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Sunday, May 10, 2009
I have discovered a new facet about myself. If I sit long enough, with my Bose headphones on, listening to any good alternative rock, especially something with an electro beat, like She Wants Revenge or Cage The Elephant or even NIN, then it doesn't matter how tired I am. I will hang in there for hours, listening to stuff that I'm pretty sure my mother told me would damage my hearing, or maybe rot my brain. Too late. Rotten brain achieved. Speaking of things your mother told you, and remembering that I don't have another segue, I noticed on the Cialis commercials that they issue these medical disclaimers, you know, don't take it with nitrates for chest pain, don't take it if you're pregnant, use only as directed, all that, and they tell you that you should call your doctor if you have an erection lasting more than four hours, and that you could experience sudden decreases in hearing or vision. So I figure there was something to all that "stop it or you'll go blind" stuff, after all. Hmm, right now the station I'm listening to has switched to Iggy Pop. Too bad all I ever hear of Iggy any more reminds me of a Carnival cruise commercial. Dude, you need to be listening to x1fm.com. They're playing Band of Skulls now. It's pretty wicked. But I have noticed this evening that they seem to have run out of professional dj's. There's some idiot there doing what can best be described as a "shitty job" of announcing. He's picking some kick-ass music, though. If he's doing that on his own, great, somebody teach him how to talk on a microphone. If he's just playing a list someone handed him, they need to get him back to his janitor job asap. Cleanup on aisle six. Speaking of cleanup and aisle and shitty jobs, I'm still employed. After 16 glorious years with the company, I am happy and fatally embarrassed to report that I am now working for an immediate supervisor who is literally young enough to be my son. If I had kids. As kids go, he's really a pretty good kid. I should clarify. I'm not embarrassed to be working for a younger person. I'm embarrassed that I'm being given worklists. That I'm wearing a name tag. That I go get carts from the parking lot. That I sweep the floor. I have to admit that the other night, I deliberately didn't sweep the floor at closing. I rebelled. What a rebel. What a pathetic rebellion. They have beaten me. I just looked back at something, and found that I wrote about two years ago that I would beat these bastards. I have not. I have lost. Not lost, like losing a game. Lost, like lost control over my life. I watched The Shawshank Redemption last night, for about the umpteenth time. I have always had a fear in life of going to prison. I don't mean that I have led a life full of behavior that cuold have gotten me sent away, but I admit, too, that there have been things in my life that could have resulted in that, had outcomes or breaks gone one way or another. But there are things we all hide that scare us. Prison would be one of mine. I have thought about it more than a few times. I couldn't handle it. I would not make it alive from the courthouse to the jail. I am sure of it. So when I've seen that movie in the past, I always identified with Andy from that viewpoint. The long years of frustration Andy endured, how he seemed to be defeated, how he gains his hope again, and wins in the end. Well, last night I began to think about it in terms of work. I guess I identify that frustration with my work situation. I feel just as trapped as a man in a prison. I can't go anywhere else. I'm older. I'm fat. I have enough chronic diseases, diabetes, heart disease, that I absolutely cannot be without health coverage, so I can't just quit. One Week Later. I wrote and wrote a week ago about how miserable it all is. I was all set to post it to a blog, and was ready to keep on writing about my miserable existence. I finally stopped, because as bad as it is, I was dragging myself even lower. So here we are, a week gone by. Did I read back over this and come to some realization about myself? Nah. I still feel the same about it all. I think I get a little wierded out sometimes, but overall I agree with what's been said before. I still hate my job. I think I will until it ends. My real fear right now is that I'll speak the end into existence. There's a Bible verse that says we are snared by the words of our tongue. I have heard motivational speakers talk about speaking things into existence. I'm afraid that I will do that. I have hated this job for a long time, at least a couple of years. Yet, the people I work for, if you ask them, would probably tell you that my job performance is good, at minimum. (I was one of the top producers at what I do in the district, and region, for the last two years.) They don't know that I hate it because I never say it. I keep that attitude well hidden at work, and never, never talk about it. I will not give them any reason to suspect that I think they are idiots. I just work harder. So while all this work is getting done, I keep everything repressed, never telling them what's really on my mind. I know it's killing me, but I am certain that this course of action has kept me employed. As I said before, I have to have a job. By speaking this out, however, I fear that I am letting the genie out of the bottle, throwing out words that will lead to my dismissal from said company, either under my own volition or not. I'm putting it out there for the universe to act on. So I have decided to post this. Getting some of it off my chest is worth the chance I'm taking. Maybe, in the end, I'll be happier.
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