I say that because I was told by my temp agency on Friday. Technically my last day was supposed to be yesterday, but I was in the middle of something, so, just to make absolutely sure I would not be the last person to know that I'm being let go, I was going to ask my boss at some point during the day if I'm sticking around.
I got done with this thing I was "in the middle of," and when I went over to tell the boss, I was told he had already left for the weekend. Guess I'll ask him through e-mail, which is much less personal and, therefore, easier for me to raise something that is absolutely necessary but very tough to do in person.
I told him that I was done and, well, am I sticking around. He said I was, which is good ... but only for at least one more week. Up until now my assignment has been nudged forward two weeks at a time. But this time it was only a week. Uh-oh. Two weeks turns into one week which turns into ... zero.
Because it was time for me to check in with them anyway, after work I spoke to the temp agency to confirm what my boss told me. She said yes, and although it's possible -- possible -- that I could be extended another week, that second week, according to her, is the last time he could afford to have me and the male of The Two continue to work there.
So, I guess that's it. It's not losing my job in the middle of December, like I did two years ago, but it's not walking away mid-to-late March, like I did last year. It's somewhere inbetween, and regardless, probably by Friday (although I'll cross my fingers for the following Friday), this project, one that took a hell of a lot out of me, something I've never done before in my life, will suddenly be over.
Of course I don't like it. Yeah, there were times where I hated this job and everything, and everyone, surrounding it. But I did like the paycheck and the steady work (which I think would still be there if I got to stick around) and, frankly, it's OK now. But it's going to be over. And unlike last year, there isn't another job waiting for me. I am, or at least I should be, scrambling for one now. I wouldn't mind unemployment if my parents weren't home. But they are, and so I will have to figure out how to hide the fact that I have no job again.
This kind of sucks.
---
One thing that might save me. The person at the temp agency who fielded my call is, in my opinion, untrustworthy. She either may have been bluffing me, or she doesn't really, really know when my time is going to end there. If that's the case, maybe I get to stay on a little longer. I have no hope other than that.
Saturday, January 10, 2015
Friday, January 9, 2015
A Rough Reintegration
OK, so it's been more than a day, and My Fucking Father still hasn't spoken to me. Either he's tired or he's still pissed that I didn't pick them up Wednesday morning (more on that later).
Last night (Thursday night) I holed up in bedroom the whole night after dinner. Didn't feel the need to invite any criticism from him. Then again, holing up in my bedroom may also invite criticism one of these days. He likes to hold grudges. He is who I got that from.
Now, tonight, I'm going to this wrestling thing and I haven't told my parents yet. What am I supposed to tell them? How? When? This is going to be rough.
Last night (Thursday night) I holed up in bedroom the whole night after dinner. Didn't feel the need to invite any criticism from him. Then again, holing up in my bedroom may also invite criticism one of these days. He likes to hold grudges. He is who I got that from.
Now, tonight, I'm going to this wrestling thing and I haven't told my parents yet. What am I supposed to tell them? How? When? This is going to be rough.
Thursday, January 8, 2015
The Weekly Minnesota Sports Survey
Positive Numbers: Gopher women's basketball (Last Week: -1). This has been a particularly brutal start to the year for Minnesota sports teams. Here's a fun fact: Since December 30, Twin Cities men's winter teams (which are the Timberwolves, Wild, Gopher men's basketball, Gopher men's hockey teams and, you may want to scoff, the Swarm) are 2-13. That blows.
So all if we have for a refuge against a local winter sports scene that will definitely be colder than the weather we're having right now is Twin Cities women's winter teams. I don't know if girls run the world, Beyonce, but they run Minnesota sports right now. So, even though the first WMNSS of 2015 is really shitty as a whole, the two women's teams stand out as exemplary. I may be skewing things by using Positive Numbers and 0, or I might not want to accurately reflect how sorry Minnesota is right now. But you've got to admit that the Gopher women's b-ball team is flying high right now.
For the eight days from New Year's Eve till January 7, that team -- without Rachel Banham, considered one of the five best Point Guards in women's college basketball -- whipped a pair of schools on the road, Purdue on New Year's Day and Wisconsin Sunday. They were keyed to this fast start by Sophomore Center Amanda Zahui B., who defended her Big Ten Player Of The Week award and also received espnW's POW award for the team's 3-0 start in conference play. She has been a beast this screening week, scoring 21, grabbing 19 rebounds, blocking five shots and making four assists against Purdue and having an 11-point, 12-board, three-rejection, three-dime afternoon versus Wisconsin. Granted, the Boilermakers and Badgers are not world-beaters. But neither for a long time was Minnesota. They are now on a ten-game winning streak, and this week they land in the Associated Press poll (#23) for the first time in more than eight years.
The first big test, and probably the most mouth-watering conference match-up in a long time, comes in the club's only game this week: At home vs. Maryland, featuring Brenda Frese (Oldfield), the Head Coach singlehandedly responsible for the Renaissance of the Minnesota women's basketball program, who left after just one year to guide the Terrapins to their first-ever women's national championship. The game's Sunday afternoon at 2, so just after the second half of the Green Bay-Dallas Divisional Game begins. I still might go!
#0: Gopher women's hockey (Re-Entry!). Meanwhile, the Gopher women keep chugging along, continuing their winning streak to 11 after whipping St. Lawrence at Ridder Arena by scores of 10-0 and 5-1 in what may be the first Sunday-Tuesday series in the history of the women's hockey program. Rachel Bona is WCHA Co-Offensive Player, and Kelly Pannek conference Rookie, Of The Week. Nevertheless they are solidly behind Boston College for the top spot in the polls.
