I often find that I have to trick myself into doing the things that (I think) I want to do.
The oldest in the book is putting my alarm clock (/phone) as far away from my bed as possible. In this particular room, this means I can still usually reach it from the bed, but the process usually annoys me into a more wakeful state.
Lately it seems that my theoretical/idealistic side has struck a deal with my practical side, because I now put the phone in a spot that seems far away at night, but is well within reach every morning.
My latest self-deceit, however, has been an unmitigated disaster! At one misguided point in my recent past, I thought to myself, "I need to do this stuff, but I don't feel like it right now. I'll put it on my bed, because surely I won't actually sleep on top of the CDs I should import and the letters I'd like to respond to." (Several obvious flaws with this plan, I know, but the procrastinator's mind is forgiving.)
And anyway, I was at least half right - rather than sleep on top of my tangible To-Do list, I pushed everything to the side and slept on the remaining bedscape.
Now, I'd say about 60% of my bed is covered with stuff I somehow thought I'd feel more like doing when twice as tired...? Truth is, when it comes time to crash, anything that doesn't look like it'll spill and/or attract unwanted guests seems like an acceptable bedfellow.
I'm off to address this issue and reclaim my living space, wish me luck (even though by the time you read this I'll be finished).
January 30, 2008
January 26, 2008
Week's End
I have dramatically reduced my shifts at my theater job! To something like zero. I'd like to retain the right to return for a shift or two a month, if only to visit with all the people who work there.
I suppose the logical follow-up to this tidbit would be to address the why, so I'll just list the Pros and Cons rather than attempt a prose-based explanation. This has mostly to do with the fact that I can't tune out the living room TV that's on right now (and has every right to be, don't get me wrong).
Pros!
•Easiest work ever: count stuff, sell it, fold some shirts
•Amazing full view of Times Square, the beating heart of consumerism in America, among other things.
•Daily exposure to thousands of people from all over the world.
•Interaction with actors, singers, dancers, who are trying to "make it," some who have made it, and some who never have and never will - I'm a sucker for being around people who are nothing like me. Plus, of course, the rare black sheep, like me, who aren't entirely sure how they got there.
Cons¡
•Most unfulfilling work ever: Not just that, but the opposite of fulfilling. I suppose I don't mean this job specifically, but any job where you are acutely aware that you are doing nothing positive.
•Full view of Times Square, where it's often difficult to distinguish day from night and the enormous flashing advertisements tend to force themselves through the floor-to-ceiling windows and suffocate anyone who lingers too long.
•Daily exposure to thousands of people from all over the world - I think anyone who's worked retail will more readily understand how this could be a problem...
•Interaction with people who not only live off the psychological exploitation of other people, but delight in it...I mean, wtf??
•Oh yeah, shitty pay - after each month of full-time work, I earned only just enough to pay for rent, bills, and some food. And that's with the cheapest rent I've ever paid.
•Terrible hours. Many actors work these jobs because it leaves their days free for auditions, but for me it just meant working either 6 nights a week with 2 consecutive 11-hour days, or 5 nights a week with 3 11-hour days. And while thousands of things are happening all the time in this city, most of these things take place in the evening hours or on weekends, which is exactly when I can't attend them.
The End Result:
The gnawing feeling that a huge chunk of my life was being spent doing something with which I'm not ideologically aligned, and for so little money that I wonder how the people who pocket the profits live with themselves.
I think I quit this job mentally a long time ago, and have basically just been going to hang out with the people I only see there. But, people are everywhere, no? And now I'll have a lot more time to spend with them =)
I suppose the logical follow-up to this tidbit would be to address the why, so I'll just list the Pros and Cons rather than attempt a prose-based explanation. This has mostly to do with the fact that I can't tune out the living room TV that's on right now (and has every right to be, don't get me wrong).
Pros!
•Easiest work ever: count stuff, sell it, fold some shirts
•Amazing full view of Times Square, the beating heart of consumerism in America, among other things.
•Daily exposure to thousands of people from all over the world.
•Interaction with actors, singers, dancers, who are trying to "make it," some who have made it, and some who never have and never will - I'm a sucker for being around people who are nothing like me. Plus, of course, the rare black sheep, like me, who aren't entirely sure how they got there.
Cons¡
•Most unfulfilling work ever: Not just that, but the opposite of fulfilling. I suppose I don't mean this job specifically, but any job where you are acutely aware that you are doing nothing positive.
