De-store Detox
Today was my first day of "vacation" which is what i'm calling this period of unemployment. Monday and Tuesday i sat in my armchair all day and studied for midterms. I felt very non-vacationy yet ironically unproductive. Today, however, i only did about an hour of homework, and the rest of the day i did absolutely nothing productive. I took the dog for a log walk and then played with him outside for a good long while; you could almost see the life seaping back into me from the fresh air. i'm sure i turned rosy red from the walking cloud of gray i've been for the past few months. Now if only i can eat no food and spend absolutely no money on anything, i'll be all set. Yessir, vacation is going to be starvation awesome!!!
Here's a trick to avoid starvation when you're poor: go to a bridal shower! On Saturday i went to Becky's bridal shower, and boy was there ever some food to be had! I tell you, whenver i go to a party i act like i've never seen food before. Also there was wine, but we won't get into that. Anyway, the B-Showah was fun (if you think it's fun to watch someone open Crate and Barrel boxes for AN HOUR AND A HALF! I don't) and it was surprising to see many girls i had gone to high school with. Hours were spent gossiping about who's married and who's gay. Seems more people are gay than married at the moment, but Becky soon may tip the scales. Let's hope so!!! Homes, not Homos! Hahahahaha, that was my funny joke as if i was a conservative. Anyway, Becky is marrying a black guy, like i said, so she doesn't really count for conservative values. Oh Snap! She Said SIT DOWN!
Anyway, i'm livin la vida BROKE-a over here at casa-del-unemployment, but already i feel healthier and better slept. I slept till 8:30 this morning! Oh, the excess!!!
HAPPY VACATION ME
"Vacation"
Today was my first day of "vacation" which is what i'm calling this period of unemployment. Monday and Tuesday i sat in my armchair all day and studied for midterms. I felt very non-vacationy yet ironically unproductive. Today, however, i only did about an hour of homework, and the rest of the day i did absolutely nothing productive. I took the dog for a log walk and then played with him outside for a good long while; you could almost see the life seaping back into me from the fresh air. i'm sure i turned rosy red from the walking cloud of gray i've been for the past few months. Now if only i can eat no food and spend absolutely no money on anything, i'll be all set. Yessir, vacation is going to be starvation awesome!!!
Here's a trick to avoid starvation when you're poor: go to a bridal shower! On Saturday i went to Becky's bridal shower, and boy was there ever some food to be had! I tell you, whenver i go to a party i act like i've never seen food before. Also there was wine, but we won't get into that. Anyway, the B-Showah was fun (if you think it's fun to watch someone open Crate and Barrel boxes for AN HOUR AND A HALF! I don't) and it was surprising to see many girls i had gone to high school with. Hours were spent gossiping about who's married and who's gay. Seems more people are gay than married at the moment, but Becky soon may tip the scales. Let's hope so!!! Homes, not Homos! Hahahahaha, that was my funny joke as if i was a conservative. Anyway, Becky is marrying a black guy, like i said, so she doesn't really count for conservative values. Oh Snap! She Said SIT DOWN!
Anyway, i'm livin la vida BROKE-a over here at casa-del-unemployment, but already i feel healthier and better slept. I slept till 8:30 this morning! Oh, the excess!!!
HAPPY VACATION ME
Let them eat rice
Dan: I'm making Rice Pilaf with dinner.
Leah: Another one? But there's one in the fridge still!
Dan: Yeah, but that one's old and dried out. A new one will be much better.
Leah: But can we afford it? Maybe we could use the old one. Maybe we could just moisten it with something.
Dan: Yeah, our tears.
my new laptop is broken
Leah: Hey, the website says that the geeks at Babson will fix my laptop for free!
Dan: That's great!
Leah: I need to leave it with them, though. I'd better take the porn off of it first.
Dan:..... (silence)
Leah: That was a joke.
Dan: I'm laughing on the inside.
A good jewelry-store manager is apparently hard to find.
