Cafe Hitch-hike

2004-04-08

Fongool this!

I left my univ.lib job early yesterday and then totally bailed on the pub.lib where I was to make an appearance later in the day. I usually work every other day at the pub.lib, but this week I was scheduled Monday through Friday because it will be closed for the Easter weekend. The brilliant mother-fuckers of the library board decided to trim money and not give holiday pay, so we must work all of our scheduled hours within the days the library is open.

I read a job opening on the listserv for a well-paying special library job here in the Motor City. Its requirements may has well had read something like this:

Qualifications:

1. Must be able to create lifeforms.

2. Must be fluent in at least 2 modern foreign languages.

3. Must be fluent in at least 3 dead languages, preferrably each from different continents.

4. Must be be proficient in business administration, tap-dancing, ballet, juggling, flambe cooking, and Microsoft Office XP.

5. Must know XML, ColdFusion, Dreamweaver, Flash, C++, Medieval Spanish, and Cantonese.

Reading this freaking job description made a vein pop in my head (to paraphrase Mary from yesterday) and a few neurons in my frontal lobe burned.

Meanwhile, in the next cubicle, two librarians were bitching about the lack of guidance concerning the CAT terminals. One of them was known to be pretty even-keeled, so she must have been very angry to go off like that.

Everything was cooking around me. My job opportunities were nil. I was hating my work schedule for this week, I was feeling bleak, just terribly bleak, but my head was ready to explode, or I was going to cry.

I asked my bosses for a reprieve and it was granted. I promptly went home. I called the supervisor at the pub.lib and just said, "dizzyiness, nausea, general flu-like symptoms. I better stay home." It was my first sick day in the 5 months I worked there.

I went home and slept. Just plain slept. I could've slept all day, but John called. He stopped by the pub.lib but I guess they told him I was out for the day. He needed a ride from his parents' house to the garage where he left his car to be fixed.

What a difference tons of sleep made on me. I was alert for him. I was engaging in our conversations about colonialism, capitalism, and Spanish imperialism. I was responsive. It is a change from the day after one or two 12-hour workdays.

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I felt so upset because I didn't pursue my education to be a slave to my profession. Before I began grad school, I worked 2 jobs and had freelance jobs on the side. My typical work week was 55 hours! I was tired of working myself like a dog! I was hoping to progress to a career where I wouldn't have such ridiculous demands! Guess what? That's pretty much where I am now!

Back in EL-Town, one of my friends told me that I couldn't work to live and live to work. Christ, if it weren't for John right now, I would be doing exactly that!

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So here I am, back at work this morning. I dressed nicely, and Big Boss commented that it was a mood stabilzer for me. Yes. That, and I had nothing clean to wear. He's getting to know me too well.

I am planning a vacation to Florida in May. As with most vacations, I plan to take them in fits like I just described, that is, when I feel on edge and like I just want to drop every job of mine, and tell the world to just fuck off.

Well, it's going to be the week of May 15, when the Old Farmer's Almanac says rain is in the forecast.

What the hell? I just need a change.

downwind | upstream