.
We all have our coping strategies. Mine revolve around doing a lot of hiding from reality.
In other news, I made it through my blogroll last night, for the first time in over a week. I even followed links here and there to journals of people I don't know, a thing I almost never have the time to do. (I had free time because last week's Drawing Class Homework was only one drawing, instead of the usual 5-7.)
I see that it's become very acceptable to post "snippets" of 200 or 400 words, instead of writing an actual story. And I see from the comment strings that those who write for feedback are making out like bandits with these bits of nothingness.
So I, too, am going to begin whoring myself out. Begging for love in return for 200 words of dialogue or a half-considered bit of action that runs to less than a page of text.
I have many and many and many dribs and drabs of crap on my hard drive at home. I could beg for love fifty times just by yanking out the occasional bits of coherent dialogue and posting them as "snippets."
Those of you who are my friends...remember that I know where you live so be prepared to pour forth love and admiration or face the consequences. I'm about to be unemployed and I'm stressing.
[pause....]
Okay. Sorry about that. Little psychotic moment there.
I really do need to call my doctor and get my dosage increased, don't I?
On the other hand, what are friends for if not for offering you support at the moments when you deserve it least, but need it most?
Another topic of stress: Smoking. It's gotten very expensive to buy cigarettes in Colorado. I'm looking ahead at my Impending Unemployment and I'm acutely aware that the money I've accumulated will last me a lot longer if I'm not spending $3.50/day on portable carcinogens.
Of course, when I'm suffering occasional interludes of dementia, not to mention irrational hostility, from the I.C., fighting to lose weight, and unemployed and stressing madly over my ever-dwindling bank balance...is this really the time to add the psychosis of quitting smoking to the mix?
What do you think? Should I just go ahead and do all my psychotic things at once, or spread them out? (If you were the person sharing a domicile with me, would you consider this a good time to leave town for a week?)
I have to decide. I have one cigarette left. Should I go buy more, or just suck it up and deal with the slide into insanity?
__________________________
P.S. Hey! Bernie just came in to chat! He didn't know I was leaving and now he thinks he'd like to hire me. If some jobs he has pending come through.
He also said really good things about my work ethic and, with the memory of the countless hours I've spent politiblogging over the last three years in my head, I'm feeling guilty and ashamed.
Not.
Boy, did I sleep badly last night. I don't know what the problem was, but I woke up about eight times. I'm a chronic insomniac, I have trouble falling asleep, but normally once I am asleep, nothing short of a jackhammer bothers me.
Anyhow. I'm not accustomed to having my sleep disturbed and consequently, on those few occasions when I don’t sleep well, I don't have a lot of coping strategies. I'm just bitchy.
Anyhow. I finally got my resume done and today I'm searching the online sites for a job. I sent Coco a clear, well? hiring? not? e-mail on Friday but haven't heard back from her yet. (She's not he most e-mail friendly of all my friends and it usually takes her 3-4 days to answer an e-mail.)
On a more positive note, having wasted 4 weeks of my paid "notice" that I'm going to be unemployed, I decided I needed to spend these last two weeks actually looking for a job.
I even sent off a resume already this morning. I mean, I have zero expectation of hearing back from anyone, even though the position sounds like it's right up my alley, because there are so many thousands of people hunting for jobs on monter.com that employers are overwhelmed, but at least I made a step, right?
I checked the Denver newspaper sites. No jobs worth having.
Two steps. No progress.
Also, I'm bitter today because I got the e-mail confirming the dates for the next Escapade and if the universe doesn't come though with a job pretty soon, I'm going to have to cancel.
Again attempting to return to the positive side of life, I notice with amazement that it's not 12:45. Where has the day gone so far?
Beyond a 2:30 meeting (that will probably go 1-1/2 hours), my "to do" list today includes only two items:
Iron.