The owner of a competitive Jewelry store heard that we were going out of business, and based on good customer reviews she had heard about me, the owner called my cell phone three-times daily for a week until i agreed to meet with her yesterday. "Hi, this message is for Leah, this is ---- calling from -----
Aren't we soooo cute?
Leah: What are you going to do now? You have two choices: go back to work or cuddle me.
Dan: Those are my only two choices?
Leah: The chef recommends cuddle me.
Dan: I can make up my own choices.
Leah: The cuddle me is very good this morning.
HAPPY BIRTHDAY DAN!!!
Yesterday Dan turned 29. As our vet would say: Oh my goodness!!!!
We celebrated by GETTING DISGUSTINGLY FAT, as always. On Saturday night we went out to dinner with Dan's parents to the restaurant which so irritatingly doesn't take reservations but which is so deliciously good that to go somewhere else would find us in violation of the LAW*. On Sunday afternoon, the church crew threw a bangin' party for Dan, during which he ate ice cream topped with chocolate topped with whipped cream topped with cheese-cake. We also played apples to apples, during which i had to judge which is more "Hopeless," "The Great Depression" or "Going to the Gym." Obviously, i picked the latter.
In the middle of the day i had to leave Dan to his own devices, because my Mommy is sick in the hospital with vahamatriculitimitus or something, a disease which you cannot even pronounce, but since it turns out not to be life-threatening, it's more annoying than scary. It gave us a good long time to chat, especially about my brother who has announced his plans to spend the summer in China at a Shoulin monistary studying meditation and Kungfu.
"Is he aware that meditation is, like, booring?" I said.
I also told my parents about how Tom's gonna up and get married at the beginning of April.
"So soon?" my mom said, "I was going to get them an engagement present. Are they registered anywhere?"
"Yeah, immigration," I said.
"Pier one imports," said my dad.
You can see where i get it from.
All in all, it was an eventful birthday for Dan, almost too eventful! Now that he's getting up in years, we're going to have to space out our partying to provide for more naps.
*Legal seafoods, dumbasses.
Wah Wah Wah Blah Blah Blah
I haven't been writing in the blog very much recently. Now that i'm home and unemployed and generally not doing very much, i don't have anything interesting to report. Since i've been home, i have been amazed at how much Dan works on his client's websites. I thought we would do fun things together, like go on hikes or day trips, but mostly he works all the time. He's at the computer pretty much all day without stopping. Now i feel bad for ever chastising him that the house was a mess.
I should be looking for jobs and/or figuring out what i'm going to be doing with my life for the next few years. When you have been depressed about your job for the past three years, this is not as easy as it sounds. Sometimes i feel excited that i'm not breaking my back over a job i hated. Sometimes i feel lazy and very very useless. I do all my homework, but it's not that much, and it's not that hard. It was hard when i was working 50 hours. Now that it's all that i do, i'm done with my reading every day by 10am.
I've been sleeping later. When i don't have class, i stay in the house all day. I quit the gym because it was too expensive, but now i don't have anywhere to go. My entire life stretches out in front of me for years and years that my mind fills with blank nothingness. I find it impossible to imagine any career that would make me happy. I find it hard to imagine a successful life. I wish i had something to do with my time. I do my homework, i check my e-mail, i send out resumes. I try not to spend too much time thinking about my own death, but there are a lot of hours in a day.
For years i have complained that i never got a vacation. "I've worked from the second i got out of college," i moaned, "With not one break, not one second to reevaluate if this is what i really want to do with my life." Now i do have a break, and the opportunity for self-reflection is mine. What is the essence of Leah, the person? I thought i would use my supreme intillect to reason the problem out. I will do something amazing with my life, if i only have a minute to sit and think about it! But that was a load of bull-crap. Who is Leah really now? A lazy pajama-clad fatty checking her e-mail at noon, eating peanut-butter straight out of the jar? A number in the computer at the unemployment office? A washed-up shop-girl?
Either i will take more classes, or i will get a job, or i will go insane. All three seem possibilities with equal weight at this moment.
