October 4, 2006
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This is such bad form. I wrote an email today, a portion of which I’ve decided to share a (slighly edited) version of with my Xanga readers. I feel like a cheater to post it insead of writing a fresh thing, but it was unexpectedly decent storytelling (for an email), so I thought I would make a wee post of it. I hope this does not make my email any less personal. Sheesh. Anything for storytelling, right? Man, I have picked up some bad habbits from our reality-show watching culture, haven’t I? Without further ado….
The Wanderer
…things our way are beautiful. We’ve got new pictures up on The Loch Ness Blog. I finished and passed my driving class today, where I learned to drive a stick (they only have manual transmissions here) on the wrong side of the road on the wrong side of the car. Also today, I’ve enrolled to take a course to get certified to teach English as a Foreign Language, which is an internationally recognized certification that I can use once back in the states again, if not sooner. And I’m writing like crazy. When everything is so fresh like it is, writing is so easy! My brain is churning 24/7.Even with the brain churn, for the first time in my life, I am completely and totally relaxed and at peace. I have no desire whatsoever to work, though. Which is bad. And completely unlike me. You know me. Dishwasher me. Hallmark me. Subway me. Waitress me. Starbucks me. Intern me. Tutor me. Contemporary Art Marketer me. I really should feel a pressing need to start working immediately, as sooner or later all the money we’ve saved up to have while here will go “poof.” I’ve applied for a lot of things, but there is nothing here that I really have my heart set on. I can’t tutor here, because their grammatical-style is SO crazy different from ours. Really. Signs here, I read them and think: Why did no one proof read that? But no. That is just how the language is used here. And if I taught American-style, I would contribute to my students’ poor marks. So I’ve been applying for random things I see, trying to get in with a temp. company. But this week alone (and it’s only WEDNESDAY!), I flaked out on two jobs.
On Monday I had a job interview with a huge marketing company. I was offered a job as a “Sales Associate” (whatever that means), but when they told me the hours would be from 11 am to 10:00 pm, I was completely horrified. There was no way I was going to spend my year abroad like that! But I smiled and nodded and acted like a corporate tool.
After the interview from corporate hell, I stumbled into called Cafe Wander. I ordered a delicious cappuccino, cuddled up in a corner, and closed my eyes listening to Belle and Sebastian play on the stereo. Before I knew it, I was begging the owner for a job because “I just got back from a hideous job interview in the corporate world and all I
want is an easy job where the days fly and the people are nice.” The owner laughed and hired me on the spot. My first and last day was to be Tuesday.The shift was perfect. 7 am-3 pm 5 days a week. I would make sandwiches in the cafe. I could have all weekend to hike. I would have afternoons to write. I would not have to think about anything. I could have had all of this if it weren’t for my blasted Vaso Vagal Syncope.
So it’s Tuesday and I’m at my First Day at Cafe Wander and I’m having fun making all these weird, mildly-revolting Scottish sandwiches (savory mayonnaise and cheese, brown pickle and roast beef, egg
mayonnaise and bacon–mind you all of the sandwiches are also SLATHERED in butter), when it starts to get hot in the cafe. I mean no-ventilation-smells -like-pickled-herring-and-prawns-swimming-in-milky-pink-mayo-water-hot. I start to get dizzy. I race to the bathroom, lock the door, and in moments, I am passed out on the bathroom floor.God knows how much time passes, and I wake in a puddle of cold sweat and look in the mirror. I am pale, pasty, and my hair is wet with sweat. Given no other options, I shakily emerge from the rest room,looking like I just popped in for a quick heroin injection.
Perhaps it wouldn’t have been so bad if this happened once, but it happened TWICE. Needless to say, I didn’t go back today. I have no desire to work in a place where the people think I have a serious drug
problem and I can barley hang on to consciousness in. Even if it is called the very fitting Cafe Wander.So that’s two jobs I’ve flaked out on this week. I’ve applied to more, but in my heart of hearts, I only want to write and have fun. (I say this, but I still have yet ANOTHER interview for a lame-o call center
job tomorrow morning.) No worries. I’ll get it together. It’s just all so fresh still!
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When have you been too happy to work?
Comments (5)
Oh dang! You passed out twice. Holy cow. That smell and temp combo had me reeling a bit myself. Hey, you did get a job and you did it in the coolest of ways: dissing corporate slavitude! Yeehaw! And I don’t think anyone would blame you for not going back to Cafe Wander, well, at least not to work there. The English certification will come in handy too. You are making the best of the time. Hey, you could do sort like that thing Morgan Spurlock did and explore jobs for a set period of time. Or maybe that is just crazy. It would make for good reading though. See how selfish I can be? Oh you will find something if you keep at it the way you are.But you don’t want to! That is making me smile for you right now. Here’s hoping that you find work that doesn’t feel like work and feeds your soul.I have not been too happy to work…yet. But I hope someday to be .Lucky e-mail recipient and lucky us too.Be well!
I am definately too happy to work right now! Even though I am on my last 10 pounds. Scary! I’m sorry u passed out and I’m sorry it was sofreaking hot in there!
I cannot believe Xanga ate my comment. And I’m too lazy to write all of it up again.I am always happy to work, but not to work in an office.RYC: yes, it was a major, major storm. Hail and everything. It seemed to go on forever and the cats were scared out of their wits.Lynn
Right now!! I’m looking for work right now, but truth be told, I’m really enjoying not working. I’m getting to write, work on craft projects, hang out with Chelsea, play frisbee, enjoy free time… it’s bad. Very, very bad! I went from having absolutely NO free time EVER to having it all the time, and I love it, unfortunately. Fortunately (or un-), I NEED to get a job VERY SOON so at least I’ll have a kick in the rear end to knock me out of my reverie. But it was a great summer and I’m very anxiously looking forward to retirement…once I get a job, that is.Sorry about passing out twice, bummer! But I’m really glad you didn’t have to stay in the “no-ventilation-smells -like-pickled-herring-and-prawns-swimming-in-milky-pink-mayo-water-hot” environment for too long. That would be hell! And I bet you don’t come home from work smelling particularly delightful when you have a job like that.
ryc: Thank you for that. I found myself nodding at what you wrote. Those quirks are gifts and imperfection is sexy. I understand The Defender role too. And you made me think that that is probably why I share the same penchant for the thoughtful brainy ones. Though with that initial protection and since, it is more about keeping a kind of private joy. More of a safe keeping even though it was erroneous at that start. As if when and if those quirky gifts are given to me then I want to do my best to make sure that I take gentle care with them as it is a privelege to know them.Also what you said about never knowing really if someone is serially monogamous or why struck home too. Dealing with disappointment in healthy ways is always going to be critical in an ambiguous world. And, the more I read of your mother the more of a character she becomes in my mind as well as you. I can just picture the young Defender and it is heartwarming too. You have such a unique story. I do so love reading about it. Thank you!