I didn't realize this squad is in the middle of a seven-game homestand. They host Wisconsin this Saturday and Sunday afternoon.
#-1: Gopher men's hockey (Re-Entry!). So, after we've squared away the good women's teams, how do we rank the rank men's teams? The rest of the entries here have won two games this screening week. How do you separate them? Where do you start?
In the end I put the U. penis icers as Last Rat Standing for two reasons: They managed to win Saturday against the Rochester Institute of Technology and they still have the vast majority of conference ahead of them to turn their underachieving season around. But let's not mince words here: They had an awful weekend. Against what on paper should have been an overmatched lineup, they lost their Mariucci Classic when they were upset against Merrimack, a team whose location I do not know. Seriously, how the fuck can you lose to Merrimack and then show your face around campus?
I guess the only saving grace is that they're now back at full strength; three of their players were participating at the World Juniors Championships. This weekend they're at Michigan.
In the end I put the U. penis icers as Last Rat Standing for two reasons: They managed to win Saturday against the Rochester Institute of Technology and they still have the vast majority of conference ahead of them to turn their underachieving season around. But let's not mince words here: They had an awful weekend. Against what on paper should have been an overmatched lineup, they lost their Mariucci Classic when they were upset against Merrimack, a team whose location I do not know. Seriously, how the fuck can you lose to Merrimack and then show your face around campus?
I guess the only saving grace is that they're now back at full strength; three of their players were participating at the World Juniors Championships. This weekend they're at Michigan.
#-2: Swarm (Re-Entry!). I then selected the local box lacrosse team because they defied my prediction and is actually still around. Too bad they got blown out in the first game of the regular season, 20-13 to the Colorado Mammoth. I have no idea how good or bad this squad's supposed to be, but from the penury the owners were pleading, I still think they're trying to find young players on the cheap, therefore they are still going to face an uphill battle for success. They Smarm begin a three-game road trip vs. Edmonton Saturday.
#-3: Timberwolves (Last Week: -4). OK, this is just getting so absurd you can only laugh. The losing streak is now at 13 after losing this "screening week" to Sacramento, Utah, Denver and Phoenix. Believe or not -- you know, maybe it's not that hard to believe -- this streak is only tied for the fourth-longest in franchise history.
At this point you might as well hijack the rest of the year and tank. But like the Philadelphia 76ers last year, the worst record in the NBA does not equate to the first pick in the NBA Draft. And that's what's overlooked: You can't tank in The Association. Well, you can, but that doesn't mean you'll get what you want. You can never prevent tanking, but you can do the best you can not to reward it. Nevertheless, with all the best players still injured, what's the use of starting to win?
This week: At Milwaukee, home to San Antonio, then at Indiana.
At this point you might as well hijack the rest of the year and tank. But like the Philadelphia 76ers last year, the worst record in the NBA does not equate to the first pick in the NBA Draft. And that's what's overlooked: You can't tank in The Association. Well, you can, but that doesn't mean you'll get what you want. You can never prevent tanking, but you can do the best you can not to reward it. Nevertheless, with all the best players still injured, what's the use of starting to win?
This week: At Milwaukee, home to San Antonio, then at Indiana.
#-4: Wild (Last Week: -2). What happened Wednesday may be the surest sign yet that this promising squad, one that many Minnesota sports fans thought would be able to pull the state out of its sports doldrums in the winter, is spiraling into the toilet.
There wasn't a game Wednesday. There was a game Tuesday, where they lost to San Jose in overtime, 4-3. They had a 2-0 lead, then choked that away, then Jason Zucker managed to tie it at 3. But in OT, Goaltender Darcy Kuemper let in a slap shot, unscreened, from the top of the circle to cap the loss. That was the end of a 1-3 week, and this team is performing so conspicuously below expectations that I totally forgot that they managed to beat Toronto (who fired Head Coach Randy Carlyle Tuesday).
That caused Head Coach Mike Yeo to blame Kuemper for the loss after the game, then go ballistic and rip the whole team new assholes at practice the following morning. That is the sign of a Head Coach who has no idea what else to do.
Is it going to work? Right now I'm trying to finish this WMNSS so that I don't have to adjust this survey to account for their game against Chicago right now. But they're losing, so the tailspin may continue. One saving grace: Zach Parise, by far the best (and seems to be most professional) player on the Mild, will soon be back after the passing of his father, Minnesota North Stars great J.P. Parise, Thursday. If Yeo can't light a fire under this team's ass, maybe Parise can. This week they also host Nashville, return a game against the Blackhawks, and visit Pittsburgh.
That caused Head Coach Mike Yeo to blame Kuemper for the loss after the game, then go ballistic and rip the whole team new assholes at practice the following morning. That is the sign of a Head Coach who has no idea what else to do.
Is it going to work? Right now I'm trying to finish this WMNSS so that I don't have to adjust this survey to account for their game against Chicago right now. But they're losing, so the tailspin may continue. One saving grace: Zach Parise, by far the best (and seems to be most professional) player on the Mild, will soon be back after the passing of his father, Minnesota North Stars great J.P. Parise, Thursday. If Yeo can't light a fire under this team's ass, maybe Parise can. This week they also host Nashville, return a game against the Blackhawks, and visit Pittsburgh.