Adventure
Today we went to the seaside. To a child the ocean is a mythic mass, extending from your tiny wading toes all the way to the other end of the earth, to the other end of existence. But to a dog, the ocean is water, no different from the pond in Carlisle where he first dove in or the puddles of muddy mess that he laps in the street.
Metaphysical symbolism nonwithstanding, however, Rascal loved the seaside. Turns out that Rockport on Saturdays is filled with dogs, dogs running and playing everywhere you look, dog heaven! Rascal ran and ran with all different puppies, even following some into the water of a calm seaside tributary. Once the water dropped over his head, Rascal was pretty surprised. He waded back to us with a rather ungracefull dog-paddle, and we his parents were very very proud.
Rascal also showed marked fearlessness on the jetties, jumping from rock to rock. This is a trait he takes from his father, Dan. Rascal fished in the stream and even caught some big pieces of seaweed. All in all he very much enjoyed the whole trip. Except the car ride. He threw up in the back seat. It was gross.
When we came back everyone was tired. Dan tells me we can go on more fun trips, before i grow up and get a job. The next one will be to Ikea, hopefully. Now won't that be an adventure!!!
Dan and the terrible horrible no good very bad day
In the mornings we take Rascal outside to play. We throw around an old soccer ball, and Rascal chases after it with all the ghusto of the Iraqi soccer team, you know, when they represented the hopes of two nations. It is lovely in the mornings, especially now that the weather has turned warmer, and a half hour of playing with the whole family in the morning dew makes this house, with it's huge expanse of lawn and huger drain on the last of our savings account, worthwhile.
We put Rascal on a long leash, 20 feet, so that if he starts to run away we can but step on the end. He hardly notices, and neither do we, which has before today never proved dangerous. Today, however, the fates had it in for Danny. Dan threw the ball like always, and Rascal chased it, and this morning, as i looked over from accross the yard, i noticed the end of the leash whipping menacingly around Dan's pant leg. Then, as Rascal neared the ball running faster and faster, the end of the leash whipped around at last, lassooing against itself, and wrapped in a flash both of Dan's ankles. From there it was a slow TIMBER, and as i yelled, "Oh my goodness!" Dan, stiff as a tree, toppled over.
Poor Dan, he just about hurt every bone in his body. The hurt was compiled by the fact that the sight of Dan, being ropped by his feet and pulled by the dog, then slowly toppling as you knew must happen, was just about the funniest thing you could possibly hope to see. Too bad no one from America's funniest home videos was around. They love that kinda shit.
Speaking of America's funniest home videos, later when Dan was leaning over me to look at something on the computer, i gesticulated for emphasis and elbowed him in a very private are. After Dan had finished his whinces, he moaned, "I'm not having a good day today!"
Dan and Leah looking over her cover letter
Leah: We're missing something. There's gotta be something else. Team player, we gotta get that in.
Dan: Team player?
Leah: Yeah, i'm a team player, write that.
Dan: What do you mean team player?
Leah: I'm a team player, i play for the team!
Dan: I have never seen you be a team player in all your life!
Leah: What are you talking about? Of course i'm a team player!
Dan: You hate the team! You're always saying: "Everyone who works here is so stupid. I would like my job so much better if i didn't have to work with people. I hate everyone at my school. Everyone is so stupid. It would be so much better if i were the only one in the class."
Leah: You're right! I'm not a team player! I hate the team!
Dan: It's true.
Leah: Really i'm more of a solo performer.
Dan: You can write, "Though not a team player, I will be happy to take control of your company and tell you exactly what you're doing wrong."
Leah: I'll keep it to "Passionate leadership."
Dan: Yeah, that bit is you.
Torture, thy name is Unemployment
This week i made three beautiful cover letters, and three custom-made resumes, fed-exed them all in beautiful fedex envelopes. The fact that no-one even emails to say "You suck" makes me seriously contemplate ending my life. It's not like i'm applying to CEO jobs; i am perfectly qualified for these jobs; see in my resume how i've done exactly what it is you need someone for. It's like pitching pebbles into a bottomless well. The void is soul-shattering.