Put the Powerball out of its misery and buy a ticket for the next drawing! (I'm fairly certain that the jackpot has climbed to $340,000,000 because it's waiting for me to get me act together.) (On the other hand, any person or event waiting for me to get my act together is going to be waiting a while. I'm getting kind of old and it's never been known to happen yet.)
I don't feel good and I'm not happy today. I need a nap.
Maybe I should go get some lunch.
My head is all full of a story today but it's not a story I want to tell so make it stop.
Buehler's out of town until Tuesday but my work ethic kicked in this morning anyhow, so I've been working most of the day. So tedious on a Friday....
I had five phone calls to make today. I made all of them, but I only reached one person.
I have seven more to make on Monday, plus a 2-h0ur training session. Monday's going to be a big day for me.
Job status: Haven't heard a peep out of Coco. I can't decide if that's because she's busy or because they're not really ready to hire anyone at the moment. I have two weeks left of gainful employment. I'm starting to stress out.
Today's lunch: turkey sandwich. Not exciting, but it will help me achieve my Target Weight. I just need to drop two more pounds and then I can stop worrying about the stupid diet for a while. (Although, I do have to admit that losing weight is much less a factor of what I eat, aside from making sure I get enough protein, than how much I eat. I can't believe the number of years I spent estimating what a 'portion size' of something was and consistently over-estimating by at least50%.)
My mouth really wants more sushi. Sigh. I hate it when I get an obsession with something new. It's never something cheap like listening to the radio or building stick figures out of toothpicks. It's always something expensive and complicated. OTOH, at least seafood is Diet Food.
In that category would have to fall hearing a man's voice and a woman's voice, raised in cheerful conversation from behind the closed door of the men's room in the hallway.
Posted by AnneZook at 02:21 PM | Comments (0)#1 - Meghan and Kellie are in a lot of trouble. Thanks to them I've been on a week-long sushi kick. Good sushi is not cheap and I probably could have stood to wait another couple of years to find out that I really do like it. Or at least until I wasn't facing impending unemployment.
#2 - Last night I caved in to moral pressure and told Teacher I'd sign up for another 5-6 stint in her next class. In return, she's promised to cover more on composition, a thing I asked for. And we'll be doing watercolor and pen-and-ink but mostly I already have the supplies I'm going to need, so aside from the class fee and gasoline, it shouldn't be an expensive indulgence this time around.
#3 - If your doctor puts you on Womanly Hormone Pills to control the symptoms of the I.C. you have no one to blame but yourself if you let the prescription run out, go without the meds for three days, and find yourself in a swamp of symptoms again.
#4 - Even if you like your boss, it's very peaceful and calming to have them out of town for a few days. (Have a good trip, Buehler! Don't hurry back on my account.)
#5 - I love winter, when it's about 26 degrees outside and all you have to do is stand in it for a few minutes to feel deliciously cool. This is not unconnected with #3 above.
#6 - Even if your boss is out of town and it's serene and quiet in your office, you shouldn't eat so much lunch that you feel like taking a long nap around 1:30 in the afternoon. (See: #1 above)
#7 - What do you do if someone asks, "Hey! Would you like to have this?" And you say, "No, thanks." And they give it to you anyhow?
I know. I'm letting too much time go in between blog entries these days.
There are times when I either have time to live my life, or I have time to talk about it, but not both. Especially when you consider that I absolutely require 2-4 hours a day in which I'm doing essentially nothing, for emotional and mental stability.
And because I'm slothful and lazy.
For instance, last night I lost an argument with the R.C. about driving the 1/2 block to get my prescription refills (I was going to swing by on the way home) and she shamed me into walking and we wound up at Whole Foods. So I bough sushi for today's lunch.
That wasn't the world's slickest segue, was it? But I think it does illustrate a certain laziness.
Also, we were rewatching Pride and Prejudice Monday and Tuesday evening, and that takes up a lot of my brain.
There are many blog entries I haven't written this week.
I didn't write about the firemen in the parking lot, the screamer in the night, or the Great Power Outage of 10/10.
