It’s one of those days. That beautiful crisp autumnal reach of brilliant light that climb around hearty stalks of slowly drying birch and oaks, where leaves are grasping for their last breath of vibrant green— where the rich reds, deep ochre’s breach the fading bud and bloom into a new phase of life. The day is quiet. It is serene. Heady.
I woke up this morning invaded by a nasty taste in my mouth- a smokers’ hangover, one that could keep most good women down. Last night my mind raced. It jumped from one activity to the next.
Write down goals for the distant future
Write down goals for the not-so-distant future
Start crocheting a new scarf
Write down your visioning dreams
Do Morning Pages-scratch that wait till the am.
Don’t miss Two and a Half Men
Start your psychic Journal
Try to meditate for the 40th time tonight
Have another cigarette
Masturbate-scratch that, may take too much time
Stare into the blackness for about an hour or so.
Watch In Bruges for the 4th time tonight.
When was it said that you should under-compensate for your skills to get a job? I finished a gig that was meant to last 2-3 weeks. I was supposed to move some files to a different department, reorganize them and label them-in heels no less. I was told that it was an assignment that called for my strong organizational skills and Microsoft Applications experience, I was prepared to be behind a desk for the whole of the day. Instead, I wore my best shoes, fabulous and high to do hardcore labor and moving equipment and files. Nice.
I had believed this assignment to be a way to keep me busy while my original contact was at home gathering all of her soggy insurance documentation from a flooded basement in a waterlogged suburb that was hit by our 72 hour rainstorm. Little had I known- this reorganization project WAS the 2-3 week assignment.
Terribly excited about the prospect of guaranteed income (rent) for the next 2 weeks (at least) I jumped the gun by taking a feigned leave of absence from the hideously tragic telemarketing job that I had held for 5 weeks. I had high hopes to move onward and upward from the temp assignment at the Wrigley Building. Anything was better than aggravating already annoyed prospects, some of which had lost jobs, down sized their possessions and really wasn’t in the market for any jerk trying to trade her wares for their hard earned cash. Instead I had given them an unofficial leave of absence and purchased 3 professional outfits to get ready for the weeks ahead of me.
I arrived at 8:30. My contact had changed he pointed out the work that needed to be done. 26 tall, deep and long vertical files had to be transferred, reorganized and labeled. Needless to say I was done before lunch. My assignment was officially and unceremoniously over. A retarded ape may have taken about 2-3 weeks to finish the job. I am no retarded ape.
Thank god for my experience with the mundane, repetitive, mindless shizah I had been blessed with in the past. Now I know what it was ALL for.
The Universe has got me cradled in her heaving bosom!
Well at least I had an interview set up for the following day. But when I woke up with that awful smoking exhaustion, there was an ominous voice mail message beeping at me from my employment agency, it lay in wait on my cell phone as I tried to get past the sun in my eyes and the chill on the toilet seat.
The company had hired from within. Your interview has been cancelled. Your time spent all weekend positive visioning, meditating, manifesting, studying and rehearsing in fron of the mirror has paid off! Be hold! Preparation for No one. Its like waiting on a blind date that never comes. Beautiful!
Oh, I am not ungrateful, just disgruntled. A broke, disgruntled, unemployed, apparently unemployable, ex-telemarketer who did her job too well to keep it going long enough to earn money for toothpaste and toilet paper. Ah, such is life, I suppose.
Well, at least I have therapy.