I know that i may need to apply to three hundred jobs before even getting one interview, but working on a new resume and cover letter for each one means two hours spent on each, times three hundred, is six hundred hours, divided by eight, is roughly 75 days (2.5 months) of toil with absolutely no response. My unemployment insurance will last that long, but i'm afraid i might not. I can be expected to change jobs 7 to 10 times in my lifetime. Already the future looks bleak, and i think of exciting ways to end it. Jumping out of a plane without a parachute? Sounds interesting. Oh wait, i already lost my job without a backup plan, so DONE THAT.
Speaking of suicide, I will be hosting 13 middle-school girls scouts at my house tomorrow. They will be SLEEPING OVER!!!!! Dun Dun Dun. What am i doing typing here? Back to frantic panicking!
Seriously though, there is cleaning and shopping do to, not to mention putting all my nail-polish bottles in a neat row for perusal. As far as i can tell, the source of GirlPower is nailpolish, or at least that's what i remember from working at The Limited II. (OMG, you worked at TL2? That's like totally my favorite store!)
Time to pass on some of my mature adult knowledge... like never EVER lose your frickin job.
double dog dare
We liked having one dog so much we got ourselves another one! Just for one week though, we couldn't handle more than that. We're taking care of Rascal's best friend Sadie, and aren't the two of them having fun together. Actually, Rascal is having more fun; being the younger of the two, he has more energy and is also more annoying. His idea of playing is to bite Sadie in the face. She puts up with it with remarkable equinimity, perhaps because she remembers the time when Rascal was a young pup and tried to play the bitey game and she punched him in the eye. She knows she could do it again if she wanted to, even though he's grown a good bit since then and is almost as tall as her now.
Along with the puppies we also have about 1000 girl scouts in the house, but they're only here for one night, thank goodness. It's only a terrible coincidence that the girl scout sleepover (for which Leah is responsible: I had nothing to do with it) overlapped with the puppy-sitting; though actually, it hardly matters, since Sadie is so good we hardly notice her presence. Rascal isn't bad, but since he's scared of girls and also bags, and since he barks sometimes when he's scared, his presence is less easy to overlook. He's cute though, so no one minds.
This is probably the most people we've ever had in our house, actually: besides the two dogs and 1000 12- and 13-year-old girl scouts, there is also Leah and me and Leah's two other co-leaders and the mother of one of those co-leaders, whose presence here fulfills some sort of scouting requirement for the presence of individuals with vital life-saving skills, and who very nicely consented to be locked in the guest bedroom for the duration of the evening. I'm upstairs too, but that's by choice since they're watching Space Balls downstairs. I participated when it was Apples to Apples they were playing. Also it's past my bedtime. But down there they're just getting the chocolate fountain warmed up, so I fear the chirping sounds of young ladies in full voice will continue for some time yet.
1000 girl scouts can sound like 4,647
Even though there were only 1000 girl scouts sleeping at our house last night, it sounded like 4,647 or so. And they sounded until 1:30 in the morning, or even later I'm told. That's when I managed to go to sleep, anyways, and Leah too. And then I had to wake up at 7:00 this morning, and Leah did too to help with the dogs. As a result of all the lack of sleep and commotion, she's had a terrible migraine all afternoon and feels like she's dying. I felt poorly today as well, but that may have been due as much to the number of chocolate-covered potato chips* I ate as to the late night.
*Actually, that's a lie. I only ate one chocolate-covered potato chip, and it wasn't very tasty. I did, however, eat a number of chocolate-covered pretzels, marshmallows, banana pieces, grapes, apple pieces, pretzels, and toothpicks, which probably had the same effect. The chocolate fountain is a tremendous invention.
On my honor, i will try...
As Dan mentioned, we hosted a Girl Scout overnight at our house on Saturday. Then i spend Sunday sleeping and throwing up. Let's never have a teenager of our own.