#-5: Gopher men's basketball (Last Week: -3). Here is the other team that choked in OT Tuesday and is now seeing its season spiral out of control. The defending NIT champions lost at Maryland in a game they weren't in ever, and then lost home to Ohio St. The Buckeyes defeat is worse because they had the lead, then lost it, then had to battle back just to get it to OT, where bad shots and, ironically, too many passes led to turnovers which led to opponent points. I learned from Seth Davis of Sports Illustrated that the Gophers are one of the oldest teams in College Basketball Nation. If that's the case, they look more decrepit than experienced.
No Gophers club that started conference play 0-3 has ever made the NCAAs. They play at Michigan then host Iowa this week.
No Gophers club that started conference play 0-3 has ever made the NCAAs. They play at Michigan then host Iowa this week.
#-Infinity: Gopher football (Re-Entry!). OK, I didn't think I would blog about the football team, but after they lost, soundly, to Missouri on New Year's Day in the Citrus Bowl, I have to point out that Minnesota has now lost its last ... six (?) and haven't won its exhibition since 2004. And while the program is making strides, they lost to a good but not great SEC team, which means they have a ways to go. At some point they have to win a fucking bowl game, come on.
Wednesday, January 7, 2015
One thing that scares me about my parents coming home: There may -- just may -- be money missing. It was stashed on the piano keys, below the cover. It was there the first time they left, but I had not checked there since they left for a second time.
The money was there for emergencies, in case I needed cash on hand for something unforeseen, like a broken furnace or washing machine. But then they blindsided me when they came home, and Mother and I got into a fight over me depositing the money that she was mailed in my checking account because I didn't want too much cash lying around just in case someone broke into the house. (Real reason: I had the psychological need to see my account fatten, even if it was artificial.) We never did resolve that argument, but Mother calmed down after that. She may also have decided that she didn't need to throw emergency money in the piano. But Mother and I didn't talk about it before she left, and I never checked if that emergency stash was still there, until a couple days ago. And it wasn't.
Problem is, my ATF, ***e*, came over to clean the house. Now, I trust her, but ... you know? So you see, if it was there, or if Mother believes she put it there (I'm not saying that she could be wrong, I'm saying that she can be an irrational bitch much of the time), and it's gone, I have no explanation. And then she might ask me, "Did you bring anyone into the house?" and I still have no idea how I would answer that. So I hope to God and Buddha that she took that money away, and there was no emergency fund thrown into the piano.
I have to go to sleep. In several hours I have to wake up and go to the airport.
The money was there for emergencies, in case I needed cash on hand for something unforeseen, like a broken furnace or washing machine. But then they blindsided me when they came home, and Mother and I got into a fight over me depositing the money that she was mailed in my checking account because I didn't want too much cash lying around just in case someone broke into the house. (Real reason: I had the psychological need to see my account fatten, even if it was artificial.) We never did resolve that argument, but Mother calmed down after that. She may also have decided that she didn't need to throw emergency money in the piano. But Mother and I didn't talk about it before she left, and I never checked if that emergency stash was still there, until a couple days ago. And it wasn't.
Problem is, my ATF, ***e*, came over to clean the house. Now, I trust her, but ... you know? So you see, if it was there, or if Mother believes she put it there (I'm not saying that she could be wrong, I'm saying that she can be an irrational bitch much of the time), and it's gone, I have no explanation. And then she might ask me, "Did you bring anyone into the house?" and I still have no idea how I would answer that. So I hope to God and Buddha that she took that money away, and there was no emergency fund thrown into the piano.
I have to go to sleep. In several hours I have to wake up and go to the airport.
Tuesday, January 6, 2015
A 24-Hour Reprieve ... Or Is It?
While I was completing my previous blog post, I called Mother to tell her about the daily mail. She then told me that she was coming home not this (Tuesday) morning but (I might as well say it) next (Wednesday) morning. So all this preparation, rush and stress to make things neat and tidy for my parents could be stretched over 48 hours. That's good news, right?
Initially I thought so. I was hoping that everything as it stood now would be acceptable. But with an extra day, I didn't have to worry so much about getting anything that could be in better shape into better shape. And suddenly I felt like I was behind on things to actually being ahead. The house was clean, and that's the most important thing. After the call I straightened out my room, stashed most of my mail and magazines out of plain view of My Fucking Father, and continued washing the laundry. The main thing I still need to do is go through as many papers as possible (which I could do seeing as I now have an extra night and afternoon) and take all the rest to storage. And now I could do that tomorrow instead of running around Monday night.
So after I tried plowing through a couple papers, I thought I was about to pass out, so I decided to take a nap. But after some tossing and turning, and possibly passing out for 15 minutes, I woke up a little more stressed than when I went to bed. Why? Because with an extra night I really, really want to entertain myself instead of preparing for them to come home. Specifically I want to see Big Hero 6, which is playing at the perfect time after I leave work. Then, at night, I want to hit My Favorite Stripclub (Non-Cover Edition) and use a coupon for a free appetizer at a restaurant downtown before coming home and taking in some shuteye before getting up really early Wednesday morning. I really want to go out because it's My Last Night Of Freedom, and I'll be out and about anyway after I throw all my shit into storage.
