Simpleton Wakes Up!
I am a simpleton. I am bleary-eyed, watered-down, distracted by dust motes. I dispel the rumor of myself thus - coffee addiction. Two cups in the morning, and my headlights could pierce the moon.
What to say, moon? The job sitch is heating up on many fronts, so much so that I can actually have some small measure of choice about where I end up possibly. The choices themselves are not fantastic, life-altering "this is the time in Steve's life when..." choices, but they will pay the bills and not drive me into a sick frenzy of self-doubt by 9am on a typical workday. Stay tuned, kidlets.
During an open-mic night at Pegasus Pizza and Pasta this past Wednesday, I watched a fantastic comedian: Dean Evans, formerly out of Salt Lake City of all places. Great political humor, a wonderfully caustic attitude that didn't rely on pussy jokes and swearing to get his shtick across, and enormous long red dreads to boot. Imagine a rastafarian elf with a sharp tongue and bedrock stage presence and you're there. (I'm sure he's sick as hell at being described as an elf, or leprechaun or whatever, but if da foo sh*ts, then...)
What else? Reno 911. Hilarious. Finally got around to watching it.
What else, else? Battling all week against the empty feeling that being unemployed brings. That shiv to the ribs sadness that makes everything you believe you are start fading out. I start reliving every bad choice I ever made on the buses carting me from the 'burbs into Seattle and then blank out on the bus back home, head slumped against the window.
I was sitting in the back of the 545 last night, thinking of...what? The utilitarian aluminum beams that supported the bus, the little vinyl straps that hang down in between the seats for standing passengers, and the way the bus humped and jumped along the road the way buses always do. Just the way we spend so much time in boxed up environments. Bus to office to bus to apartment, with small trips to cafes or breakrooms or delis in between. No wonder no one thinks straight anymore.
But at the same time, I'm enjoying what little time and freedom I have away from it by being unemployed. I like the variety of going on interviews, the people you meet are usually characters fit for a story, I like not knowing how each day will end up. Granted, the flip side of this is mortal despair, crushing guilt and a rootless sick feeling that I'm worthless, but hey, when that's not going on, it's not a bad gig.
The real deal is, of course, how to define yourself when nothing around you seems like it fits. And this is the backstory. For all the moments this last week that I've felt like things weren't working out, there are also moments where I realize that what I'm going after by and large is a joke anyways. Perhaps that's just protective rationalization over the gaping fact that if I don't have a degree and career path outlined perfectly, that all I can hope for is to align my skills with someone else's, which is basically whorish slavery. Called "teambuilding" if it's your dream that's being supported by people like me.
Anyway, more later. I'm afraid I'll get bumped now that it's 9am and the agencies are wont to call me up.
What to say, moon? The job sitch is heating up on many fronts, so much so that I can actually have some small measure of choice about where I end up possibly. The choices themselves are not fantastic, life-altering "this is the time in Steve's life when..." choices, but they will pay the bills and not drive me into a sick frenzy of self-doubt by 9am on a typical workday. Stay tuned, kidlets.
During an open-mic night at Pegasus Pizza and Pasta this past Wednesday, I watched a fantastic comedian: Dean Evans, formerly out of Salt Lake City of all places. Great political humor, a wonderfully caustic attitude that didn't rely on pussy jokes and swearing to get his shtick across, and enormous long red dreads to boot. Imagine a rastafarian elf with a sharp tongue and bedrock stage presence and you're there. (I'm sure he's sick as hell at being described as an elf, or leprechaun or whatever, but if da foo sh*ts, then...)
What else? Reno 911. Hilarious. Finally got around to watching it.
What else, else? Battling all week against the empty feeling that being unemployed brings. That shiv to the ribs sadness that makes everything you believe you are start fading out. I start reliving every bad choice I ever made on the buses carting me from the 'burbs into Seattle and then blank out on the bus back home, head slumped against the window.
I was sitting in the back of the 545 last night, thinking of...what? The utilitarian aluminum beams that supported the bus, the little vinyl straps that hang down in between the seats for standing passengers, and the way the bus humped and jumped along the road the way buses always do. Just the way we spend so much time in boxed up environments. Bus to office to bus to apartment, with small trips to cafes or breakrooms or delis in between. No wonder no one thinks straight anymore.
But at the same time, I'm enjoying what little time and freedom I have away from it by being unemployed. I like the variety of going on interviews, the people you meet are usually characters fit for a story, I like not knowing how each day will end up. Granted, the flip side of this is mortal despair, crushing guilt and a rootless sick feeling that I'm worthless, but hey, when that's not going on, it's not a bad gig.
The real deal is, of course, how to define yourself when nothing around you seems like it fits. And this is the backstory. For all the moments this last week that I've felt like things weren't working out, there are also moments where I realize that what I'm going after by and large is a joke anyways. Perhaps that's just protective rationalization over the gaping fact that if I don't have a degree and career path outlined perfectly, that all I can hope for is to align my skills with someone else's, which is basically whorish slavery. Called "teambuilding" if it's your dream that's being supported by people like me.
Anyway, more later. I'm afraid I'll get bumped now that it's 9am and the agencies are wont to call me up.
posted by Stefush at 8:47 AM
1 Comments:
Perhaps that's just protective rationalization over the gaping fact that if I don't have a degree and career path outlined perfectly, that all I can hope for is to align my skills with someone else's, which is basically whorish slavery. Called "teambuilding" if it's your dream that's being supported by people like me.
Excellent writing!
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