Actually, the final total was more like 11 and less like 1000 Scouts, but that's still a lot by decibal standards. They're not exactly socialized for conversation, so when there's two of them talking they start to scream at the top of their lungs just to be heard. They don't understand pausing or taking turns so much. In fact, there's a lot they don't understand. Becky overheard them whispering/shouting in the night, and it turns out there's a whole spectrum of sexual knowledge that is still very fuzzy in their minds. In retrospect, i WISH i had hidden a tape-recorder somewhere.
The aftermath of the event was that i felt like i would DIE of sickness. No harm in that, i guess, if you don't have a job to go to. Still, i've sworn off junk-food for at least six more hours. I'm not as young as i used to be, after all.
Ethnic, ooooooh
Last night we went out to dinner with my parents and my brother. My brother is planning to spend the summer studying Kung-fu and meditation at a Shoulin monistary in China. He will learn to harnass his Chi. Then he will sell this information to Ford for their design of an eco-friendly Chi-drawn chariot.
We went for Afghan food, (who knew so trendy?) and the place was absolutely packed on a Tuesday night. In Afghanistan, Dan remarked, it's traditional to eat out on Tuesday instead of Saturday. The food was very spicy and tastey. Who knew they ate so good in all those little caves? No wonder they want to keep out the infadels.
My mother told the waiter NO BUTTER OR YOGURT, UNLESS ON THE SIDE, WE'RE ALERGIC TO DAIRY with that level of critical emphasis. When the waiter came back to deliver the bread, he placed the butter on the opposite side of the table with a grand gesture and said, "Not For You!" I laughed till i almost fell off my chair. Why be racist when those Afgans have such a good sense of mocking humor?
Lookin for Professional-Development-and-Financial-Stability in all the wrong places
I have applied to almost 50 jobs so far, and the only one that called me for an interview was an assistant office monkey position which offers a salary cut, a major career path detour, and responsibilites for which i am WAY WAY overqualified. The horrible failure that is my job search is so extremely farcicle that it makes me want to laugh, if the lethal overdose of NiQuil wasn't so close to my lips that i'd inadvertantly blow bubbles.
I have stopped applying to jobs for the week because i have a midterm due, which seems like such a moot issue when MY LIFE IS CRUMBLING, but still i have to work hard on it because it might like affect my future.
(Ed. Note: Ha ha, despite all she's been through Leah still believes in the falacy of the American dream! Look at her lapping that shit up: if you work hard enough you will somehow be rewarded. Isn't it quaint? It's like looking into a snapshot from Communist China!)
BSC, how i've missed thee
Today Dan had all-day appointments, which left me home to take care of the dogs, one of whom has over the course of this one-week attention-sharing relationship, become more demanding than JLo. Rascal scratched at the door to go out approximately thirteen seconds after each time he got inside from going out. I couldn't leave him outside tied up alone, because the neighborhood boys were out in force with the sole aim of torturing my puppy while my back was turned. So i spent approximately 75% of my midterm-devoted day occupying the dogs by outside in the drizzle. By the time Dan came home at 6pm i was ready to let Rascal go play on the interstate.
Then, at about 6:30, with Dan moaning upstairs of sickness and Rascal scratching to go outside for the hundred-and-fiftieth time today, i snapped.
"I need to get out of this house," I said, with the finality that i would punch through the glass door if leaving did not happen soon.
"I am going to the gym."
Which proved a slight technical problem, considering i am now too poor to be a paying member. However, nothing can deter a crazed woman about to throw her dog onto I95. I downloaded a free one-week pass under my new name and went upstairs to Dan's computer to print it out.
"We're out of ink," Dan said.
This was met with my incredulous stare.
"Are you telling me that you can't print it?" I said in my mother's most irritating voice.
"Well, there's no more ink!" Dan snipped, irritated.