•Full view of Times Square, where it's often difficult to distinguish day from night and the enormous flashing advertisements tend to force themselves through the floor-to-ceiling windows and suffocate anyone who lingers too long.
•Daily exposure to thousands of people from all over the world - I think anyone who's worked retail will more readily understand how this could be a problem...
•Interaction with people who not only live off the psychological exploitation of other people, but delight in it...I mean, wtf??
•Oh yeah, shitty pay - after each month of full-time work, I earned only just enough to pay for rent, bills, and some food. And that's with the cheapest rent I've ever paid.
•Terrible hours. Many actors work these jobs because it leaves their days free for auditions, but for me it just meant working either 6 nights a week with 2 consecutive 11-hour days, or 5 nights a week with 3 11-hour days. And while thousands of things are happening all the time in this city, most of these things take place in the evening hours or on weekends, which is exactly when I can't attend them.
The End Result:
The gnawing feeling that a huge chunk of my life was being spent doing something with which I'm not ideologically aligned, and for so little money that I wonder how the people who pocket the profits live with themselves.
I think I quit this job mentally a long time ago, and have basically just been going to hang out with the people I only see there. But, people are everywhere, no? And now I'll have a lot more time to spend with them =)
January 23, 2008
Nemesis
Competition and I, as I previously predicted, were both hired, so we can officially be cool. And anyway, it turns out I have a much bigger enemy in the office - none other than my old nemesis - rampant static electricity!
Yes, the same fiend that hounded me in the dry-aired casinos of Vegas and makes the couch unsafe every winter has now found me at the workplace! I am shocked literally dozens of times an hour. Even a quarter turn in my chair produces enough electricity to zap me the next time I touch a doorknob, door (they're metal), door jamb, computer, tape deck, light switch, lamp, person....even the mouse sometimes gets me! The shocks range from Rice-Krispies-level snaps, crackles, and pops to 1.21-gigawatt arcs of of pure electric power that could send a DeLorean back in time.
I only hope that repeated electrical shock has no adverse effects on the human body...
Yes, the same fiend that hounded me in the dry-aired casinos of Vegas and makes the couch unsafe every winter has now found me at the workplace! I am shocked literally dozens of times an hour. Even a quarter turn in my chair produces enough electricity to zap me the next time I touch a doorknob, door (they're metal), door jamb, computer, tape deck, light switch, lamp, person....even the mouse sometimes gets me! The shocks range from Rice-Krispies-level snaps, crackles, and pops to 1.21-gigawatt arcs of of pure electric power that could send a DeLorean back in time.
I only hope that repeated electrical shock has no adverse effects on the human body...
Newz
I'm officially hired - junior editor!
I'm hoping to move up in the ranks sooner than later, and not just because "junior" sounds really terrible, but because I want to know everything there is to know.
My progress has been slow so far, mostly because they all still have such low expectations when it comes to my work. Mostly I get condescending (and figurative) pats on the head when I do something right. I've also been interrupted several times by someone telling me what to do or what I don't know, when if they'd let me finish the sentence I was 75% through, they'd have realized there was no need to interrupt me. But I guess it's more about them feeling like they have a purpose and mad smarts 'n skillz than about being efficient and friendly. Le sigh.
Fortunately, I only let this stuff get under my skin long enough to post about it here, and meanwhile I'm quietly changing the system for the better. I plan to become so efficient that I'll have free time to dabble in the other dark arts of production: writing, shooting, and more advanced post-production stuff.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
By the way, if you want to see what a day in the life looks like (sorta), email me and I'll send you the keyword you need to find a "behind the scenes at the office" video on YouTube. One of the writers made it on his own in an attempt at...viral marketing, I guess?
I'm in it a couple times, but of course it was filmed at the end of my first two weeks of sleepless nights, not to mention during the most boring of my duties. [These and other qualifications also available via email.]
If you look closely, you can make out a lot of the things I've already talked about: the soundproofing material on the walls; my Competition looking on as I play Police Trainer; the tape library I helped organize on my first day; even the table of Emmys that intimidated me the first time I walked in.
I'm hoping to move up in the ranks sooner than later, and not just because "junior" sounds really terrible, but because I want to know everything there is to know.
My progress has been slow so far, mostly because they all still have such low expectations when it comes to my work. Mostly I get condescending (and figurative) pats on the head when I do something right. I've also been interrupted several times by someone telling me what to do or what I don't know, when if they'd let me finish the sentence I was 75% through, they'd have realized there was no need to interrupt me. But I guess it's more about them feeling like they have a purpose and mad smarts 'n skillz than about being efficient and friendly. Le sigh.
