The second week of October I started a new job, sort of. I have the same title. The same pay. The same lack of respect. I'm not scheduling nurses anymore, though. I'm scheduling inmates for dental appointments. Inmates can't come to me and bitch about why they're scheduled when. They can't make bizarre demands. (No, I can't just schedule you for four days this week. You have to check with your supervisor.)
The problem (and I always have a problem since I, apparently don't know how to be happy) is that I don't use my brain much. Scheduling the nurses, I was constantly solving minor and, too often, major problems. I was always creating alternate plans. When I presented a supervisor of the director of nursing with an idea I had to think though what I was saying to try to convince them that I was right. My job now is just me inputting information into the computer, scheduling guys to see my doctor, and double checking what I just did. It's boring and thoughtless.
It is less stressful, though.
Of course, I'm not really happy and I'm stuck in a small room that has no windows with a lady who's tired of all the bullshit she's had to put up with for the last four year but tries to put a positive spin on things and a lady who just hates her job and her life and is willing to share loudly and in detail. Our boss sticks her nose into everything, and she's nice and all, but she doesn't really know what she's talking about because she doesn't do the work on a daily basis. Sure, she had the basic training and looks at the program every day, but since she doesn't do the work she doesn't know or understand all the details. (I don't either, since I've only been there for four weeks, but I'm learning quickly because I spend most of my eight hour days doing the work.) I ran into this problem when I worked entering data up in North Bay. I don't expect the boss to know I the details of the work I'm doing, but I like it a lot better when the boss trusts his or her subordinates.
Oh, and to top all this off I'm still fucking living with my parents. In a room where the shelf space is taken up with other peoples' crap. And it's been over a year. [sarcasm]Joy![/sarcasm]
Why am I still living with my parents if I don't like it? Well, it all started about eleven-or-twelve-or-thirteen months ago when I decided that I hated the job I was in and had to get out ASAP. That's when my plan fell apart. My original plan was to stay with my parent no longer than the new year. But when I started looking for a new job I thought it logical to not get stuck with a lease when it was possible I'd be working somewhere an hour or more away. (I don't like to drive thirty minutes, why would I drive an hour?) I figured that I'd throw out applications, get a few interviews, and be moved along no later than June. Come June, no fucking interviews. I was still sending out applications, though, to jobs that would be a promotion and jobs at my current level, so by October, for sure!
During the summer I had one interview. It was hundreds of miles to the South and near-ish to the coast. It was a long interview. A good interview. I knew when I left, though, that I wasn't going to get it. They knew that I wanted to promote and this was a job at my current classification level in a city hundreds of miles from my family and the friends they assumed I had. In the end I didn't get it.
A month later, I interviewed, at my current level, for a secretary position for an AW where I work. About six weeks after that, I interviewed for another position at my current level where I work. Eventually, after another week I get offered the first position, I was their second choice, but would rather have the second one I interviewed for. I talked it over with some people and decided the second one was a better choice for me and made sure I was still in the running before declining the first. (I hope this is clear.) When I was finally, officially, offered the second position, I started pulling listings and looking for a clean, well lighted place of my own.
Then, the week before I started, I was asked to an interview up in Cowcity for a promotion. (Last week, which was 3 weeks after the interview, the guy said they still hadn't decided. I'm afraid that he's just a coward and won't tell me that I'm forever trapped where I am.) With the chance of a promotion to a city 100ish miles away, as the car drives, I really shouldn't be thinking of getting myself trapped into a lease. Two weeks after that interview I interviewed up at a prison in Far North Coast. Also for a promotion. (I didn't get that job, but they said that I was would be really good at doing it and should apply for the position again, somewhere else. Of course, there are only 35 positions like that in the whole fucking state and too many of them are in places that I ain't gonna move to.) This week I went and took a test in Cowcity for a different classification. It would be a little less money, but it would get in away from lay-offs and into a place where they do good work and I could show that I work hard and well and they should FUCKING promote me to a higher level.
Hence, I'm stuck in a room where there's a 10-year old computer my pop still uses to load his iPod with. (He won't sync it with his newer computer for some dumb-ass paranoid reason.) A room that has two giant, probably broken, speaker sitting on a half file cabinet. A room with piles of empty boxes because you just never know. A room where I have books and movies in boxes on the floor because the shelves are all taken up. A room that I am continuously told is "my room," but I can't use most of it.