But I realize that that I don't have a whole lot of time to clean up if I plan on doing all those things. After coming home from the movie I'll have probably an hour, maybe 90 minutes, to take up all the stuff I need to stash in my storage bin before the place closes at 9. And that doesn't take into account the phone call I have to make tomorrow to Mother, or the fact that I need to gas up both cars on Double Discount Tuesday, or that both my medications and the long underwear I ordered are now ready for pick-up.
So I go from having all the time in the world to having no time. Well, unless I decide not to go to the movie or the stripclub or the restaurant. But that would be no fun, and that'd also be a concession that I have to knuckle under my parents' thumbs, and I don't want to do that. Therefore I don't know what to do. I should do something. But if that's the case, why am I still writing this?
Initially I thought so. I was hoping that everything as it stood now would be acceptable. But with an extra day, I didn't have to worry so much about getting anything that could be in better shape into better shape. And suddenly I felt like I was behind on things to actually being ahead. The house was clean, and that's the most important thing. After the call I straightened out my room, stashed most of my mail and magazines out of plain view of My Fucking Father, and continued washing the laundry. The main thing I still need to do is go through as many papers as possible (which I could do seeing as I now have an extra night and afternoon) and take all the rest to storage. And now I could do that tomorrow instead of running around Monday night.
So after I tried plowing through a couple papers, I thought I was about to pass out, so I decided to take a nap. But after some tossing and turning, and possibly passing out for 15 minutes, I woke up a little more stressed than when I went to bed. Why? Because with an extra night I really, really want to entertain myself instead of preparing for them to come home. Specifically I want to see Big Hero 6, which is playing at the perfect time after I leave work. Then, at night, I want to hit My Favorite Stripclub (Non-Cover Edition) and use a coupon for a free appetizer at a restaurant downtown before coming home and taking in some shuteye before getting up really early Wednesday morning. I really want to go out because it's My Last Night Of Freedom, and I'll be out and about anyway after I throw all my shit into storage.
But I realize that that I don't have a whole lot of time to clean up if I plan on doing all those things. After coming home from the movie I'll have probably an hour, maybe 90 minutes, to take up all the stuff I need to stash in my storage bin before the place closes at 9. And that doesn't take into account the phone call I have to make tomorrow to Mother, or the fact that I need to gas up both cars on Double Discount Tuesday, or that both my medications and the long underwear I ordered are now ready for pick-up.
So I go from having all the time in the world to having no time. Well, unless I decide not to go to the movie or the stripclub or the restaurant. But that would be no fun, and that'd also be a concession that I have to knuckle under my parents' thumbs, and I don't want to do that. Therefore I don't know what to do. I should do something. But if that's the case, why am I still writing this?
Monday, January 5, 2015
Mental Note: iTunes Anniversary; Am I The Only One Who Isn't Annoyed That U2 Gave Me Their Latest Album?
Had iTunes. Had it uninstalled because it wasn't updating correctly. Tried to reinstall it using directions I saw online, but it didn't work. So I just, uh, adapted. I went without. It would be better if I could listen to my music whenever I wanted, but hey, it wasn't enough of a priority for me to fix it once this initial shot didn't pan out. I'm passive like that. I'm Pisces.
Last week I reinstalled it when ... uh, I forget. Guess I was prompted to do it when I wanted to look at or listen to something. And, well, it worked. So I'm listening right now, as we speak.
And for the record, according to the latest "Last Played" listing -- "Why Should I Cry For You?" by Sting (hey, don't judge, he ain't that bad) -- I last used iTunes, either on this laptop of my iPod, December 6, 2013 at 12:20 a.m. So, discounting time, it has been a day short of 13 months since I last listened to iTunes through either of those two devices. I totally skipped 2014. Think that's kind of neat, for some reason. Was able to live without it for that long.
Caveat: I have an iPhone, and I have used iTunes on that device when Apple and U2 downloaded the latter's latest album, Songs of Innocence. Wonder if I can transfer or copy my entire library on this lap onto my smartphone. That'd be cool.
---
Oh, speaking of U2's latest album ... I had been meaning to blog about it, but it kept slipping my mind. But now that I thought of noting the resumption of my use of iTunes, I might as well spend time talking about the album. I don't think Songs of Innocence is their best record, not by a longshot. (In my opinion it goes Achtung Baby, then How To Dismantle an Atomic Bomb, the latter seeming to lose support as the years go on; it's a damn good record.) But I can see reviewers liking its blast-from-the-past aesthetic. The first five songs are kind of slow, but once you flip the vinyl to Side 2 with "Volcano," they whip up enough energy and lyrical dexterity to show that those old farts have still got it. The righteous "Raised By Wolves" is the best song, probably followed by "Sleep Like a Baby Tonight," where the band is being atypically sarcastic.
I don't mind getting it for free, and I don't plan on deleting it from my iPhone. I haven't played it in some weeks, but I think I'll do it again when I'm bored and want to listen to something in a pinch. Besides, like I said, I'm passive; if it's there, I might play it, otherwise I won't touch it. Who's it gonna hurt either way, you know?
Last week I reinstalled it when ... uh, I forget. Guess I was prompted to do it when I wanted to look at or listen to something. And, well, it worked. So I'm listening right now, as we speak.
And for the record, according to the latest "Last Played" listing -- "Why Should I Cry For You?" by Sting (hey, don't judge, he ain't that bad) -- I last used iTunes, either on this laptop of my iPod, December 6, 2013 at 12:20 a.m. So, discounting time, it has been a day short of 13 months since I last listened to iTunes through either of those two devices. I totally skipped 2014. Think that's kind of neat, for some reason. Was able to live without it for that long.