I also have not (yet) blogged about Strings, Wicked, or the Rialto Café.
I have not blogged my latest MYSA-AS thoughts, my disappointment with the fall television premiere, or anything boring about my drawing classes.
The other morning, I had brilliant thoughts on writing, including a few lines I was going to throw out for some casual passer-by to scoop up and write amazing stories around.
I have not recently had (or taken) the time to read my buddies LJs, which makes me a bad friend.
Pause.
I felt so badly about that that I went and read people's blogs. Much is happening in other folks' lives.
My big yen at the moment is to go rent videos. The R.C. will be out tomorrow evening so I may stop off at Hollywood on the way home and pick up a thing or two.
It's an improvement over my normal urge to go shopping, but it does occur to me that if I buy something new, then I have something for my money. With renting, you have to give it back.
Would I like to watch a-n-i-m-e-, do you think? I'm not at all sure I would. I suspect that at the moment what I mostly want to do is not be at work, thus the idea of wandering around a video store that I don't visit often appeals to me. Also, if I find some movie that I want to see and haven't seen yet, that's two hours I won't spend obsessing over my impending joblessness.
A more sensible, more rational person would spend that two hours polishing their resume and job-hunting on-line. I'm well aware of this.
MYSA-AS Update:
I have tried a number of new things, none of which I remember being particularly entranced with. I continue to marvel over the drawing in the ones I already own and am beginning to p0nder the considerable stylistic differences between Eastern and Western artists.
Tonight, of course, is Class Night. I did not complete my class assignments. Color me so embarrassed.
At the moment I'm seriously planning to sign up for this class again. Teacher has promised new techniques and new assignments and I think I need the structure of a class to keep me moving on this project.
On my own, I was experimenting with pen drawing earlier this week. It's very interesting. And very different. I managed, by dint of much concentration (i.e., I frowned and drank a lot of coffee), to produce a recognizable Log. Not any special Log, just a Log laying on the ground. And a very scanty representation of a stand of trees. Oh! And some candles. I almost forgot my candles.
This, you understand, is how I spent most of my day off on Monday. Trying to learn how to handle texture and shadow with nothing but a piece of white paper and a black pen.
For my birthday, I think I'm going to ask the R.C. for a book I've been looking at that will explain to me what I don't know about pen techniques, and that offers a few exercises. And, if I can find a basic enough book, something that will help me with Line. Line is the foundation of drawing. At the moment, I understand that Line exists, as a concept, but I've no idea what, precisely, the experts are referring to when they refer to Line. As it happens, my Bargain Drawing Book purchase that focuses on producing MYSA-AS drawings was very useful on Line and on Human Proportions. (At least, as far as it went, which wasn't far. Much of the book was devoted to creating and drawing a variety of half-humanoid or half-mechanoid monsters and characters, which isn't something that's of use or interest to me.) It has, in fact, occurred to me that the purchase of another such book might offer some valuable lessons on Line. I'm sure there are more available and if I look at them carefully before buying, I'm sure I can find one that focuses more on...well, you know, reality. I would rather have a Proper Drawing Book on Line, but I haven't yet been able to find one. If I have to go to the "how to draw g-r-a-p-h-i-c c-o-m-i-c-s" books to learn what I need to learn, so be it.
Sadly, with so much "Art", the only way to really learn is through practice. You have to sit down and try drawing things.
Including trying to copy The Masters, a task that never fails to depress me.
What I've discovered about Art is that 90% of "talent" is actually just knowing the tips and techniques for using different media, and enough practice to be on firm ground using them.
The other 10%, of course, is what separates the Artiste from the Dabbler. It's a way of looking at things, of interpreting them, that's not quite the way everyone else sees them. Since I don't aspire to that, I have every confidence that, should my interest in this topic last a few more months, I'll become reasonably proficient at transferring ink (or graphite) to paper in a style representational enough to enable the viewer to identify the subject matter.