Fortunately, I only let this stuff get under my skin long enough to post about it here, and meanwhile I'm quietly changing the system for the better. I plan to become so efficient that I'll have free time to dabble in the other dark arts of production: writing, shooting, and more advanced post-production stuff.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
By the way, if you want to see what a day in the life looks like (sorta), email me and I'll send you the keyword you need to find a "behind the scenes at the office" video on YouTube. One of the writers made it on his own in an attempt at...viral marketing, I guess?
I'm in it a couple times, but of course it was filmed at the end of my first two weeks of sleepless nights, not to mention during the most boring of my duties. [These and other qualifications also available via email.]
If you look closely, you can make out a lot of the things I've already talked about: the soundproofing material on the walls; my Competition looking on as I play Police Trainer; the tape library I helped organize on my first day; even the table of Emmys that intimidated me the first time I walked in.
January 17, 2008
To the commenters
Thanks Chu!
AND TO whoever cryptically offered to employ me as her personal banker:
You have played only yourself for a fool! For I, like Midas, Buffet, and Orman before me, can turn any man's ordinary holdings into a vast glittering for-tune (pronounced for-choon) with the slightest touch! Despite your derision, I will still accept the position on one condition - during meetings I get to wear very cool, officious spectacles and shuffle papers importantly.
What's with all the geeky phrasing tonight? I dunno.
AND TO whoever cryptically offered to employ me as her personal banker:
You have played only yourself for a fool! For I, like Midas, Buffet, and Orman before me, can turn any man's ordinary holdings into a vast glittering for-tune (pronounced for-choon) with the slightest touch! Despite your derision, I will still accept the position on one condition - during meetings I get to wear very cool, officious spectacles and shuffle papers importantly.
What's with all the geeky phrasing tonight? I dunno.
Our hero dashes into the stall, locks the door, and removes his button-down brown shirt to reveal! his cheesy merchandise logo T-shirt. A minute more and the transformation from
ordinary office worker to extraordinarily underpaid and jaded merchandise seller is complete.
What villains will be conquered this eve?
Perhaps the ornery mother of two who yells at her kids before buying them the things she's yelling at them about wanting to buy?
Or the family of seven who insist on trying on every possible size of shirt before settling on the one first recommended to them?
Or maybe, tonight, the arch nemesis of all good-hearted people will appear to wreak havoc: the merchandise manager who actually enjoys, in her own words, "tak[ing] advantage of every man, woman, and child that walks in [the theatre]."
Whatever the case may be, he is prepared; he possesses a stout heart, nimble wit, and also some headphones to block out a majority of the sales meeting and any other annoyances.
ordinary office worker to extraordinarily underpaid and jaded merchandise seller is complete.
What villains will be conquered this eve?
Perhaps the ornery mother of two who yells at her kids before buying them the things she's yelling at them about wanting to buy?
Or the family of seven who insist on trying on every possible size of shirt before settling on the one first recommended to them?
Or maybe, tonight, the arch nemesis of all good-hearted people will appear to wreak havoc: the merchandise manager who actually enjoys, in her own words, "tak[ing] advantage of every man, woman, and child that walks in [the theatre]."
Whatever the case may be, he is prepared; he possesses a stout heart, nimble wit, and also some headphones to block out a majority of the sales meeting and any other annoyances.
January 15, 2008
Good news first!
I saved almost everything from the past few 80-hr weeks and paid off a big chunk of mah debt!
Bad news is that I forgot about the new $3 "maintenance" charge for my savings account, which means the balance is now -$3, and will probably soon be much more. I'll call, but not being a girl will hurt my chances at getting the sure-to-come Hefty-brand fee removed.
The net result is good news, though =)
Bad news is that I forgot about the new $3 "maintenance" charge for my savings account, which means the balance is now -$3, and will probably soon be much more. I'll call, but not being a girl will hurt my chances at getting the sure-to-come Hefty-brand fee removed.
The net result is good news, though =)
January 11, 2008
The Object of Whose Affection?
Today I got my first phone call at work - from Stamps.com? What?!
Not only did they somehow know I work there, they also thought I made decisions about postage. So, which one of you is selling my information?