Caveat: I have an iPhone, and I have used iTunes on that device when Apple and U2 downloaded the latter's latest album, Songs of Innocence. Wonder if I can transfer or copy my entire library on this lap onto my smartphone. That'd be cool.
---
Oh, speaking of U2's latest album ... I had been meaning to blog about it, but it kept slipping my mind. But now that I thought of noting the resumption of my use of iTunes, I might as well spend time talking about the album. I don't think Songs of Innocence is their best record, not by a longshot. (In my opinion it goes Achtung Baby, then How To Dismantle an Atomic Bomb, the latter seeming to lose support as the years go on; it's a damn good record.) But I can see reviewers liking its blast-from-the-past aesthetic. The first five songs are kind of slow, but once you flip the vinyl to Side 2 with "Volcano," they whip up enough energy and lyrical dexterity to show that those old farts have still got it. The righteous "Raised By Wolves" is the best song, probably followed by "Sleep Like a Baby Tonight," where the band is being atypically sarcastic.
I don't mind getting it for free, and I don't plan on deleting it from my iPhone. I haven't played it in some weeks, but I think I'll do it again when I'm bored and want to listen to something in a pinch. Besides, like I said, I'm passive; if it's there, I might play it, otherwise I won't touch it. Who's it gonna hurt either way, you know?
Sad, Thus Resentful
So my folks come home soon. My weekend, which should have been stress-free, has instead been focused, or inundated, or hampered, by preparing for my parents' return.
For example, I would have been able to stay home all weekend and finally get around to reading these papers and magazines. But I've had to clean and clean and clean, and worry and worry and worry, and so I haven't been able to drill down as deeply as I could have.
I had ***e*, my ATF, come over and clean the house because I just don't know how, I don't fucking know how. Had to drive down to grab her, which was a pain-in-the-ass (the Check Engine light on my car came on again; I might have to bring the fucking thing back in, and I might not even be able to use it for work in the morning ... another thing I have to worry about), but the house has to be at a respectable state for my folks.
My evening I had to myself. But I ate some things I stored in the fridge, caught up on some laundry, and ... honestly, I felt sorry for myself. I hated this abrupt change that's about to happen, and the way I usually deal with these things is to close my eyes and try to sleep.
I also cope by running away and doing stuff. So after I took a short nap, then decided to eat at My Favorite Late-Night Italian Place, where I am writing this right now, so I could eat a pizza. That's going to wreck my digestive system come morning, but I don't care. My parents are coming home. I've been here 90 minutes with the intention of going through this bag of papers by my side. Instead, I've been catching up on Mafia Wars and seeing the tribute to Stuart Scott on TV.
Should I have been concentrating on the papers instead? Yes. But I really hate that I have to concentrate on these papers. Once again, who fucking cares that I have bags of papers and magazines? And I guess I just refused to make headway. I'll just throw these bags back into storage, hide this stuff as an act of martyrdom.
Guess I'll go home now. Have to work in the morning. Besides, they're closing any minute now.
For example, I would have been able to stay home all weekend and finally get around to reading these papers and magazines. But I've had to clean and clean and clean, and worry and worry and worry, and so I haven't been able to drill down as deeply as I could have.
I had ***e*, my ATF, come over and clean the house because I just don't know how, I don't fucking know how. Had to drive down to grab her, which was a pain-in-the-ass (the Check Engine light on my car came on again; I might have to bring the fucking thing back in, and I might not even be able to use it for work in the morning ... another thing I have to worry about), but the house has to be at a respectable state for my folks.
My evening I had to myself. But I ate some things I stored in the fridge, caught up on some laundry, and ... honestly, I felt sorry for myself. I hated this abrupt change that's about to happen, and the way I usually deal with these things is to close my eyes and try to sleep.
I also cope by running away and doing stuff. So after I took a short nap, then decided to eat at My Favorite Late-Night Italian Place, where I am writing this right now, so I could eat a pizza. That's going to wreck my digestive system come morning, but I don't care. My parents are coming home. I've been here 90 minutes with the intention of going through this bag of papers by my side. Instead, I've been catching up on Mafia Wars and seeing the tribute to Stuart Scott on TV.
Should I have been concentrating on the papers instead? Yes. But I really hate that I have to concentrate on these papers. Once again, who fucking cares that I have bags of papers and magazines? And I guess I just refused to make headway. I'll just throw these bags back into storage, hide this stuff as an act of martyrdom.
Guess I'll go home now. Have to work in the morning. Besides, they're closing any minute now.
Sunday, January 4, 2015
His New Favorite
It is clear to me now that my boss favors the other temp, the male temp of The Two, over me.
Why? How? On Friday, before leaving for the day and weekend, he told me what I needed to do next for our project. And, in no uncertain terms, he wanted to get this done Monday, so he wanted me to apply myself. The implication was obvious: He didn't think I was applying myself before.
Have I not? I'll say that I was busting my ass back in the fall, making sure all the other temps knew what the hell they were doing, answering all their questions and stressing over whether or not they're going to screw it up. I was applying myself then -- so much so that I stayed after I should have during the work day. And it was routine that I would have to stay 15, 30, 45, even 60 minutes before I was done. So, to make up for it, I have been cutting out sooner in recent days. OK, weeks. I think I'm owed, frankly. And besides, it's not as if other people don't do it. Of course they do.
