schtooputidy

So, two days at the new job now. Both days: stupid!

The people who have, in the recent past, done the job that I've been hired to do: out on vacation with the first not returning until next Thursday.

The back-up people who could teach me to do my job: out sick.

The forms to get a user logon and e-mail: unavailable, due to stupidity.

Chits to get a key to unlock my office door: have to wait for those.

Facility: untoured.

I spent yesterday being "orientated" along with a new nurse. Most of the talk was about stuff for the new nurse because for me to really learn anything about how to do my job I need to be able to log on to my computer.

We didn't take a tour because it was hot out. Well, duh! It's central California in September. It's always hot out!

Today I sat with a woman and watched her do her job. Sure, she showed me some places in the building and I saw what it's like to rush to finish your reports, but the odds of me ever doing what she does are pretty much nil. I was bored for probably 7 out of the 8 hours today.

(Oh, a good thing about this job, I don't have to take a lunch and I can come in early. That means I can come in at six, eat at my desk, and leave at two. Awesome.)

Tomorrow's not looking to be any better, either. If I'm lucky one certain person will be here tomorrow and I'll be able to get my security training and my keys and my logon and maybe actually start to learn my job.

Oh, well. At least I'm getting paid.

sdraC

A blue folder is being passed around the office. It has a card in it. I think it's safe, although self-centered, to assume that the card is for me.

*sigh*

Last week there was a surprise baby-shower thing for an expectant dad. (The due date is this Saturday, so dad-hood can begin any moment.) That was when it occurred to me that there was a heavy possibility that the people I work with would do that sort of thing to me. (To the best of my memory every other time there was a party for a person leaving the person leaving knew all about it.) Later that afternoon I went to one of the ladies who's always involved with the planning of parties, if not the one who starts them, and kindly asked her not to have a party for me.

"I don't want a party like that," I said. "I don't think I could handle it well."

"Well," she said, "we only just started talking about it. I think I'll be able to put a stop to it. Nothing's really been planned."

I took her word for it. "Thanks," I said.

"I know that it can be uncomfortable being put on the spot," she said.

"Yeah."

"It's not really fun." She paused and sort of looked around at nothing. "How about a lunch out with just a few people?"

"That'd be okay."

"Then we can control who comes."

"It's not so much the who," I said, "but the how many." It was the best I could come up with to explain my phobia/anxiety/panic problem without really explaining anything at all.

And that, to the best of my knowledge, was that. Until I saw the blue folder and how it bypassed my desk. My desk happens to be situated pretty much in the rear center of things, so I think I see, and hear, a lot more than most people think I see, and hear. When it was placed on the desk next to mine I could see that the name crossed out on the staff list was three up from the bottom. Enough of these folders have been passed to me that I know where my name on the list is.

Guess where.

Go on, guess.

Yeah. My name's three up from the bottom.

A card. Okay, cool, I can handle a card. I don't really want a card, but I can handle it.

The thing is, when this office give out a card, it's rarely just a card. It's usually some sort of gift, too.

I hope it's not a gift.

I really don't want a gift.

I know that the card and possible gift are ways to thank me and say I'll be missed. I know this. However, the card and possible gift won't make me feel like my day-in day-out work has been appreciated.

You know what has made me feel like that? It was the times after my move was announced that the judges pulled me aside as I was dropping off my mail or heading back from the drinking fountain and telling me that they noticed how hard I worked and that they were glad that they had someone like me around to keep the paper flowing so they could more easily do their jobs.

Imagine that, people telling me something made me feel appreciated and useful. I especially like that it happened on an individual basis because that meant they wanted to say something, not that they felt/what they thought like they had to because others were saying it or that's the sort of thing one says at farewell parties.

Lunch is supposed to happen in ten minutes.

Me and three others.

Here we go.

Saulutations

Greetings internarts and bhlajers from the work e-mail.

This post, which is planned to be brief but may take a turn for the lengthy, is to let all you all, who care, know that most of my shit was moved up to Cowtown by my parents and myself on Saturday. It now resides in a storage unit off the highway near where my parent’s live. At all of this, I am relived, tired, and a bit annoyed.

FYI: If you believe yourself to be a nerd or a geek with nerd tendencies and the opportunity arises, go and see w00tstock. It’s totally worth the money. You will laugh and laugh and then cry because they just won’t stop and you’re getting tired and then you’ll laugh some more because it’s all so very funny.

