LIBRA HOROSCOPE (from astrology.com): This is not the time to add any work to your list. If your boss, mate or teammates try to get you to start on something new, do whatever it takes to let them know how crazy you feel already!
Laura’s Log:
I’m being punished by my temp agency. This is the third day in a row when I haven’t had work. No doubt it’s because of my unfortunate reaction to caffeine at the funeral home. Did Theodore overreact and give the agency an earful? Probably. I guess he’s not used to that much life in his line of work. But I don’t mean to blame him. I am Laura and I am a coffee junkie. Is it a problem? Only when I start on my third pot of coffee. It would be a bit severe to say I need to quit cold turkey; it’s all about knowing when to say when.
Mom doesn’t seem the least bit surprised that I haven’t gotten any work this week. “It’s your own fault. You’ve always been reckless with your coffee.” Uh, thanks for that. Do supportive mothers only appear in Hallmark movies of the week? Still, Mom did see me in my most caffeinated state so it’s impossible for me to minimize the incident. I just hate it when she has real evidence to support her attempts to crush my self-esteem.
“I’ve decided to redo your bedroom. Turn it into a sewing/scrapbooking room. How ’bout you join me at Home Depot and the fabric store? Help me pick out material for the new curtains.”
Why my room? What about Estelle’s? Or Marella’s? Did Lucy know Mom was stripping away all memories of our room? Why did I care? And when did Mom get interested in scrapbooking?
I knew that if I joined her on this shopping expedition, I’d be on the hook for the fifty-three other trips she’d make before making the final decisions on the redecorating venture. A mother-daughter tag team. No thanks.
“Sorry, Mom. I’ve got an interview today,” I fibbed.
“Oh, that’s wonderful, dear! Is it with that dentist I told you about? I think you’d have a real knack for getting people to floss. Could you have a talk with your father about that? Although I do think you are selling yourself short. Why don’t you give that handsome mayor of ours a call? I think you’d be able to make a real difference at city hall. Of course, he’d want you to ride your bike to work. Your father will have to give that old bike of yours a servicing. I hate the thought of you out on the busy streets and having a tire fall off. You know how the drivers—”
“Sorry, Mom. Gotta go.” She so seldom ever gave me an option other than the abrupt hang up. And to think I was the one who had problems handling her caffeine.
KEN’S JOURNAL:
5 WEEKS’ VACATION TIME. THAT’S WHAT THEY OWE ME. NO WONDER I’M FRIED. THE BOSS NEVER LET ME TAKE MORE THAN 2 DAYS AT A TIME. ALWAYS MORE WORK. ALWAYS A PROJECT THAT WAS URGENT. AND I ALWAYS SUCKED IT UP FOR THE TEAM. NOW THEY THINK THEY DON’T OWE ME COMPENSATION FOR THAT?! CHRIST! THANK GOD MY FRIEND DENTON IS A LAWYER & IS TAKING UP MY CAUSE FOR FREE. (THAT’S ASSUMING A FORMAL LETTER & A BALLS-TO-THE-WALL PHONE CALL ARE ENUF TO MAKE THEM COUGH UP WHAT’S OWED.) I DON’T NEED THIS SHIT RIGHT NOW.
I’VE BEEN UP SINCE 5 A.M., FREAKIN’ OVER MY (ALMOST) IMMINENT HOMELESSNESS. SURFED CONDOS ON MLS UNTIL MY EYES GLAZED OVER. ACTUALLY, I KEPT GOING. CAN’T SAY I RECALL A THING ABOUT THE LAST 90 PLACES I SUPPOSEDLY LOOKED AT. GOT A LIST OF 14 PLACES I’D AT LEAST LOOK AT. NOW MARTY’S GOT TO SET UP THE VIEWINGS.
IT WORRIES ME THAT I LOSE INTEREST IN BROWSING CONDO LISTINGS. HERE I AM HEADING INTO THE MARKET AS AN AGENT. MY LIFE WILL BE RULED BY MLS. IT SOUNDS WEIRD BUT IT’S NEVER AS FUN SHOPPING W/MY OWN $$. IN FACT, IT’S PAINFUL. SPENDING OTHER PEOPLE’S MONEY? ON MULTIMILLION DOLLAR HOUSES ON THE WEST SIDE? NOW THAT EXCITES ME.