Yesterday at work, someone was throwing out a catalog for this huge "rock-n-roll auction," like a real-life ebay, y'know? There were the standard items: signed photos and compositions, guitars, pianos, clothes, what-have-yous, and doodads. But lurking among the standard fare was....well, this:
Hmm, what to buy...an expired credit card that was probably mostly used by a personal assistant/whiny relative, or the piano on which Lennon's "Imagine" was composed and recorded? Tough decisions like that make me glad I don't have any disposable income.
Not only did they somehow know I work there, they also thought I made decisions about postage. So, which one of you is selling my information?
Yesterday at work, someone was throwing out a catalog for this huge "rock-n-roll auction," like a real-life ebay, y'know? There were the standard items: signed photos and compositions, guitars, pianos, clothes, what-have-yous, and doodads. But lurking among the standard fare was....well, this:
Hmm, what to buy...an expired credit card that was probably mostly used by a personal assistant/whiny relative, or the piano on which Lennon's "Imagine" was composed and recorded? Tough decisions like that make me glad I don't have any disposable income.
January 9, 2008
Concerning the 17-hour day...
One of those terrible word problems, where "word" really means math spelled out:
If I wake up at 6:45 to go to job 1, and I get home from job 2 just before midnight, how is it that I do not collapse upon entering my apartment? Even counting the hours on my fingers makes me tired, yet somehow I manage to stay up way too late every single night.
Despite the self-inflicted lack of sleep, I think I prefer this sort of lifestyle; it feels much more productive. I wonder if you can hire a service to send someone to sedate you every evening? Or maybe have the neighbor's kids do it for a buck?
I'm even looking for ways to fill Monday and Tuesday evenings, though I should probably leave them for grocery shopping and laundry, no? But the NYU class bulletin, she beckons me, her visually nondescript pages promising unlimited opportunities for education, improvement, empowerment. Unlimited, that is, if money is no object. And as we can see from the as-yet immobile debt-o-meter, that is clearly not the case...yet!
Perhaps if I get hired on full-time I can convince the bosses that I will be much more valuable to the company if they pay for me to learn, say, how to make my own stained glass. Doing that kind of stuff in-house saves a lot on shipping alone, y'know. Something to think about.
If I wake up at 6:45 to go to job 1, and I get home from job 2 just before midnight, how is it that I do not collapse upon entering my apartment? Even counting the hours on my fingers makes me tired, yet somehow I manage to stay up way too late every single night.
Despite the self-inflicted lack of sleep, I think I prefer this sort of lifestyle; it feels much more productive. I wonder if you can hire a service to send someone to sedate you every evening? Or maybe have the neighbor's kids do it for a buck?
I'm even looking for ways to fill Monday and Tuesday evenings, though I should probably leave them for grocery shopping and laundry, no? But the NYU class bulletin, she beckons me, her visually nondescript pages promising unlimited opportunities for education, improvement, empowerment. Unlimited, that is, if money is no object. And as we can see from the as-yet immobile debt-o-meter, that is clearly not the case...yet!
Perhaps if I get hired on full-time I can convince the bosses that I will be much more valuable to the company if they pay for me to learn, say, how to make my own stained glass. Doing that kind of stuff in-house saves a lot on shipping alone, y'know. Something to think about.
Harvard Yarn
Before I interviewed at this new job, I realized I owned only T-shirts, jeans, and one pair of black pants that have been through too many things to also subject them to an interview.
So I bought several new "outfits" with the help of an amateur fashion consultant and my confidence was restored!
Even after my interviewer commented twice, in shock, on how dressed up I was, and that I was wearing a tie.
And even after I noticed that every other editor, producer, writer - everybody - was wearing jeans and T-shirts (okay, some sweaters and hoodies, but see how that doesn't fit as nicely into the structure of my story? that's why we leave it out or put it in parentheses).
The good news is that I arrive at work wearing whatever I feel like; sometimes business casual, sometimes casual casual - usually whatever's on or near the top of the pile of clothes at the end of my bed.
Today, the topmost article happened to be my Harvard t-shirt, so I put it on, completely unaware that such an act is a cardinal sin at this particular office.
Those who didn't outright challenge me for being so audacious stared at length at the bold lettering and school motto as they walked past.
Even after I explained to an alumnus-of-Yale writer that I had only just visited, just once, he referred to me and Harvard's sports club as "you guys," as in the spitefully (and actually) delivered remark, "Well, at least you can say you guys beat us 6 out of the last 7 years." Another writer told me she was only upset because she had kids that had applied to and graduated from college. I couldn't tell how that was relevant, but the point is these people freakin' hate Harvard. I think somebody even called me Harvard! Somebody else even leapt to my defense, telling mother-of-children, "It's alright, he didn't go to Harvard."