And yet I haven't looked at any kind of place to move, locally, because there's some bullshit optimism in me that keeps telling me that I'll be out of here soon and on to somewhere different, maybe even better.
And so I wallow in myself and I don't do anything. I'm just so very tired, you know? Tired of trying. Tired of hoping. Tired of working. Tired of thinking. Tired. And not in that funny Madeline Kahn way, either.
Showing posts with label tired. Show all posts
Showing posts with label tired. Show all posts
Thursday, November 17, 2011
Tuesday, June 03, 2008
Sleep
Dear Homeless Guy,
I understand that you need somewhere relatively safe to sleep and although I'd rather it not be the alley thing between my building and the one to the west, I get why your there. It blocks any wind there may be and you can walk way back away from the street so you can't be seen and I imagine that the ivy there is much softer than the stoops you usually sleep on.
This morning, though, you felt the need to yell at your dog. At 5:15. The thing is that at 5:15 AM I'm still asleep and I hope to stay asleep until my alarm blares about ninety minutes later. And even though I didn't climb out of bed during those last ninety minutes, the drowsing that occurred wasn't nearly as restful as the sleep I'd normally have gotten.
So, please, next time you sleep in the alley thing, tie something around your dog’s neck so you can pull him toward you if he runs off. I know that finding an actual leash is unlikely, but with all the construction on the freeway, I'm sure you could find some length of rope that'd work, in a makeshift kind of way. I know I'd appreciate it and I'm pretty sure all my neighbors would too.
Sincerely,
ticknart
I understand that you need somewhere relatively safe to sleep and although I'd rather it not be the alley thing between my building and the one to the west, I get why your there. It blocks any wind there may be and you can walk way back away from the street so you can't be seen and I imagine that the ivy there is much softer than the stoops you usually sleep on.
This morning, though, you felt the need to yell at your dog. At 5:15. The thing is that at 5:15 AM I'm still asleep and I hope to stay asleep until my alarm blares about ninety minutes later. And even though I didn't climb out of bed during those last ninety minutes, the drowsing that occurred wasn't nearly as restful as the sleep I'd normally have gotten.
So, please, next time you sleep in the alley thing, tie something around your dog’s neck so you can pull him toward you if he runs off. I know that finding an actual leash is unlikely, but with all the construction on the freeway, I'm sure you could find some length of rope that'd work, in a makeshift kind of way. I know I'd appreciate it and I'm pretty sure all my neighbors would too.
Sincerely,
ticknart
Monday, January 29, 2007
Pleeeeeeeease...
On Friday I printed twenty copies of the State Application, which I have to include with each inquiry I send back with the "Yes" box checked. I forgot to take them back to my apartment with me because I stopped taking my bag with me to work and I just don't think of grabbing anything except myPod on my way out. That means I couldn't send them off on Saturday, like I wanted to.
So, on Saturday I checked the "Yes" box and signed my name and filled out envelopes and put on a stamp for all the inquiries I got last week, but I couldn't send them out. I had to do it today. There were nineteen of them.
The twentieth was sent to the prison where my aunt and two uncles work for a temporary position. I didn't get a notice from there because I marked that I only wanted to be notified about permanent positions. This temporary position is 24 months long. I figured that 24 months is pretty damn close to permanent, especially since I haven't even been here for 18 months and I'm ready to move on.
As I sat downstairs in the lobby signing and dating applications and licking envelopes, I figured out that I've use about seventy stamps to respond to these inquiries. I counted the roll that I've been using, there are only fifty-two stamps out of a hundred left on it and only one stamp from it has been used on a non-job inquiry related envelope. I've used on sheet of storybook character stamps, which holds sixteen stamps, and a few more off another sheet.
That is a lot of applications sent out since I started getting them the second week of January. A I still haven't gotten one serious call for an interview. (I did get a call from some place at 4:30 one Thursday afternoon asking me if I could go to Cowcity the next morning for an interview at 8:00 AM, but I would have to clear my entire day because they were going to schedule all the interviews at 8:00 and just go from there, so when I got called would be my turn. I told them no.)