Showing posts with label temp work. Show all posts
Showing posts with label temp work. Show all posts
Wednesday, March 24, 2010
Friday, February 26, 2010
YOU CAN’T CHOOSE YOUR COWORKERS…OR CAN YOU?
February 26, 2010
LIBRA HOROSCOPE (from astrology.com): You are naturally social -- though that doesn't mean you see yourself as a natural leader. Still, today you rise to the challenge and end up surprising a lot of people, including yourself.
Laura’s Log:
Just got word from the temp agency that today is my last day at Deer Lake Auto Shop. Feel like singing “Hallelujah” (more the forgettable, first-person-kicked-off-“American Idol” version than the supreme kd lang version, but still…). Delores should be back Monday, barring another trip to the curling rink. Mindy with the temp agency was booking me for a stint at a funeral home—keep me clear of the crematorium and I’m fine (I think)—and was surprised Sergi had not told me yet. That makes one of us.
I continued to be a nonentity at the auto shop and, since hell had apparently frozen over, I decided it was time to defrost the environment. I’d done all the tasks I could decipher on the lists thrust on my desk whenever I turned away and I decided to harass Sergi about the chicken scratch that continued to confound me. Don’t ever accuse me of riding the time clock. If I’m at work, the last thing I want to do is start updating my Facebook page or surfing for earsplitting first week “Idol” performances on YouTube.
“Sergi!” He set his coffee cup down and shuffled to the storage room. I followed. Drawing my heretofore unknown inner Rocky Balboa, I hollered, “Yo! Sergi!” He bolted out the back door and I chased him down the alley. As Sergi is 6’4” and 280, it was ridiculous for me to yell, “Don’t make me tackle you!” but absurdity seemed to be the norm at Deer Lake Auto Shop. To my surprise, he stopped and held his hands up as if to say, Don’t shoot!
Turns out he wasn’t so much afraid of me as of his wife. The Great Ice War had been mere subterfuge. Apparently, Tatiana, who worked the cash register, felt he was a little too excited during some Monday night lovemaking and she accused him of fantasizing about me. “You’re beautiful,” he noted. (That’s not entirely relevant, but I retain the right to document whatever I choose. And I also opt to repress any creepy subtext.) Judging from the way his eyes popped out and kept darting in every direction, our alley conversation was too dangerous to continue. He begged me to meet him at the front register, with Tatiana bearing witness. And then, with sweat already painting his brow, he said, “Wait ten minutes” and then ran around to the front.
Ten minutes. I looked at my watch. 11:40. I walked to my car and drove away. You know that expression, You just can’t pay me enough? I decided to start the weekend early.
KEN’S JOURNAL (via BlackBerry):
THE BOSS IS AWAY TODAY. THANK GOD. THE BASTARD SCORED TIX TO THE CANADA-SLOVAKIA GAME & DECIDED, W/ALL THE STRESS I’D CAUSED HIM, HE DESERVED A 3-DAY WEEKEND. I SHLD BE THE OFFICE HERO, BUT PEOPLE HAVE BEEN COOL TO ME ALL WEEK. WHILE I’M THE TARGET OF THE BOSS’ WRATH, HE HAS A TENDENCY TO LET HIS IRE SPILL OVER. WON’T MISS HIM ONCE I GET OUT OF HERE.
CONVINCED RAJ TO GO TO LUNCH W/ME. SAID HE WAS GOING TO STAY IN & ENJOY HIS PEANUT BUTTER SANDWICH SO I HAD TO OFFER TO TREAT HIM AT THE IRISH HEATHER. HE’S A CHEAP MF, BUT HE’S FREAKIN’ AMAZING W/REAL ESTATE. NEED TO LURE HIM TO JOINING MARTY & ME WHEN WE START THE NEW VENTURE.
IMMEDIATELY HE STARTED TO FREAK AS I MENTIONED THE POSSIBILITY OF BREAKING OUT ON OUR OWN. “BUT I’VE GOT A WIFE & TWO KIDS…” COME ON, DUDE. HAVE SOME GUTS. ENJOY MORE CONTROL. HELP YOUR FAMILY GET MORE OF WHAT IT DESERVES. MY PITCH SLOWLY STARTED TO WORK. (I THINK THE GUINNESS HELPED!) I HAVE NO DOUBT HE’LL HAVE A PANIC ATTACK AS HE TALKS IT OVER W/THE WIFE ON THE WEEKEND, BUT I’LL KEEP PUSHING. THERE ARE PLENTY OF PUBS IN THE AREA. I’LL CLOSE THE DEAL.