So in sum:
Worry about what to wear: overspend and overdress
Don't worry about what to wear: become social pariah
I'll go with not worrying, that's just how I roll. Although I think I will shelve the Harvard shirt, at least until I need to stage some sort of silent office-wide protest.
So I bought several new "outfits" with the help of an amateur fashion consultant and my confidence was restored!
Even after my interviewer commented twice, in shock, on how dressed up I was, and that I was wearing a tie.
And even after I noticed that every other editor, producer, writer - everybody - was wearing jeans and T-shirts (okay, some sweaters and hoodies, but see how that doesn't fit as nicely into the structure of my story? that's why we leave it out or put it in parentheses).
The good news is that I arrive at work wearing whatever I feel like; sometimes business casual, sometimes casual casual - usually whatever's on or near the top of the pile of clothes at the end of my bed.
Today, the topmost article happened to be my Harvard t-shirt, so I put it on, completely unaware that such an act is a cardinal sin at this particular office.
Those who didn't outright challenge me for being so audacious stared at length at the bold lettering and school motto as they walked past.
Even after I explained to an alumnus-of-Yale writer that I had only just visited, just once, he referred to me and Harvard's sports club as "you guys," as in the spitefully (and actually) delivered remark, "Well, at least you can say you guys beat us 6 out of the last 7 years." Another writer told me she was only upset because she had kids that had applied to and graduated from college. I couldn't tell how that was relevant, but the point is these people freakin' hate Harvard. I think somebody even called me Harvard! Somebody else even leapt to my defense, telling mother-of-children, "It's alright, he didn't go to Harvard."
So in sum:
Worry about what to wear: overspend and overdress
Don't worry about what to wear: become social pariah
I'll go with not worrying, that's just how I roll. Although I think I will shelve the Harvard shirt, at least until I need to stage some sort of silent office-wide protest.
January 6, 2008
My trifolded note to self says "ageism =)/i r not stupid/slower pace"
In order, then!
I'm beginning to realize I may have been hired partly because I graduated last year. This realization comes after at least half a dozen comments along the lines of, "oh, good, you can tell us if [our program aimed at college students] is hip and fresh." Little does anyone know I've been out of touch with my peers (heck, nearly the whole world) for decades now - I knew Weird Al's version of Smells Like Teen Spirit years before I ever laid ears on the original. I was able to reassure one writer, though, who was worried that an Are You Afraid of the Dark reference might be too obscure - I told him how all the 18- to 22-year-olds at my other job bring that shit up at least once a week.
Okay, so I am a little stupid, but some of the folk at the office are treating me as if I'm some recently-thawed relic of the Ice Age. "Com-pu-ter?" I suppose it's my fault for not being clearer about what pointin' and clickin' skills I possess, but when it comes to technology, it's difficult to give someone a synopsis of exactly what you are and aren't familiar with. As a result, more of my time than I would like is spent watching someone explain something to me that I am already more familiar with than they are. I simply can't figure out a way to stop these impromptu "lessons" without coming off like a complete douchebag, much like I do in this post.
Partly related to this overall theme of people assuming I'm going to be some incompetent chair-warmer is my sneaking suspicion that I'm working way too hard while I'm there. Almost every time I finish something, I'm met with incredulity and some kind of stuttering, "...well...I'll talk to someone and see if we can get something else for you to do..."
As an example, here's a nearly verbatim conversation:
"Hey, I finished capturing that footage."
"All of it??"
"Yeah"
"Everything??"
"Oh, uh, yeah, everything...I mean, everything in those packets you gave me."
"All the packets??"
"Y-yeah?"
"Really??"
And so on, including a thorough check of said packets to make sure I had truly written down and highlighted requested information. (By god, I had! But had I numbered the clips? It's very important that I number the clips...oh, I had, oh good.)
I mention this not to make myself out to be some super-industrious slice of perfection, but to say that I suspect many office workers adhere to some unspoken code that if it can be done in 2 hours, it can also be done in 8, and really, what's the rush?
I'd like to think that even if someday I'm paid vast fortunes to edit per hour, I'd rather work as quickly/efficiently as possible than try to stretch out the time spent in front of a computer, because even though Money = Freedom*, Freedom > Money.
*Disagree? Please leave a detailed comment!