I walked out of the room silently and continued to assemble my gym clothes, in a fashion that indicated that Dan was GOING to get that pass to print, if he wanted to wake up in the morning with a scalp. Several moments later he produced a printed copy. He saw in my eyes that i was about to tear my fist into his computer monitor and wrip out the e-mail myself, if that would allow me to get out of the fucking house.
Thank God for the stupid gym. After two hours of sweating to cable, i feel moderately better.
Being unemployed feels kind of like being in highschool, in that i think about killing myself about as often as KISS108 plays a song by Kelly Clarkson. I have no job, which means no purpose, no identity, no reason for existing, no value i am adding to the universe. I even sound as lame as i did in highschool, see? I am becoming a value vaccume, sucking value from the world, sucking air and water and perfectly good microwave popcorn, all that could be used by people who fucking DO something for a living. Me, i do nothing but apply to jobs that do not even respond, compounding my faioling FAIL FAIL FAILure of a life. Gosh, this even sounds like one of my highschool diary entries. Dear Diary, Today i ate something, I am such a fucking LOSER! I should kill myself and then listen to Nirvana. Not in that order, though.
Pahleeze!
At the gym i exercized an a cardio machine for an hour and a half, and the lack of my life's purpose started to fade into the background of E! News! Live! Did you know that Wilmer Valderama has his own show on MTV now? Enthralling!
Now if only i can figure out how to pay for the gym on a longterm basis. These days I visit Wholefoods and scavenger for free samples. I cross back and forth across the store from one lump of pate to anouther. I put a bite in my mouth, nodding my head and pretending to read the label. "This is good," i try to indicate with my nodding, "I am seriously considering its purchase, i just need to try anouther quick sample..."
This is not a lasting solution. I must get a job or i may not live to see 25.
NOTICE TO ALL BLOG READERS:
It has come to my attention, recently, that some people reading this blog are under the impression that i have gone off the deep end, off my rocker, in other words completely fucking crazy. This is an unfortunate misunderstanding. My goal first and foremost in this blog is always to be funny, and if i emphasize the details of Dan and i being poor, or of me constantly contemplating suicide, it is only with the goal of generating cheerful laughter in the breast of you, dear reader. If you fail to see how constant invocation of self-mutilation is funny, well maybe that's your fault. Because i, quite frankly, find it fucking hilarious!
I have also received comments that the profanity on this blog (note the DOUBLE occurence of the f-word in the previous paragraph) has skyrocketed to a troubling degree. Newsflash: i gave up coffee for lent, NOT CUSSING! I have a potty mouth, and if you don't like it, the stockholders are free to vote me off of this blog. Ha ha ha ha ha, NOT. I was pretending like this blog was a corporation! Yeah, maybe if you paid me SECURITIES you could change the content! Oh yeah, that's a good one! Who just came home from a class in corporate governance law!?
So in conclusion, those of you who come to this blog to hear me say the f-word and make fun of fat people, this will continue. Those of you who are my friends, no need to stage interventions on my cell-phone at three in the morning. Seriously, i'm not going to kill myself unless i'm unemployed for anouther week and a half, at LEAST.
Tooth Hurty.
This morning i woke up all rarrin to get crackin (awful mix of idioms defensible by the fact that i no longer leave my house to speak to people), yet after no more than 30 minutes of wakefulness, i was struck down by a debilitating tooth ache. For those of you who know what it's like not to have dental insurance, you know a toothache brings with it the fear of Hades. Will this need a fill? A crown? God forbid a root canal, in which case i may need to cancel my plans for graduate school.
Luckily, the throbbing pain in my mouth was not due to infection, but to vanity. I had been bleaching my teeth to achieve a whiter interview smile, and i don't know if the nightly effect was cumulative, but for some reason whereas the tenderness had been mildly annoying previously, this morning the agony hit me like a ton of bricks swung by a crane into my face. Holy mother of fuck it hurt. I took asprin, i tried to distract myself. I hid in different rooms of the house, but everywhere i went my teeth KNEW i was there! Finally i gave up in a weeping puddle. I went back to bed and slept till 1pm.