LIBRA HOROSCOPE (from astrology.com): You are naturally social -- though that doesn't mean you see yourself as a natural leader. Still, today you rise to the challenge and end up surprising a lot of people, including yourself.
Laura’s Log:
Just got word from the temp agency that today is my last day at Deer Lake Auto Shop. Feel like singing “Hallelujah” (more the forgettable, first-person-kicked-off-“American Idol” version than the supreme kd lang version, but still…). Delores should be back Monday, barring another trip to the curling rink. Mindy with the temp agency was booking me for a stint at a funeral home—keep me clear of the crematorium and I’m fine (I think)—and was surprised Sergi had not told me yet. That makes one of us.
I continued to be a nonentity at the auto shop and, since hell had apparently frozen over, I decided it was time to defrost the environment. I’d done all the tasks I could decipher on the lists thrust on my desk whenever I turned away and I decided to harass Sergi about the chicken scratch that continued to confound me. Don’t ever accuse me of riding the time clock. If I’m at work, the last thing I want to do is start updating my Facebook page or surfing for earsplitting first week “Idol” performances on YouTube.
“Sergi!” He set his coffee cup down and shuffled to the storage room. I followed. Drawing my heretofore unknown inner Rocky Balboa, I hollered, “Yo! Sergi!” He bolted out the back door and I chased him down the alley. As Sergi is 6’4” and 280, it was ridiculous for me to yell, “Don’t make me tackle you!” but absurdity seemed to be the norm at Deer Lake Auto Shop. To my surprise, he stopped and held his hands up as if to say, Don’t shoot!
Turns out he wasn’t so much afraid of me as of his wife. The Great Ice War had been mere subterfuge. Apparently, Tatiana, who worked the cash register, felt he was a little too excited during some Monday night lovemaking and she accused him of fantasizing about me. “You’re beautiful,” he noted. (That’s not entirely relevant, but I retain the right to document whatever I choose. And I also opt to repress any creepy subtext.) Judging from the way his eyes popped out and kept darting in every direction, our alley conversation was too dangerous to continue. He begged me to meet him at the front register, with Tatiana bearing witness. And then, with sweat already painting his brow, he said, “Wait ten minutes” and then ran around to the front.
Ten minutes. I looked at my watch. 11:40. I walked to my car and drove away. You know that expression, You just can’t pay me enough? I decided to start the weekend early.
KEN’S JOURNAL (via BlackBerry):
THE BOSS IS AWAY TODAY. THANK GOD. THE BASTARD SCORED TIX TO THE CANADA-SLOVAKIA GAME & DECIDED, W/ALL THE STRESS I’D CAUSED HIM, HE DESERVED A 3-DAY WEEKEND. I SHLD BE THE OFFICE HERO, BUT PEOPLE HAVE BEEN COOL TO ME ALL WEEK. WHILE I’M THE TARGET OF THE BOSS’ WRATH, HE HAS A TENDENCY TO LET HIS IRE SPILL OVER. WON’T MISS HIM ONCE I GET OUT OF HERE.
CONVINCED RAJ TO GO TO LUNCH W/ME. SAID HE WAS GOING TO STAY IN & ENJOY HIS PEANUT BUTTER SANDWICH SO I HAD TO OFFER TO TREAT HIM AT THE IRISH HEATHER. HE’S A CHEAP MF, BUT HE’S FREAKIN’ AMAZING W/REAL ESTATE. NEED TO LURE HIM TO JOINING MARTY & ME WHEN WE START THE NEW VENTURE.
IMMEDIATELY HE STARTED TO FREAK AS I MENTIONED THE POSSIBILITY OF BREAKING OUT ON OUR OWN. “BUT I’VE GOT A WIFE & TWO KIDS…” COME ON, DUDE. HAVE SOME GUTS. ENJOY MORE CONTROL. HELP YOUR FAMILY GET MORE OF WHAT IT DESERVES. MY PITCH SLOWLY STARTED TO WORK. (I THINK THE GUINNESS HELPED!) I HAVE NO DOUBT HE’LL HAVE A PANIC ATTACK AS HE TALKS IT OVER W/THE WIFE ON THE WEEKEND, BUT I’LL KEEP PUSHING. THERE ARE PLENTY OF PUBS IN THE AREA. I’LL CLOSE THE DEAL.
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