So yes, I decided I think I could take it easy. No job is worth overworking yourself for. Unfortunately, I think the male of The Two does overwork himself -- and I think, once again, my boss likes it. Now, I guess he would have to hot-foot it, seeing as how they're working right next to each other. But I think that my boss cottons to his overreactive, quasi-paranoid way he goes about his business. This temp still has this nasty way of being curt with people, including my boss, but I think my boss likes that too. Shows initiative. (Oh, and the other workers love him, too.) And I can see in his eyes that this guy is being sculpted in his image, not like how I was when I was trained by the guy who my boss was forced to let go.
The conclusion: He prefers him over me. And if he had his druthers, he would cut me loose as soon as he only needs one. Come to think of it, he could still do that, anytime. The only things I have going for me are that the male of The Two doesn't know all the things I know, and I am pretty sure this temp hates talking to people. That helps for me down the line, like next season. I doubt he'll want to train people next year, and if he has to do customer service, forget it. I hate doing it, but I have done it, and if it means having this job again, I'll do it.
Now, let's see how long I get to keep this job.
Why? How? On Friday, before leaving for the day and weekend, he told me what I needed to do next for our project. And, in no uncertain terms, he wanted to get this done Monday, so he wanted me to apply myself. The implication was obvious: He didn't think I was applying myself before.
Have I not? I'll say that I was busting my ass back in the fall, making sure all the other temps knew what the hell they were doing, answering all their questions and stressing over whether or not they're going to screw it up. I was applying myself then -- so much so that I stayed after I should have during the work day. And it was routine that I would have to stay 15, 30, 45, even 60 minutes before I was done. So, to make up for it, I have been cutting out sooner in recent days. OK, weeks. I think I'm owed, frankly. And besides, it's not as if other people don't do it. Of course they do.
So yes, I decided I think I could take it easy. No job is worth overworking yourself for. Unfortunately, I think the male of The Two does overwork himself -- and I think, once again, my boss likes it. Now, I guess he would have to hot-foot it, seeing as how they're working right next to each other. But I think that my boss cottons to his overreactive, quasi-paranoid way he goes about his business. This temp still has this nasty way of being curt with people, including my boss, but I think my boss likes that too. Shows initiative. (Oh, and the other workers love him, too.) And I can see in his eyes that this guy is being sculpted in his image, not like how I was when I was trained by the guy who my boss was forced to let go.
The conclusion: He prefers him over me. And if he had his druthers, he would cut me loose as soon as he only needs one. Come to think of it, he could still do that, anytime. The only things I have going for me are that the male of The Two doesn't know all the things I know, and I am pretty sure this temp hates talking to people. That helps for me down the line, like next season. I doubt he'll want to train people next year, and if he has to do customer service, forget it. I hate doing it, but I have done it, and if it means having this job again, I'll do it.
Now, let's see how long I get to keep this job.
Saturday, January 3, 2015
Can I Regret Something?
OK, for New Year's Eve, I was going to follow up a hastily arranged session with my psychologist by going to this place close to work. I suddenly got obsessed with this place, a restaurant I ate at a year ago. It was lauded by City Pages, and that was enough for me to go there again, and on the last day of 2014, as a salute to myself for getting through another year alive. And I made sure to get there before 6; checked their website and that's the time their Happy Hour ends.
I was mad at myself when I took a right when I should have taken a left, but I parked across the street at around 5:25. (Helped that I got to see my shrink about a half-hour earlier than usual.) But my heart sank when I looked at the window into the restaurant and saw nothing but darkness reflected back at me. Man, I guess I should've asked if they were going to be open New Year's Eve instead of assuming they would be.
So at this point I was at a crossroads. And all I did was look across the street at the coffeeshop, see that was closed, look at the donut shop past this restaurant I wanted to go to and saw that was closed, then looked past that to see a pizza place that was open. I've been to this place, this year as well as last year. It was pretty good, I just didn't figure to eat there for New Year's Eve because I've already eaten there once before in the calendar year. But there was no where else as far as my eye could see that was open, and dammit, it's New Year's Eve! So I went in there. Thank goodness they were open till 9; unfortunately their Happy Hour ended at 5. No matter; I sat down and ordered.
And as soon as I sat down I regretted it. It was December 31, 2014, the expiration date of many of the coupons of the fast food places I had cut and put into my back pocket, precisely for times like this. I guess I rationalized it by saying I didn't want to just eat fast food for New Year's Eve, but that was kind of weak. Then I realized that there was another restaurant about a mile down the cross-street that I also had wanted to go to. It too had a recommendation on City Pages, or at least a dish. Why didn't I eat there instead of a place I didn't even think about going to that night? I excused that regret away by saying that if that restaurant was closed as well, well, I would have nowhere to go to eat. Well, I did have the fast food coupons, but I was able not to think about that.
So I sat and drank a good beer and ate a pretty good personal pan pizza, then paid about $20 for the whole shebang. And then I really regretted it because this restaurant a mile down the cross-street sells this recommended dish for $7.50, less than half. Final insult to injury came when I traveled home down the cross-street and saw that this other place indeed was open on New Year's Eve.