When I woke up again my teeth still hurt, but not so throbbingly so that i had an excuse for not applying to jobs. They say that beauty is pain, and pain is weakness leaving the body. As I lay writhing, however, i swore i would gladly be a yellow snaggletoothed ugly old hag, just to avoid the sight of my own such physical weakness.
Wait, youĂre NOT supposed to bleach your teeth with actual bleach? Oh. My B.
Could an Employer be Reading This?
On the front page of the Boston Globe this morning, Diane Lewis illuminates a new hiring trend: employers declining to hire candidates after perusing their personal Weblogs. Apparently, after reading self-indulgent and even hostile content on these so-called ìblogsî, employers deem the candidate in question immature, unprofessional, and not worthy of employment.
I for one am appalled... at the carelessness of these obviously inferior job applicants for publishing such personality-blighting information on the internet! As you know, dear reader, I have always portrayed myself as I would wish any potential employer to see me: cheerful, of sound analytic mind, self-confident, and willing to take on new challenges. Of course, this has never been difficult for me. These are natural qualities I have always possessed, and I make use of them enthusiastically on every job, and even outside the office to promote the financial success of my employer. Anyone would easily conclude upon a systematic review of this blog, the validity of my positive attributes. Although, I might add, as such a review would be time consuming and occupy valuable company bandwidth, I would not recommend such a needless activity.
I have always viewed internet publishing as a thoughtful vehicle for the intellectually elite. Those of us who are simply not challenged sufficiently by managing complex multi-store productivity audits at the same time as maintaining a 3.9 GPA at an elite Boston graduate school, we who long for greater job-related responsibility, find ourselves going to the computer late into the evening (or early in the morning before a daily 5-mile run) to expound on the merits of various political developments and sociological trends. I myself recall fondly after a good read of Economic Theory and Practice by Patrick J. Welch, running to the computer to share with my loyal readership new insights on the monopolizing affects of government subsidies on native agrarian cultures.
Of course, a Weblog can also be used for the therapeutic process of analyzing emotional phenomena, and never has this been more clear than here in these pages. I have often documented my frustrations with my current employer, I being the soul team player to contribute value to the bottom line, gladly working longer hours and more diligently than average. I have fumed that my colleagues just donít CARE about managing dynamic systems! And while certain readers might view these temporary slips of emotion inconvenient, I conclude that I have portrayed myself honestly, and I have no reason to believe that an employer reading a posting such as this one would consider such frivolous musings a serious contraindication to my membership in their firm.
In conclusion, inferior job candidates who clearly demonstrate their negative qualities on ìblogsî should have reason to fear employer discovery. Those of us endowed with more intellectual capacity and emotionally stability, however, will calmly keep above the fray, and be offered jobs with compensation equal to our high level of skill and economic value. Of this I am sure.
Walking Rascal is an exercise in Budhist detachment
Taking a walk by the woods the day after a huge wind storm, Rascal was startled by the crashing sound of a large timber falling in the distance.
"Oh, poor baby!" I cooed to the cowering pup. "Did a tree fall in the forest and make a sound?"
All of a sudden i realized i'd said something ironic, but unfortunately the humor was lost on the dog.
Friday Un-Scandalous
Dan is afraid that i have a crush on one of my teachers, because i went to his office for extra help and then he took me to lunch. I tried to convey to Dan that the Babson Student Center, while sometimes serving excellent Pizza, is not any place that i would go on a date, let alone to seduce a man who has a 100% control over on my final grade!
Unfortunately, on this beautiful spring Friday in the school cafeteria, all the talk was of test-prep and the most exciting thing that happened was i drank a cup of Pepsi the size of my rib-cage. What happened to my beautiful affair with academics? Where i'd swoon over knowledge pouring forth like a cornucopia? I fear that all i'm learning is a list of buzzwords, and if i cannot leverage these methodologies into a feasible career structure, then i'm totally over it already.