The Days Ahead

Today is my first day at my new job.

My first *full* day. I've had 2 weeks of training, half-days, shadow days, tests, desk-set up, and other rigmarole. Today I start my regular (until January) shift. I've decorated the small shelf in my half-cube with a golden Homer/Buddah, a happy Harley Quinn, some plastic white tigers, and Makoto Kino (better known as Sailor Jupiter). Happy faces I can look at until I get a photo of Bahamute.

See?

I remembered my lunch, my ID badge, and my shift time. I arrived with more than enough time to write, drink cocoa, and ease into my day.

So far, so good.

The floor is quiet: most shifts start later, like mine. Gives me my much-craved solitude. I'm going to like this slow start to the day.

Now, to get all my pointless internetting done before I need to be productive. Better hurry.

AHHHHHHHHHH

So, yesterday I wrestled a large dog onto the X-Ray table. Today I woke with pain so bad I could barely get out of bed.

Accurate!

Thanks to a light workday, Motrin, and a heating pad, I'm still at work and 90% pain free. We even had a delicious chicken lunch dropped off as a holiday thank-you from one of the pet rescues we work with.

Love only makes it taste better

In other news, our car is in the shop because of brake pad issues, and it'll either be $350 or $620 to fix. At least I've already bought the Christmas presents (and by the time this goes up Christmas will be over). Yaaaaaay. 

Just another day in the life of a normal American. There's good, bad, unexpected surprises, gains, and losses. This started as a post about pain but the other things that happened before I could finish writing changed it. A moment is all that is needed for a bad day to become good, or a good day to even out. That's pretty cool.

But here's a pain that's always with me:

Tails from the Vet: Kitten (in)Fluxx with a TWIST

Today we got a common call: a animal had been found abandoned. What was unusual was the sheer amount: eight kittens TAPED into a box, and left in the park. Sadly, only six had survived the (estimated) three days they'd been left in the cold. My coworker advised the person who found them to bring them in and we'd find a shelter to take them: we normally don't take strays, but this wasn't a normal circumstance.

The six kittens were already eating and drinking by the time I got to see them (I was stuck in a drug rep meeting at time of arrival). It was a pile of black, gray, and tuxedo kittens about two months old. A 'Meow-ntin' my other coworker said (give her a break, she's expecting). I spent the last part of the day cuddling the foundlings, who were bright-eyed and alert. A very good sign.

Even more good news: a shelter is going to take the kittens, and one already has a home! They are all adorable, so they'll have no trouble getting adopted.

As happy as I am for their ending, I can't get over the fact that someone not only threw these cats away, they ensured they'd die in that box. What the hell is wrong with people? It's actually how I got my first cat when I was a kid: we found a tiny kitten thrown away in a paper bag near a frozen lake. She lived a long and happy life with us, but only by sheer chance.

To the sick individual who abandoned those eight kittens: Fuck you. I hope you feel pain every day. I hope you never know six of those cats are warm and happy and loved. I hope you feel guilty forever.

I know it's not as bad as murder, or abuse of humans, or any number of things, but I won't back down about how wrong and sick this is. At least these cats will have a happy ending.

----
UPDATE!!!!
----
Good news Bad News time:
Good news: There were never any frozen kittens, nor did these kittens spend three days in the cold in a box. Bad news: Because the woman who called us STRAIGHT UP LIED. They were HER kittens and the shelters wouldn't otherwise take them. This was found because one kitten had a mustache-like mark under it's nose, and the shelter that took them had already seen the kittens.

Some people.

Tails from the Vet: Cat$hit crazy

When a cat projectile shitting up a wall is the high point, you know it's a bad day.

Thanks internet.

Okay, it was only a comparatively high point during the final hour of work, but I'm getting ahead of myself. 