Why did I panic? Why did I settle for the next thing I saw with my open eyes? Why couldn't I be patient with myself and, maybe, decide to eat at home? At the very least I would have either thought of or drove across a place I would have wanted to eat instead. Again, the pizza was good, and the service was good, and the girl serving me was cute. But if I stepped back and thought, there were some other places where I would have preferred to have gone instead, and I didn't because I panicked. And so I wasted all these coupons in my back pocket and wasted a prime opportunity to go to a place I kind of wanted to go to for a while.
---
I did have time, however -- or maybe I am rationalizing this too -- to eat this place Friday evening. I was going to go the University of Minnesota men's hockey game, but I decided to call the auto body shop to see if they still were working on my car. Well, they weren't -- not because they were done, but because the parts they sent were wrong, and the replacement part the guy found online was going to cost me $550. I love my car, but not enough to replace weatherstripping for that amount. So it was better for me to just go to the auto body shop to pick up my car.
And because of that I had my early evening free ... well, besides from all that "cleaning up in anticipation of my parents coming home" stuff, but fuck that. So I decided to make up for the mistake I made Wednesday and eat at this ... let's just call it an ethnic restaurant on Friday. What I didn't expect was that there wouldn't be any booths for this solitary guy to eat alone without anyone seeing me. The food was good (the recommended dish was OK, I preferred the soup and the indigenous soft drink) and the server was nice and cute, but ... I guess I don't regret going Wednesday now as much as I did after I sat down at the pizza place. Oh, and the final bill plus tip came out to $12.75 -- not double, but a substantial savings, which is something I can't disregard.
One other plus: The Gopher men's hockey team lost at home. Missed a defeat. That's a good thing. Hey, maybe I don't regret as much as I initially thought!
I was mad at myself when I took a right when I should have taken a left, but I parked across the street at around 5:25. (Helped that I got to see my shrink about a half-hour earlier than usual.) But my heart sank when I looked at the window into the restaurant and saw nothing but darkness reflected back at me. Man, I guess I should've asked if they were going to be open New Year's Eve instead of assuming they would be.
So at this point I was at a crossroads. And all I did was look across the street at the coffeeshop, see that was closed, look at the donut shop past this restaurant I wanted to go to and saw that was closed, then looked past that to see a pizza place that was open. I've been to this place, this year as well as last year. It was pretty good, I just didn't figure to eat there for New Year's Eve because I've already eaten there once before in the calendar year. But there was no where else as far as my eye could see that was open, and dammit, it's New Year's Eve! So I went in there. Thank goodness they were open till 9; unfortunately their Happy Hour ended at 5. No matter; I sat down and ordered.
And as soon as I sat down I regretted it. It was December 31, 2014, the expiration date of many of the coupons of the fast food places I had cut and put into my back pocket, precisely for times like this. I guess I rationalized it by saying I didn't want to just eat fast food for New Year's Eve, but that was kind of weak. Then I realized that there was another restaurant about a mile down the cross-street that I also had wanted to go to. It too had a recommendation on City Pages, or at least a dish. Why didn't I eat there instead of a place I didn't even think about going to that night? I excused that regret away by saying that if that restaurant was closed as well, well, I would have nowhere to go to eat. Well, I did have the fast food coupons, but I was able not to think about that.
So I sat and drank a good beer and ate a pretty good personal pan pizza, then paid about $20 for the whole shebang. And then I really regretted it because this restaurant a mile down the cross-street sells this recommended dish for $7.50, less than half. Final insult to injury came when I traveled home down the cross-street and saw that this other place indeed was open on New Year's Eve.
Why did I panic? Why did I settle for the next thing I saw with my open eyes? Why couldn't I be patient with myself and, maybe, decide to eat at home? At the very least I would have either thought of or drove across a place I would have wanted to eat instead. Again, the pizza was good, and the service was good, and the girl serving me was cute. But if I stepped back and thought, there were some other places where I would have preferred to have gone instead, and I didn't because I panicked. And so I wasted all these coupons in my back pocket and wasted a prime opportunity to go to a place I kind of wanted to go to for a while.
---
I did have time, however -- or maybe I am rationalizing this too -- to eat this place Friday evening. I was going to go the University of Minnesota men's hockey game, but I decided to call the auto body shop to see if they still were working on my car. Well, they weren't -- not because they were done, but because the parts they sent were wrong, and the replacement part the guy found online was going to cost me $550. I love my car, but not enough to replace weatherstripping for that amount. So it was better for me to just go to the auto body shop to pick up my car.
And because of that I had my early evening free ... well, besides from all that "cleaning up in anticipation of my parents coming home" stuff, but fuck that. So I decided to make up for the mistake I made Wednesday and eat at this ... let's just call it an ethnic restaurant on Friday. What I didn't expect was that there wouldn't be any booths for this solitary guy to eat alone without anyone seeing me. The food was good (the recommended dish was OK, I preferred the soup and the indigenous soft drink) and the server was nice and cute, but ... I guess I don't regret going Wednesday now as much as I did after I sat down at the pizza place. Oh, and the final bill plus tip came out to $12.75 -- not double, but a substantial savings, which is something I can't disregard.
One other plus: The Gopher men's hockey team lost at home. Missed a defeat. That's a good thing. Hey, maybe I don't regret as much as I initially thought!
Friday, January 2, 2015
My Feeble Rebellion
I still resent my parents blindsiding me by coming home. One of the things they forced me to do is go back to the bedroom I'm in now, which I still consider Grandmother's bedroom. I prefer my sister's bedroom because, frankly, I still consider that my proper bedroom, and also because I like her bed. But I was chased back there. Fuck, they wouldn't have known a thing if they would've just told me they were coming home. ...
