Wednesday, May 02, 2007

A belated post about, well, nothing. That's why it's taken so long, silly goose.

I have yet to solve this puzzle known as employment. Last post dealt with the wondrous lessons I learned as a temp, most of which reflected a certain bitterness after a day spent in the closest thing I've got to a business suit, passing out folders to European doctors who looked at me like I had some sort of contagious fungus on my face. Two days later, I got to play a faux mobster in a scavenger hunt and make sixty dollars talking about how my cousin got himself flattened under a parade route's worth of elephants. Yet, since then: nothing. We're about 4 days away from signing up for electroshock studies. $100 for 3 hours of voltage-induced agony, eh? Do they pay for parking?

The give and take is this: no work equals no money but no work equals no stress. Call it the reverse Puff Daddy corrolary; if mo money means mo problems, no money means no problems. After all, food and shelter: highly overrated.

I think the key here is embracing the situation. Temping is sort of like a really crappy lottery. At any moment, the phone could ring, and a new, mind-numbingly vanilla job could be mine the very next day. Data entry? Why not? Receptionist? Done did that. Stuffing little foam torsos in a plastic cylinder? Please, you're talking to a pro. So see, it's all in how you look at it. Today, the fat kid with the glandular problem is at the "ain't got no work" end of the employment teeter-totter so I may as well make good use of it. I think I'll go play the piano. It's free, you know.

I should mention a couple things before skeedaddling, though. Birdmonster is currently on touring hiatus as we work on new songs and a dynamite cover of "Allentown", so missives from the road will be lacking. We should have some real news soon as we're gearing up for another album, which was the original reason for the blog in the first place, which, now that I mention it, makes me feel like Tony Gwynn's grandpa, kind of old and really proud. I have also neglected to mention how thoroughly glorious it was playing in Ess Eff again but, really, it pretty much goes without saying. Regardless of what Charles Barkley thinks, the Bay Area is the metropolitan equivalent of proscuitto and melon. Oh, and if you missed it: Illinois and the Cribs are effing magnificent. Don't say you weren't warned. You were.

6 comments:

Sabrina said...

I feel your pain. I just went downstairs to the little man store and bought a Lotto Ticket. I was home sick yesterday (stomach flu) and just kept wishing that there was some way to never have to work again. Obviously I didn't get anywhere since I'm at the office right now! However, mentally I'm laying on a warm beach, preferrably Hawaii. Best of luck with your job search!

SOL's view said...

Yeah, something to be said about days off. Wish there was some way I could get 7 days a week off, but be paid for a full time job. There must be something I can do.....

RD said...

Yes! I've been not working for several months now and yeah, I get bored and sleep all day......but on the whole, it's nice.

And Illinois are pretty great; they opened for Dr. Dog a few weeks ago at the Popped festival here in Philly.

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