Yesterday I had a slow day, according to the books. A few neuters (one of the easiest surgeries), my cat was coming in for her checkup (she behaved herself and was cuddled) and a few other random things. No biggie. Even when the day became super busy, my college and I found free periods where we watched 90% of last year's Carrie remake. It was fine, by the by.

Then...THEY came.

I took a phone call from a woman with a sick kitten. Being a concerned tech (with almost an hour to kill before the night ended) I advised her we were open and to bring it in.

I can't go into specifics lest I be discovered, but this woman was crazy. She smelled. Her mom smelled. The kitten smelled. The WHOLE CLINIC smelled. My pregnant coworker had to excuse herself, lest she vomit on the clients.

Then after the kitten was helped, THE WOULDN'T GO. I'd gotten my wish in a monkey's-paw way; the last hour was vanishing, but in a haze of stink and insanity. This woman was the definition of a crazy cat lady; many cats that stunk, but were well taken care of so we couldn't call anyone.

Things degenerated after the doctor got caught leaving his office; a rant about black people murdering another vet if he became a detective. Why didn't we have the brand of food another vet had. Why didn't we tape our cards to the medicine packs. I can't remember everything, nor do I want to.

By the time they left we had juuuust enough time to do our closing tasks and spray some air freshener. We did everything short of calling in a priest to rid the clinic of that smell.

But you know what? IT STILL BEATS WORKING FOR MY LAST BOSS! HAHAHAHHAAA!

Huh

Tomorrow is Saturday (No, you're not time traveling, I write in advance. We've been over this). I will be at my job, helping a family grieve over a wife and mother not quite one year older than me, with several young kids.

I'd dealt with a lot in my life. I lost my father five years ago last Monday, after an unexpected illness. The only thing I can say is that I got twenty two years with him. I wouldn't trade a moment of it, and I'd give a lot to get him back.

Still too young to die, but at least he'd lived quite a few decades.

This is the second time I've worked on a funeral for someone my age. The first was the first funeral I ever worked, a young man who took his life. We would have gone to high school and graduated together if I hadn't changed school systems. We may have gone to sixth grade together, but his name didn't ring any bells. I wasn't really phased: he'd been sick, and into a lot of drugs.

I don't want to be at work tomorrow.

Aside from the personal tragedy, the crying children, the relatives...No.

No aside. No complaining about how tired I am from this hellish week. No bitching about work.

I'm not always happy about what I do. But 90% of the time, it's an older person with a long life and kids, grandkids, etc. It feels better.

This feels rotten.

Five things nobody tells you about working at a funeral home

A few months ago, I landed my current job at a local funeral home. I'm an office manager, not somebody who touches the dead people. That is the first question I get after the 'eww' reaction. Here are a few things I've learned working here.

5. Dead people liven things up.

     I work in a small funeral home owned and operated by a larger corporation. No big deal. Most funeral homes aren't Mom and Pop organizations, what with the heavy regulations and fierce competition. But since my location is smaller and not as fancy, we don't get as many funerals. Consequently, things are dead in here. Figuratively. 

At least two days a week, I never see another employee. And most days, people just stop by to grab something real quick and head out again. I have to record everything I do on a log to prove that I'm actually working, since most of my forerunners just goofed off.

Funerals make all the difference.There's extra cleaning, chairs to be dragged out, and families to deal with. It's a lot like a out of town visit when you're a kid: new food comes in, you have to look your best, and crawl out of your bedroom in order to greet people.

4. We're not all dour undertakers.

No, not even close.

     

     One of the Funeral Directors (the guys in suits who take you money and empty dead people's fluids, among other things) I work with is in his mid twenties. This guy is constantly grinning and joking around. And he's not alone. We don't make jokes about the bodies, or play Weekend at Bernies, but it's not by any means all business all the time. 

One example: once my HR manager and said director spent a few hours figuring out their employees 'catchphrases.' Mine was 'I gotcha'.

Could be worse.