Their parting gift to me was my fear that they'll be able to come back at any time without my knowing. That has paralyzed me from letting myself hang out. I haven't thrown my clothes on the dining room floor -- I've thrown them on my sister's bedroom floor. I've been forced to be more careful about where I put the mail. And, most of all, I hadn't moved my pillows and blanket back into my sister's room as soon as they left. I was lazy after I moved my stuff back into Grandmother's bedroom, and since My Fucking Father set up the TV in that room I've found it way too easy to lay in my bed and watch TV. But much of the reason I've stayed is fear.
At least until recently. In the end, I wanted to stick it to my folks, and finally I overcame my inertia and started sleeping in my sister's bedroom. And to be honest, I kind of don't like it there. I had complained that it's way too hot in Grandmother's bedroom, but this time around the temperature's just fine, and in fact my sister's bedroom is a little too cold. Also, the TV that I put in there, the old one I took from downstairs, is still downstairs, and it's kind of boring to be in that bedroom without the ability to lay in that bed and watch TV.
So why am I doing it? To express how pissed off I am at my parents, and how badly I want -- I need -- to disobey them. Sure, they don't know it, although I think they kind of suspect. But I need to do it for me, to think that I will not be controlled by the petty, juvenile edicts of old people just because this is their house and therefore I have to follow their rules even if they're not there.
Of course, I'll be back in Grandmother's room as soon as they come back.
---
Meanwhile I am dreading all the shit I had planned on going through but haven't. All these papers I had grand plans to go through, but I'm not. I have the weekend left; anything that I will keep or haven't gone through I will put back in storage in a sloppy fury.
I bitch that I don't have time, but I kind of do. Could have done stuff this evening. Can do stuff this weekend, and even Monday night. But I know I won't. See, I have been invited by ***e* to this stripper party, and I think I'll go, even though I'll see her when she comes to clean the house -- and me -- Sunday. There's a chance I'll go to the University of Minnesota men's hockey tournament games tomorrow. I might go out to eat while watching Saturday's Wild Card games. I will make it a point to go to My Favorite Stripclub (Cover Division) to see ******a, my ATF there. And Sunday. ...
(sigh) Maybe I should get ready for my parents to come home. But why should I? Why can't I keep all these papers in my room? Why can't I throw all my dirty clothes on the floor? Why can't I sleep wherever the fuck I want? I'm not hurting anybody. You get that, guys? I'M NOT HURTING ANYBODY!!! And so, despite all the hell I might catch when they come home, I'm going to act, and live, the way I want to, and that's like a goddamn hobo.
And then scurry like hell to hide everything before they return. 'Cause I'm a feeble rebel, you see.
Their parting gift to me was my fear that they'll be able to come back at any time without my knowing. That has paralyzed me from letting myself hang out. I haven't thrown my clothes on the dining room floor -- I've thrown them on my sister's bedroom floor. I've been forced to be more careful about where I put the mail. And, most of all, I hadn't moved my pillows and blanket back into my sister's room as soon as they left. I was lazy after I moved my stuff back into Grandmother's bedroom, and since My Fucking Father set up the TV in that room I've found it way too easy to lay in my bed and watch TV. But much of the reason I've stayed is fear.
At least until recently. In the end, I wanted to stick it to my folks, and finally I overcame my inertia and started sleeping in my sister's bedroom. And to be honest, I kind of don't like it there. I had complained that it's way too hot in Grandmother's bedroom, but this time around the temperature's just fine, and in fact my sister's bedroom is a little too cold. Also, the TV that I put in there, the old one I took from downstairs, is still downstairs, and it's kind of boring to be in that bedroom without the ability to lay in that bed and watch TV.
So why am I doing it? To express how pissed off I am at my parents, and how badly I want -- I need -- to disobey them. Sure, they don't know it, although I think they kind of suspect. But I need to do it for me, to think that I will not be controlled by the petty, juvenile edicts of old people just because this is their house and therefore I have to follow their rules even if they're not there.
Of course, I'll be back in Grandmother's room as soon as they come back.
---
Meanwhile I am dreading all the shit I had planned on going through but haven't. All these papers I had grand plans to go through, but I'm not. I have the weekend left; anything that I will keep or haven't gone through I will put back in storage in a sloppy fury.
I bitch that I don't have time, but I kind of do. Could have done stuff this evening. Can do stuff this weekend, and even Monday night. But I know I won't. See, I have been invited by ***e* to this stripper party, and I think I'll go, even though I'll see her when she comes to clean the house -- and me -- Sunday. There's a chance I'll go to the University of Minnesota men's hockey tournament games tomorrow. I might go out to eat while watching Saturday's Wild Card games. I will make it a point to go to My Favorite Stripclub (Cover Division) to see ******a, my ATF there. And Sunday. ...
(sigh) Maybe I should get ready for my parents to come home. But why should I? Why can't I keep all these papers in my room? Why can't I throw all my dirty clothes on the floor? Why can't I sleep wherever the fuck I want? I'm not hurting anybody. You get that, guys? I'M NOT HURTING ANYBODY!!! And so, despite all the hell I might catch when they come home, I'm going to act, and live, the way I want to, and that's like a goddamn hobo.
And then scurry like hell to hide everything before they return. 'Cause I'm a feeble rebel, you see.
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