I had been meaning to talk to you about latching back onto the hearing lab, the experiment I've had an on-again off-again relationship since 2000. The current iteration, with someone I had worked the last time I was on-again with these guys (which was about a year and a half ago, I think?), was one of the hardest to understand and get right. I had to pick from two series of signals the one that sounded like it was moving in and out of my audio range. Think of having two speakers right in front of you. Now move those speakers to where your ears, move them back in front of your eyes, then back to your ears. Match one of those two signals to the sound you heard from that. That was my objective.
And it was hard, so goddamn hard to do. In fact, the person heading this experiment eventually warned me after a few days of inconsistent data that if I don't give her the results that she's looking for -- isn't that illegal? -- she is going to drop me from the lab. Essentially, she was threatening to fire me. And as you know, I don't respond to threats well.
But then I remembered seeing my wallet when I put my wages, twenty bucks, into it. And then I saw myself being surprised at how much more money there was in my wallet, not less. And then I imagined that there would be money basically growing in my wallet, and that was a good feeling -- a feeling that would be lost if I didn't get the runs right.
Well, it was a struggle, but eventually I did well enough to stick around. And that was a huge relief for me. I'm paying my way around town during the days I was getting the fuck away from my parents, who I think are just about, gulp, done with The Store, and I have been using my ATM and checking account to fund the food and entertainment I've been using to while away the minutes. I wouldn't need to do that anymore if my "income" comes from the U. hearing experiment. Instead I could protect my account, letting it grow, albeit slightly, from the unemployment I'm collecting. I might manage to pay off my credit card bills and, in April, my taxes after all!
Fuck all that because it all came crashing down today. At 4, the supposed end of my session, she told me to go back in and do two last runs of signals. I did it because, and I'm not that proud of it, I fell asleep. I think all these mornings of waking up at a decent hour have gotten to me, because this is not the first but in fact the second time I fell asleep in the lab, like, dead asleep, something I had never done before until I came back to the lab. I felt so stupid doing it -- OK, I felt stupid to get caught; she was monitoring me with a second monitor right at her desk -- that I profusely apologized and went back into the sound booth to finish them.
But I didn't know I was finished, period, until I bolted out the booth once I got done, 15 minutes after I was supposed to be over. And the way she said it was weird: "You are now free to not come back Thursday or Friday. We will call you if we need you." I am "now free to not come back?" Obviously you're not getting your Ph. D. in grammar because that doesn't make fucking sense. Don't sugarcoat this -- you're letting me go. At least have the decency to say so, fuck. A few weeks after I was afraid I was going to lose my job, I actually lose my job.
I guess I should have seen it coming. For a long time, almost a decade ago, the experiments I participated in were basically open-ended. My work at the lab was done not because all the data was collected but because I found another temp job. That's not the case the past few years; I've just been told, we're done. I just haven't been told that so abruptly like I was Wednesday. So because of that, missy, I don't feel bad for falling asleep during the middle of "work" anymore.
So now what the fuck am I supposed to do? Seriously, I have depleted my account to nothing. Next I'll have to liquidate my Certificate of Deposit. And if that's not enough to pay my taxes, I'll have to start dipping into my stocks. Not to mention that there is a trip to Kansas City I have to take (more on that later), and I still want to visit Detroit next month.
This is it for me, guys, I am at the end of my rope because I have nowhere else to turn to make a living. I'm saddened and frustrated and angry. Combine that with My Fucking Father nagging on me fucking again to wake up early in the morning like he wants to, and my trigger is about to be pushed. I'm going to get up whenever the fuck I want to tomorrow morning, and if My Fucking Father wants to bitch about it, or worse, tries to wake me up, I swear to fucking God, I don't give a shit about no goddamn contract, I will fucking lose it. Goddammit, don't fuckin' set me off, 'cause I am close to the edge, mutherfucker.
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