3. There is so much freaking paperwork.

     "But Rebecca" you say (because most of you don't know my real name, and I'm not dumb enough to attach it to this), "of COURSE there's paperwork. The government and doctors need to make sure everybody's dead, otherwise we get an Edgar Allen Poe sequel."

True, a lot of the paperwork is about making sure the decedent is who we think, they're where we think, and that all permits and regulations are followed. What you don't think about is the massive amounts of printing, billing, checklists, more checklists, and enough mail to choke a horse. I filled a notepad just dealing with the paperwork aspects. Never mind customer service: they assumed I could do that, no problem. But filing an order for a casket? We spent a DAY on that, and I'm still not fully trained.

2. Dead people can be anywhere.

     The office supply room is in the basement. The casket display is also in the basement. So is the embalming room. On two separate occasions I've gone for post-its and been faced with an un-embalmed body in the office supply area. Both times I fled back upstairs, totally freaked. It's not against regulations, unsanitary, unsafe, or a violation of the decedent in any way.

It's just creepy as fuck.

I've stumbled across embalming photos on computers, people with plastic wrap on their faces waiting for the makeup and hair lady (an amazing woman who was a funeral director in the sixties when women were just barely getting past the MRS. degree), and a host of other freaky things. Once they're casketed and on display, my issues fade. But that doesn't hold a candle to the last surprise.

1. Haunting are no big deal.

Booo or whatever.

     At least, to me. I hear phantom footsteps and voices all day when I'm alone. I figured it was my imagination, until another director heard them too. We went down to investigate, and nobody was there. 

The weirdest thing that's happened is one day, I kept getting urges to check the window, when I'd either just checked, or wasn't due for a while. Each time I saw a delivery van, or my boss coming in. I was able to greet them and looked like a model employee. 

"So what?" You ask. So a little later I was downstairs after hearing another voice. Three feet in front of me, I heard a distinctly male voice say "Muuuuhhhh."

It ain't Shakespeare, but who am I to judge? I went to the door, and yep, a delivery AND my boss. 

The ghost seems to be the former owner of this place, who lived here when it was a house. He stays downstairs, make little noise (I've been tricked down a few times when nobody's there), and seems benign to benevolent. Hell, I have worse living neighbors.

The rest of the staff is disturbed by my encounters, so I've learned to keep mum unless asked directly. As for me, the bodies freak me out much more than a ghost. Ghosts I deal with pretty well.

But that's another story.

People are Dying to get out

I just found out that they went through 4 people in a year in my position at work.

Eep.

Now, it's not an easy job. There's a LOT to learn, especially about how to properly document things. Last night I was at work for an extra hour and a half (paid) putting in a late contract. I had no plans, so I was just very tired and hungry when I got home.

But I learned how to do it properly.

Today is my day off. Sucks because it's the only day this week Bahamute works for sure (he got called in last night, and was gone before I got home).

All in all, still really excited about the job. But tired. But hopeful.

Also, small side note, I LEARNED HOW TO USE A WORD PROCESSOR. It's awesome. I might get to type up death certificates!

In other news, going to go spend an hour on the phone so I can prove I'm me and get healthcare. Yaaaaay.

Achievement Unlocked: First Week at New Job Completed!

So, it's official: I work at several local funeral homes.

And it is kinda awesome.

For those of you who regularly read my blog, you'll know I was out of work for about two months prior to this, so even a part time job is a step up. Now, I find myself an office Manager for a small funeral home literally TWO MINUTES from my house (and a fill in for two others,slightly farther away).



As for the actual job, let me answer your big questions:

NO, I don't do anything with bodies. It takes years of training to do anything with them. The closest I've come to a body was going down to the supply room, which is next to where they store/work on bodies. Perhaps slightly creepy, but it doesn't bother me.

YES, part of my job is working funeral services, if they need me. This will involve showing people where to hang up coats, and answering simple questions. More like being a hostess than anything yes.

NO, it's not creepy. My office is upstairs, and used to be a house. It has PLUS PINK CARPET for Pete's sake!