Damn, I'm just so tired.
So, on Saturday I checked the "Yes" box and signed my name and filled out envelopes and put on a stamp for all the inquiries I got last week, but I couldn't send them out. I had to do it today. There were nineteen of them.
The twentieth was sent to the prison where my aunt and two uncles work for a temporary position. I didn't get a notice from there because I marked that I only wanted to be notified about permanent positions. This temporary position is 24 months long. I figured that 24 months is pretty damn close to permanent, especially since I haven't even been here for 18 months and I'm ready to move on.
As I sat downstairs in the lobby signing and dating applications and licking envelopes, I figured out that I've use about seventy stamps to respond to these inquiries. I counted the roll that I've been using, there are only fifty-two stamps out of a hundred left on it and only one stamp from it has been used on a non-job inquiry related envelope. I've used on sheet of storybook character stamps, which holds sixteen stamps, and a few more off another sheet.
That is a lot of applications sent out since I started getting them the second week of January. A I still haven't gotten one serious call for an interview. (I did get a call from some place at 4:30 one Thursday afternoon asking me if I could go to Cowcity the next morning for an interview at 8:00 AM, but I would have to clear my entire day because they were going to schedule all the interviews at 8:00 and just go from there, so when I got called would be my turn. I told them no.)
Damn, I'm just so tired.
Friday, January 26, 2007
Today Was Another Day
I have yet to do any work today. I've been here for almost two hours. I really don't want to do anything. I mean, why bother. If I do the work that I have now, I'll be finished by two, at the latest. By then, I'll be given more work that if I start doing I'll get a large portion finished by the time I leave this evening, which means Monday morning, I'll have less to do then and everyone will be here and take it upon themselves to find me work to do that I normally wouldn't have to do, like taking the bag from the shredder that's too full of paper and put half in a new bag, trying not to spill the shredded paper all over the floor, and taking the two bags downstairs and trying to find someone who can tell me where to put the bags and then be told it's not my job to take the bags downstairs and I should have left them up in the office to be picked up by the maintenance guy (although I won't understand why they call him a maintenance guy when all he does is clean stuff up, shouldn't he be called a janitor, that's what he does, after all) and when I ask if I should just take the stuff back upstairs I'll get an eye roll and a huge sigh and the bags taken from me and then as I ride the elevator back up I'll remember that I didn't put a bag into the shredder and I'll get back to the machine I find that some jackass closed the door without checking to see if there was a bag and after I open the door the shreddings go all over the place and I'll sigh and I'll pick up the paper bits and put them in the bag which I'll put in the shredder before going back to my desk to be given more work that I normally wouldn't have to do.
And now it's around 10:30. I've been playing that game I wrote about the other day. Honestly, it's not that great of a game after playing it for a couple of weeks, but it's a good distraction from all the stuff that I'm supposed to be doing right now.
I keep thinking that I should have called in sick today, but what good would that have done me. I'd just be sitting at my apartment in my underwear watching Star Trek. What a waste of a sick day. A sick day should be used when you're actually sick or when you're going to be doing something interesting. Like go to an amusement park or friends are visiting or sex is being had all day long or all three at the same time. Not to sit and watch TV.
About 366 days ago, things looked a little better. I described them as, "Right now my outlook is bright and bleak, sunny and stormy, half-full and half-empty; you choose the metaphor."
And then there's the fog here. I'm one of the few people I know who likes fog, but the fog here is weird. In the morning, as I walk to work, the fog is really high up. Visibility on the ground is nearly perfect. When I get to work and look out the windows on the fourth floor, the visibility is still nearly perfect, this is at 8 AM. By 10AM, the fog, from the fourth floor, is so think I can barely see the parking garage across the street. I don't know what it's like at ground level because I'm, usually, working. Around 11 AM sunlight starts streaming through. At noon, when I go on lunch, it's clear out. I miss the farmland fog that just seeps out of the ground and then sits there all day long.