Some goals in the coming month:

·       Visit a bank or two and see if I can get pre-approved for a home loan and if so for how much and if for that much what kind of impossible, for me, down payment will I need?

·       Scour the internet to price rentals, in case the loan thing really does turn out to be an impossible dream.

·       Check out that mining town because it’s closer-ish to new work, even if it will make being hermit easier.

·       Occasionally pimp my brother’s webcomic. Come on, people, it’s a silent strip about a robot trying to live the American dream. What’s not to like? (Other than the fact that he only updates once a week. Really, it should be two days a week. Amiright?)

·       Get and activate a cell phone so I have fairly permanent phone number.

·       Seriously look into getting a personal domain and move this blurg over.

·       Other stuff that I don’t want to mention here.

Something I realized while packing my shit was that when the end time comes and ekeltristy goes away, most of my shit will be totally useless.

Regularish blurging will hopefully commence next week.

A Post on Nothing and Stuff

For ten glorious minutes the part of the server that controls WebSense was down and I could open up sites that I haven't been able to open for a while, including Blogger.

The question, now, though, is will blogger be able to post this? Will it work after WebSense has come back up? I don't know, but I'm willing to try.

For the most part, I spent those ten minutes clearing my e-mail out. Why -- oh why! -- do Amazon and Barnes and Noble insist on sending me notifications on things that are new or that I might enjoy? I always, ALWAYS, try to opt out of getting notifications, and yet there was my e-mail full up with stuff I didn't care about. So much was there that I didn't get to finish reading actual e-mails, there were four or so left to read, let alone reply to any of them.

For the record, from my e-mail:
My brother's webcomic is Made in USA. The first strip is here. As his biggest fan I would be remiss not to point everyone toward it. Also, marvel at the picture he uses to as for donations. HI-larious.
I am very sorry that the international cuisine night didn't work out. In a few week's I'll always be available for such a thing.
I can no longer see the comments people write. The browser just times out like it does when I try to get into the back door at Gmail.
Blogger was visited to check out the new thing and to clear the spam comments out of old(er) posts.
Dark Skies is going to be released on DVD in January. No, please don't fight over who's going to get it for me for my birthday. I'll have bought it long before then. Sorry to disappoint each and every one of you.
There are new lights in the parents' house. The place is starting to look downright fancy.

Just to let you all know, not being able to blog, for me, was like losing one of my baby toes. Sure, it's annoying, but I got used to it soon enough. I mean, it's not like I really use that tiny little bugger for walking.

Not being able to get to my personal e-mail is like losing all ten of my toes. Yeah, I'll learn to walk pretty well, but I'm never going to be comfortable doing it.

(A total aside, but... The world that the Guardians of the Galaxy live on, where the Green Lantern Corps comes from, is called Oa, which is pronounced "oh-ah"; my questions is: since the Guardians are from Oa they are Oan, how is that word pronounced? Are they "oh-ah-en"? "Oh-an"? "Own"? I'm just not sure.)

I've missed blogging, though. It was a way of doing something. I don't know what, exactly, but it was a way. There have been many days where I wanted to post about the bullshit here at work or the impending move or the... other... stuff in my life. And then there are the posts I want to write about the weirdness that is fan fiction; I really want to get into the structures of crossovers, that I see.

Oh, did I mention that furloughs are back? They are. I got one full paycheck, so far this year, for July, then they decided to fire everyone three days a week again. At least this time I knew what to expect and I don't feel like I have to cut anything back since that one month with a full paycheck wasn't enough time to lead me back to my pre-furlough life of luxury and excess. (Plus, Websense blocks Amazon, so I couldn't blow too much money on DVDs and CDs and books and such.) Let me tell you, it's really fun being a scapegoat. I hope the economy of California never quite recovers and I'm a scapegoat for the rest of my life because I like knowing that people don't want to think critically and realize that maybe, just maybe, there are some spending/taxing issues the state's fucked up that has nothing to do with its employees and maybe fixing those would help solve some problems. You know, maybe.

Well, that's it for now. Other than the PS I wrote first, this'll be the last thing you read, if it posts, fingers crossed, knock wood, belch the alphabet.

Be well, peoples.

PS You all went and saw Scott Pilgrim vs. The World, right? If not then you have no right to complain about next summers crappy bunch of movies. You could have and should have supported something wonderful and unique and fun and joyous so that more of its ilk would be made, but you didn't and they won't. For shame.