Pictured: Office Cuteness Level

So, what do I actually do, you ask. Well, A LOT. I take payments, enter payments, enter bills, put in contract info/change contract info, take checks to the banks, do the mail, and about a hundred other things for which I'm training on the computer. So, general office manager stuff, with a VERY sharp learning curve. My supervisor says I'm doing really well, but at the end of some days I can't even think straight. I feel kinda dumb.

But not this dumb.

The people are all really nice, and very upbeat. No dour old undertakes in my offices. One of the Funeral Directors, let's call him Art, is about my age, and pretty much the least serious individual I've ever met. It took me aback, but they're all dead professional (ha ha, pun) with the families.

A few little oddities have abounded. I'm apparently the only one with an English degree (not surprising, it's not field related), but have not become known for using big words that have to be explained. Words like 'Preemptive' and 'Jubilant'.  I'm also the comma and apostrophe editor, and have been asked about minor wording issues on service materials, like obituaries and programs.

All in all, I like the job, but I wish I could go six months into the future and pluck all the knowledge and experience out of my head, and bring it back here. I understand how to do things: now just comes memorization.

On an unrelated topic, pretty sure the house ghost/presence is acting up again, as a music box that quite literally hasn't been touched in years went off while Bahamute and I played Minecraft last night (among other things). Cheers!

And sweet dreams.

The (Job) Hunter Games: The first Day is Nigh

Monday I officially start my new job at a local funeral home. Extremely local. Literally 2 minutes from my home (unless I'm at one of the other two locations). And not a bit two soon. My greenback stack is getting kinda slack, to borrow a Flanders-ism.

Wise words.

So, what does this mean for the future? Well, my free time will be back to pre-unemployment levels, and I'm okay with that. Just the prospect of getting a job got me working on my manuscripts and Wedding stuff. So actually having less time will make me more motivated. Or so the past has shown.

Other than that...Well, I don't know yet. I'll know more after Monday; how things work, what I'm expected to do daily, all that good stuff. I'm super excited.

In other news, I'm in day five of the week long separation from my fiancee, AKA his Florida vacation. In coming years when my employment situation is solid, I'll be able to join him. For now, just slogging through the last few cold days. At least I've been busy addressing invitation. Super fun.

Well, gotta go: I'm heading out for a brief visit with an apparently adorable bulldog. :D PUPPY!

Just a quickie

As I'm getting ready to go fill in paperwork for my new job, this blog will just be a quickie. But here are some things I'll cover in the future (and soon, Job, weather, and writing permitting):

Tumblr: I'm hooked. More on the story as it develops.

Sherlock Series 3: Waiting for the apparently trauma-inducing 'His Last Vow' to air before writing this.

Insidious 2: I don't own it yet, but I will soon. Review to follow.

Life and death and money: once I've worked a shift or two at the funeral homes, I'll have more info.

Teaching acting: Gonna propose this as a side job to a local theater owner I have an in with. Much discussion of business plans and models and tax codes and curriculum to follow. If I can make it interesting.

And about a thousand other things. Lately, my creative side has bounced back big-time. Guess I need the pressure of knowing I have a job and structured times where I can or cannot write and be creative. But until then, I'm sorry for the lack of real blogs and updates.

Well, gotta go put my face on and edit another manuscript chapter. Ahh, manic stages. Eases the pain.

The (Job) Hunger Games: the odds were in my favor.

I'm employed.

Next week I'll be working part-time two days a week, and on call for 6, at three local funeral homes.

If you read my last blog, you'll already know my feelings on working at a funeral home. 

I'm so happy to be employed again, even if it is part time. Essentially, it depends on how many people need their services. So, here's hoping for booming business!

Not that I want more people to die.

Practically, it means a few life-style changes. No more going to sleep at 2am. Not as much time to mess around Tumblr and Tickled. I won't be able to cook and clean like I (mostly) have been.