I got a call last Thursday after four from one of the places I sent off to saying I was interested in an interview. The lady on the other end asked me if I could be in Cowcity for an interview the next morning at eight. I told her that it was too far away and not enough time to ask for the next morning off. She said don't worry about getting the morning off because they may not actually get to the interview until the afternoon. I said I was sorry, but couldn't make it because it was such a long drive and I needed notice to get the time off. She said not to worry because they have plenty of other candidates.
And now it's around 10:30. I've been playing that game I wrote about the other day. Honestly, it's not that great of a game after playing it for a couple of weeks, but it's a good distraction from all the stuff that I'm supposed to be doing right now.
I keep thinking that I should have called in sick today, but what good would that have done me. I'd just be sitting at my apartment in my underwear watching Star Trek. What a waste of a sick day. A sick day should be used when you're actually sick or when you're going to be doing something interesting. Like go to an amusement park or friends are visiting or sex is being had all day long or all three at the same time. Not to sit and watch TV.
About 366 days ago, things looked a little better. I described them as, "Right now my outlook is bright and bleak, sunny and stormy, half-full and half-empty; you choose the metaphor."
And then there's the fog here. I'm one of the few people I know who likes fog, but the fog here is weird. In the morning, as I walk to work, the fog is really high up. Visibility on the ground is nearly perfect. When I get to work and look out the windows on the fourth floor, the visibility is still nearly perfect, this is at 8 AM. By 10AM, the fog, from the fourth floor, is so think I can barely see the parking garage across the street. I don't know what it's like at ground level because I'm, usually, working. Around 11 AM sunlight starts streaming through. At noon, when I go on lunch, it's clear out. I miss the farmland fog that just seeps out of the ground and then sits there all day long.
I got a call last Thursday after four from one of the places I sent off to saying I was interested in an interview. The lady on the other end asked me if I could be in Cowcity for an interview the next morning at eight. I told her that it was too far away and not enough time to ask for the next morning off. She said don't worry about getting the morning off because they may not actually get to the interview until the afternoon. I said I was sorry, but couldn't make it because it was such a long drive and I needed notice to get the time off. She said not to worry because they have plenty of other candidates.
Thursday, January 25, 2007
Untitled
I have... well, not much today.
Other people seem to have things on their minds that they put forth, but not me... well, not today, at least.
I just keep thinking about how much I want to get out of here. This job. This city. This state. This country. This ____. I don't really want to move on to the job I'm trying to move on to and I don't know if that city is the right place, either.
Then, as usual, the whole question becomes "What?" doesn't it? Because if I could just answer that "What?" it would, hopefully, give a direction to a where that could define the city, state, and country. And having all that figured out should lead to a ____, which could lead to so many other things.
Today is a day when I don't want to be me. It's a day when I'd like to try being this guy just to be not me for a while. Well, maybe not that guy, but, how did The Great Gonzo put it, "But most of all I wish that I was someone else but me."
Have you ever seen people like that? People who adjust all their mannerisms whenever a new person enters or leaves? People who speak differently at every occasion? Those people astound me. I have three settings: alone, comfortable with the people around me, and uncomfortable with the people around me.
Other people seem to have things on their minds that they put forth, but not me... well, not today, at least.
I just keep thinking about how much I want to get out of here. This job. This city. This state. This country. This ____. I don't really want to move on to the job I'm trying to move on to and I don't know if that city is the right place, either.
Then, as usual, the whole question becomes "What?" doesn't it? Because if I could just answer that "What?" it would, hopefully, give a direction to a where that could define the city, state, and country. And having all that figured out should lead to a ____, which could lead to so many other things.
Today is a day when I don't want to be me. It's a day when I'd like to try being this guy just to be not me for a while. Well, maybe not that guy, but, how did The Great Gonzo put it, "But most of all I wish that I was someone else but me."
Have you ever seen people like that? People who adjust all their mannerisms whenever a new person enters or leaves? People who speak differently at every occasion? Those people astound me. I have three settings: alone, comfortable with the people around me, and uncomfortable with the people around me.
Thursday, January 18, 2007
Tired
Been boxing files most of the day. Still feeling iffy and now very tired.
I have nothing interesting, right now, that I want to say. Can't think.
Can others out there help?
I have nothing interesting, right now, that I want to say. Can't think.
Can others out there help?
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