There really had to be a simpler way to say that. Sometimes I wonder if my brain, anticipating a day when I'll be suffering from senility, is in a big hurry to use all of the words I know, before I don't know them any more.
If I keep practicing, I'm fairly certain I'll be producing recognizable sketches of real-life items in a few months.
The key, of course, is to keep practicing. I am, as you all know, prone to fads and moods. I fall in love with something and spend all my energy on it, then abruptly get bored of it (writing, politiblogging, etc.) and move on to something new.
But I'm reassured that my attempts to learn to draw are proving the central theory of my life is, in fact, quite true.
If you want to learn something, buy a book.
I'm feeling beboppy today because it's Friday! Someone who is as worried as I am about continued employment probably shouldn't be so thrilled to see the end of a workweek, but I never claimed to be sensible, logical, or consistent.
Mind you, I'm not as happy as I was three minutes ago. I was really happy three minutes ago.
If I'd known how short the interval was going to be between the time I finished my only scheduled meeting for the day and the time I dumped half a cup of coffee down my shirtfront, I probably would have been even happier. I'd have been savoring the moments.
Fortunately, since it's going to be with me for the next nine or ten hours, I like the smell of coffee.
So, the question is, do I leave at 4:30 today, because I had to be here early for a 7:30 meeting, or do I leave at 4:15 because I actually arrived at 7:15, even though I spent the first fifteen minutes playing computer games?
Three hours later....
At the moment my work ethic, such as it is, is at war with That Friday Feeling.
Buehler is in and he has PMS. But that's not new, he had it yesterday.
He's in that really, really annoying Boss Mode where he wants to me to stay Right. At. My. Desk. Every moment. There's nothing he needs me to do, you understand. And our office is about 50 paces from one side to the other, so it isn't as though he couldn't find me if he needed me. He's just...freaky and needy. This is the kind of Boss Behavior that used to drive me bonkazoid nuts in a previous employer until I realized it was rooted in insecurity.
Now, I just think that anyone desperate to keep me around in case they can't handle life without me is in more trouble than they know.
I'm in a sort of "whatever" mood at the moment.
I had a six a.m. training for seven people who managed to dink away 30 minutes of our limited 90 minute session just getting logged in.
Buehler, who wasn't supposed to be here today, is here today. And he's got major PMS. He was taking the day off and he's cranky that he had to come in. It's not my fault he didn't get everything done he wanted to get done earlier this week, so why's he biting my head off?
I didn't bring any chocolate today and I desperately want some.
And I haven't heard from Coco. I've decided I have to give up on her company actually doing anything and start ho'ing myself out on the job market. Resumes. Cover letters. Desperate hours waiting for the phone to ring and for someone to validate my existence as a human being. Sweating the possible interval between when my unemployment runs out and I'll actually get a new job.
It's at times like this that I really miss being obsessive about fandom. At least that used to give me something to distract myself with. As it is, the only thing I have for my brain to focus on at the moment is whether to go ahead and buy myself some new books and toys now, so I have things to play with when I'm unemployed, or to hoard every dollar against the coming famine.
Anyhow, the whole "preparing documents" thing is why I really wanted Buehler not to be here today. The resume will be reasonably simple but composing a cover letter that can be modified as needed for each application takes more thought. And a lot of typing, which will lead Buehler to asking me what I'm working on and it's all just icky from there.
After walking out without warning the other day, Extension 17 had the nerve today to cal today and ask for his two weeks' severance paycheck with his regular check this week. Actually...no, what he wanted was his severance check today. Which, you know, you do have to give someone their check when you lay them off unless you're having them work out their notice, which is what he was supposed to do, so he's not really entitled to get any check early. And he lied about the number of hours he's worked in the last two weeks, because I heard him. Coming from the perspective of someone who rolled out of bed at 5:15 this morning so she could be alert enough to handle seven trainees at 6:00, that makes me bitter.