But I think this is just what I need to get writing again. I'd always feel the drive to write when I was at work, ideas flying into my head. Then, I'd go home and sort them out. This might just get me motivated again.

And if not, at least I'll have some money coming in. Even part-time is better than nothing.

So, next week, it starts. Thank you to everyone who helped me, and wished me luck over the last month and a half. And don't expect these blogs to stop: it's only part time, after all.

For now.

The (Job) Hunter Games: DoA?

Well Maria, you always said I'd wind up working at that funeral home in Keego. And now, it may be coming true.

Let me back up a bit.

A long time ago, when proto-hominids walked the earth, and my friend Maria lived 10 minutes away, I was in high school.

I'm not that old. I'm not even as old as this poster!

Well, near my home there's a small funeral home. None of my relations were ever memorialized there, and I've never been in the place. But I pass it every day. It's literally a half-hour walk from my home, and even closer to where my friend Maria used to live. We saw it every day in high school.

And with my fascination with all things dead and dreary, Maria would joke "You should work there!"

I only have 122 horror movies on this shelf ALONE (the tall one).

I would laugh and smile, but didn't take it seriously. I was going to college. I was going to be a teacher. I didn't need to work so close to home!

Now I've applied for a part time job there. My teaching aspirations are long since tucked away (no regrets there, not in this job market), and a part-time position with on-call possibilities sounds like a great way to get back into being employed.

I'm an approachable person, I'd like to think. The kind somebody would feel free to talk to if they have a question or an issue. I think that would translate well to the memorial industry. I've been to enough of them: I know the atmosphere of quiet dignity and grace. I think I could do that.

I think I could help.

I'm not gonna bring you down much longer, promise.

That's what it really comes down to, in all the positions I've had. Help. Help answering questions, approaching hard to approach people, finding a table, finding a file, getting drinks, getting figures, getting the right info to the right people. I can help. I am a good helper. I am a person to ask for help.

I miss that. I've been unemployed long enough to miss things besides the money. I miss people. I miss getting them answers and hearing 'thank you'. I miss being helpful.

I don't know if being helpful is 'What God put me on this earth to do', or anything that lofty/pretentious. But there are a lot worse ways I could spend my time here.

So. I'm off to seek jobs, post silly pictures, and clean the house. Maybe it'll help someone, maybe not. 

Maybe it'll just help me.

Post-Christmas Non Hangover

Usually after Christmas I'm a wreck, just coming off all the joy and adrenaline and stress and awfulness and wonderfulness that's wrapped up in the holiday.

This year, everything is moving at a glacial pace, and I'm ecstatic.

So far I've spent my days hanging at Grizz's house with his family, watching TV, eating pizza rolls, and playing World of Darkness (like D&D, more vampires and faeries). This is what we all should get after the holidays: time to recover. A vacation from the vacation. I know I'm not the first to say it, but it's still a great idea.

If I could just stop having nightmares about not being prepared for the wedding, it'd be perfect. That and the end of the world. But that's pretty normal for me. Zombies. Nameless monsters with yellow eyes and my friends faces. Normal. For me.

So, back to blogging, applying for jobs (a few interviews and such are coming up, hooray!) and writing. Started the morning with a rejection letter from a flash-fiction site. Well. At least I submitted something. It's a step forwards. 

What's on the agenda for today? Maybe seeing The Hobbit with the family. Maybe more. Maybe something worth writing about that doesn't make me sound lazy and spoiled. Well. Besides my in-character notes from gaming last night. That felt good. Very good.

I'll keep this short, as most people besides me are busy. Happy holiday hangover. Hope this helps:

A Green Christmas for me?

Or rather, a green post Christmas, perhaps. I have a possible job starting in January with a local school district, and an interview being set up with a local irrigation company in a week or so! I'm very excited about the 2nd one, as they reached out to me, and the location is closer. Here's hoping!

All I really want for Christmas is a new job. And this stylish piggy bank!

In other news, SAVING MR. BANKS is AMAZING.

I went with Bahamute and another friend. Bahamute and I cried. A lot. But it was good crying. He just sat there muttering 'Stupid Tom Hanks.' I said 'It's fine to cry if it's Tom Hanks. It's like how it's not gay if you're attracted to a 10 of your own sex. They're just so good, you can't help it.'

He didn't think that was as funny as I did.

Other than that, it's been pretty quiet around here. Today is gonna be a real house-wifey day: cooking and cleaning. Baking for Christmas, really. I have a super Jam-Thumbprint cookie recipe that I may share with you all in the near future.

Not much else to report. I'll have to do something more interesting today than a Narnia movie marathon.

Psst. Special kudos if you're here from my Tumblr: over 100 followers! :D

The (Job) Hunter Games: One Month

It's been one month since my internship at the law firm ended. In that time I've applied for over 35 jobs, had two interviews (one with the County, one with a local school district), and a few small pet sitting things. I've eaten into my saving set aside specifically for the purpose, but I'm not out of money just yet.

I've learned to cook, bake, and scrape together a good meal with stuff around the house. I've worked on a few writing projects, cleaned a bit, and lost a little weight due to not wasting money on snacks and fast food.  I read books on how to interview, write a resume, and a cover letter; I have a few more checked out on screenwriting. If it wasn't for the money issue, I'd be perfectly happy to be a homemaker.

I feel ambition-less. You can only clean, cook, apply for jobs, and write so much before you run into a wall. Or at least, I can only do those things so much. I feel guilty when I see my fiancee go to work, and I'm at home doing so very little. I always try to have something to show him when he arrives: a newly-cleaned spot, a home-cooked meal, a blog post or youtube video. Anything to show I'm not just sitting here, being lazy while he works.

Guilty. That's how I feel. He's working and I'm here...doing this. This week I've got a pet and house sitting gig: the money is paying for our Christmas presents to the rest of the family. At least I can do that much.

He knows how I feel, and we're talking about it. But nothing is going to make me fell better. Not until I start bringing in income again. I've been the financial head of the family since my Dad died in 2009. I've had a job since the age of 16. I'm over the novelty of time off. I want to work again.

For today, it's back to applying, reading up on how to better present my resume, and pet-sitting with two adorable huskies. Maybe I'll even do a little more writing. 

The (Job) Hunter Games, Day 1

Well, my first day of joblessness is off to a smashing start. So far I've

1. Watched an episode of Star Trek TNG

Star Date: -309119.1459601725. My back hurts and I'm cold.

2. Cleaned the bathroom.

Too bad I'm not Catholic.

3. Scheduled a job interview with the County in two weeks.

And a few assorted other things, making lunch for Bahamute, etc. But I'd say day one is off to a good start.

Now, the County thing is by no means assured, but I feel a lot better having this interview than not. I passed the first part of the screening process a week or two ago, and now go on to an interview and a typing test. Well, you remember I just picked up some books that may help, and have an abundance of time to bring up my typing speed. It's not too shabby right now, thanks to NaNoWriMo, and this blog.

So, that just leaves the rest of the day.

Well, I still have to finish my 1666 words for NaNoWriMo. Yesterday, thanks to Spamalot, I found myself two days behind. I made up, writing over 3k over the course of the day, in between killing Orks.

It's just like this.

My house is in desperate need of cleaning, so every day I'm not paid, I'll be working to get the house in order. I will keep myself busy. I will keep to a schedule and not let myself sleep all day, just because I can. It'd be far, far to easy to let myself be slothful during this time. That would only lead to despair.

Well, I'm off to work on the novel, take care of the neighbor's dogs, and begin work on another room...maybe the loft (aka Harley's person room, stay out Humans). Wish me luck, internet. 

Jobless

For the first time in my adult life, I don't have a job.