Also having Blisterak call up today and demand to know details about how many calls we've made and received in the last 60 days makes me bitter since we haven't been making many calls because he wouldn't let us talk to anyone and so he's on today's Idiot List.
I do have three phone calls to make and I should make them now but if I do, then I have nothing to look forward to for the rest of the day except my 2:30 training, and that's probably going to have to be rescheduled because Bossyboots, et. al. don't bother to check their work when they prepare data for import and the client's imported data isn't showing properly.
I'm thinking I should call my doctor and get the level of my hormones increased, what do you think? I'm sure grouchy these days, anyhow.
Also, I owe one of my nieces a letter and I meant to write that today but I forgot to bring hers in with me, for the sixth day in a row, making me a major lame-oid.
And I'm pondering which drawing class to sign up for next time. The second class I was going to take turns out to only be meeting twice, which hardly seems worth the investment. Now I'm thinking I'd rather move ahead with this same class instead, since it gives me six classes for the same amount of money. Except that the second class covers slightly different topics, and ones I'm interested in. But for $75, I should get the most bang for my buck that I can, right? And this teacher is setting up a whole series of lectures. The use of music in film. Art in nature. A bunch of things like that, each led by a separate expert. (No charge.) Some of them sound fascinating. I'd be embarrassed to go if I bailed on her next class in favor of taking Drawing 101. (Even if I should be in Drawing 101.)
And so it begins...the big brain meltdown that accompanies unemployment. The last time I was out of work for five months and it was all I could do to bathe on a regular basis. Making any larger decisions was entirely beyond me.
Okay, granted, I have three weeks before I actually become unemployed, but I'm preparing in advance. Isn't that efficient of me?
Also, Moe is driving me nuts. Yes, he's in London, but thanks to the Magic of E-Mail, I've had nine messages from him today complaining that his IP phone isn't working the way he wants.
Well, no, it's not. They did a major upgrade to the system, as I said repeatedly via e-mail last week. Until you plug the ip phone in and let it upgrade to match the system, none of your new settings are going to kick in. So, you know.
Stupidity on your part.
Does not constitute an emergency on my part.
(Never write to me again.)
At a guess, I'd say that I just don't have anything to say. That's unusual for me.
I mean...I'm here. And I'm willing to waste a few work hours blogging. But I can't think of anything to talk about.
I'm being Frugal. I'm dieting. I promised myself I wouldn't drivel on endlessly about drawing any more. That just doesn't leave much.
Stairs so far today: 114. But at a walk, not a run. Borrring.
Last night I had salad for dinner. Double borrring.
I've fallen in love with a secondary character in one of my MYSA-AS books. Borrring for everyone but me.
I have nine assignments to complete for drawing class and I'm only going to get five of them done. The five, sadly, will not include the one assignment that the teacher said was important. Unless motivation comes over me in a rush at 5:45 this evening, when I get home from work, I'm going to find myself stammering and making excuses tomorrow evening.
(One short paragraph does not an 'endless drivel' make.)
I was going to do this "writing exercises" thing with a friend and I did make a start, but then I got tired of my topic before I got more than half of the required word-count, so I have to start over.
It's possible I could have composed some kind of decent blog entry, but Alvin's wandering around, waiting for Buehler to show up, and he keeps coming into my office and pretending to look out the window so he can see what I'm working on and it's annoying me.
There's a bit of turmoil around here, owing to Extension 17 having been given the news yesterday that he was being laid off. He was offered a very generous (in his income bracket) financial incentive to make the transition smooth but since he walked out in a huff thirty minutes after he was given the news, things are a bit disturbed today. PsychoBob has been called in to fill in the gap. He's quite competent, even brilliant in his way, but he's a guy who always seems right on the verge of going postal with a vial of exotic poison or one of those ugly knives with a lot of teeth.
I don't like the games that come with Windows. I like Spider solitaire, but I hate that if you give up and restart a game, it counts against you in the stats. I hate a program that says, "Ha! Ha! You're a big loser!"
I'm grouchy today.