Since I was a little girl I had some form of job: mostly letting the neighborhood dogs out and feeding them. This progressed to house and pet sitting, as well as more conventional jobs: student assistant at my community college, waitressing, hostessing, coat-check girl for some of the best places in Detroit. The usual.

I've seen things that make him look like Mr. Rogers

When my father died, I got out of the restaurant business: he didn't want me working in Detroit without him. As a literal dying wish, I haven't gone back to the city for a job since 2009. I spent a few years in a warehouse working my way through college. I got my BA in English, and found an internship at a local law firm, hoping to move on to full-time staff.

Well, my internship has ended, and I am sans employment.

At least nobody died this time

I've been the financial head of my household since my father went into the hospital. Long before then, he'd taught me to save. I have a bit in the bank, but with my upcoming wedding, that won't last too long. Am I panicked? No. Not yet. But I want to find a new job as soon as possible. My fiance, Bahamute, is gainfully employed with a certain Game store you may Stop at occasionally, and my Mom will be getting disability starting next month. We'll get by.

So, here I am, sitting in my local library, with a pile of books, trying to figure out my future. "What to do with you English or Communications Degree." "The Five Minute Interview." "The Complete Idiot's Guides to the Perfect Resume." They are well used, and hopefully helpful.

But a few unorthodox books are in my stack as well. "How to Start a home-based Writing Business"and "The Complete Book of Scriptwriting", written by J. Michael Straczynski, or the man behind the 3 good seasons of "The Real Ghostbusters" cartoon. Hey, if he's good enough for the Ghostbusters, he's good enough for me!

It's no secret I want to write (well, except from my family). I'm working on a project for NaNoWriMo, as well as a pilot for a TV show, a short story, and a supernatural thriller trilogy, the first book of which is written.  But as I have at least a week of free time in my future, I'll have a lot more time to devote to these projects. If it's a choice between writing and cleaning, I may have a few finished projects and a very neat bathroom by the end of all this.

I'm so very very scared.

Whelp, time to get going: I have a show tonight, and...I have no idea what happens next.

A wild source of income has appeared! Rebecca uses CONTRACT! It's super effective!

Yes, true believers, I have a new source of income. I'll be recording audio books for Novel Publicity. So far I have 3 upcoming contracts. "Walk Away with Me" by Darby Davenport is the first, and as for the other two...well, those will be a surprise. Suffice to say, I'm excited to be a part of the voice-acting industry after long having been an aficionado.

Wish me luck!

What do you do, when the you is I?

I just got a two hour "Reasons I suck speech" from my boss. Second day in a row. And I know what you're thinking: you're blogging at work, clearly you DO suck. I don't blame you for assuming that.

I spend 50% of my day on hold. So, when I blog it's not taking time away from work: hell, I never go on breaks because of my hold time! So, no, that is not why I suck.

I suck because the file clerk I hired isn't a good telemarketer. She's an excellent file clerk and made my job easier to do by 1000%, but that's a luxury we can't afford. So that's my fault.

I suck because I'm getting married next year, I went on an approved three day vacation, and can't remember offhand the details of every one of our 350+ files when I am asked. Because I'm thinking about the marriage. Clearly.

I suck because I 'Only have two friends, and I hired them both to work here.'

I suck because I haven't been in this business for fifteen years, so I don't understand the nuances of finance like my boss does.

I suck because when the previous manager died of a heart attack I couldn't do everything she could. Still can't.

What do you do with a B.A. in English, assorted positions at prestigious restaurants, and a year's experience at a law firm? Please tell me. I need to get out of here. I'm in a bad place right now. A very bad place.

Job market

Whelp, I've walked the stage, and in two to three months, I'll get my degree in the mail. For now, I'm busy applying for jobs. I'm centering my search on jobs at OU--I'd love to be an office assistant, or library aid.

I'm also officially halfway done with my book! I figure at this pace, I should be finished by summer. Here's hoping...