I declare this meeting of the Midnight Society over.
In order, then!
I'm beginning to realize I may have been hired partly because I graduated last year. This realization comes after at least half a dozen comments along the lines of, "oh, good, you can tell us if [our program aimed at college students] is hip and fresh." Little does anyone know I've been out of touch with my peers (heck, nearly the whole world) for decades now - I knew Weird Al's version of Smells Like Teen Spirit years before I ever laid ears on the original. I was able to reassure one writer, though, who was worried that an Are You Afraid of the Dark reference might be too obscure - I told him how all the 18- to 22-year-olds at my other job bring that shit up at least once a week.
Okay, so I am a little stupid, but some of the folk at the office are treating me as if I'm some recently-thawed relic of the Ice Age. "Com-pu-ter?" I suppose it's my fault for not being clearer about what pointin' and clickin' skills I possess, but when it comes to technology, it's difficult to give someone a synopsis of exactly what you are and aren't familiar with. As a result, more of my time than I would like is spent watching someone explain something to me that I am already more familiar with than they are. I simply can't figure out a way to stop these impromptu "lessons" without coming off like a complete douchebag, much like I do in this post.
Partly related to this overall theme of people assuming I'm going to be some incompetent chair-warmer is my sneaking suspicion that I'm working way too hard while I'm there. Almost every time I finish something, I'm met with incredulity and some kind of stuttering, "...well...I'll talk to someone and see if we can get something else for you to do..."
As an example, here's a nearly verbatim conversation:
"Hey, I finished capturing that footage."
"All of it??"
"Yeah"
"Everything??"
"Oh, uh, yeah, everything...I mean, everything in those packets you gave me."
"All the packets??"
"Y-yeah?"
"Really??"
And so on, including a thorough check of said packets to make sure I had truly written down and highlighted requested information. (By god, I had! But had I numbered the clips? It's very important that I number the clips...oh, I had, oh good.)
I mention this not to make myself out to be some super-industrious slice of perfection, but to say that I suspect many office workers adhere to some unspoken code that if it can be done in 2 hours, it can also be done in 8, and really, what's the rush?
I'd like to think that even if someday I'm paid vast fortunes to edit per hour, I'd rather work as quickly/efficiently as possible than try to stretch out the time spent in front of a computer, because even though Money = Freedom*, Freedom > Money.
*Disagree? Please leave a detailed comment!
I declare this meeting of the Midnight Society over.
January 4, 2008
Only today did I realize that editing all day means you have to sit at a computer all day.
The sooner Minority-Report-style user interfaces get here, the better. Anyway, I think better (or more, anyway) when I'm walking around, and I'm sure there'd be creative benefit to using more than just a select few of my fingers.
The other sitting-related thing I learned today was that the sitting position least stressful on your spine is not the classic stock straight 90°, nor leaning forward, but leaning back at a very slackerly angle of of 135°! It's always nice to have your bad habits exonerated, no? So lean back y'all, lean back.
P.S.
Among the most illuminating things I've ever read:
http://www.bartleby.com/59/3.html
The sooner Minority-Report-style user interfaces get here, the better. Anyway, I think better (or more, anyway) when I'm walking around, and I'm sure there'd be creative benefit to using more than just a select few of my fingers.
The other sitting-related thing I learned today was that the sitting position least stressful on your spine is not the classic stock straight 90°, nor leaning forward, but leaning back at a very slackerly angle of of 135°! It's always nice to have your bad habits exonerated, no? So lean back y'all, lean back.
P.S.
Among the most illuminating things I've ever read:
http://www.bartleby.com/59/3.html
January 3, 2008
Add 2, divide by 3, carry the 10,000
I did a little of them mathematics today, and I reckon that if I go all out with two jobs, I can have my credit card debt paid off just before July 4th, which is also about the halfway mark for the year. After that, it's personal/student loans and saving up for early retirement ;)
Related to this, I wonder if anyone knows a good way to cheer up someone who's just had surgery to correct a deviated septum?
Related to this, I wonder if anyone knows a good way to cheer up someone who's just had surgery to correct a deviated septum?
Silver Lining, vol. 1
I expressed concern after my first day at this job.
The clouds:
You see, I am not the only "temporary" hire - there is another! And while he was placed with the most senior editor (someone thought I said "Monsignor Editor" - this will someday be what I call myself), I was placed with the second in command. Monsignor has taken Competition under his wing, showing him all the ropes, pulleys, trap doors, etc.
My mentor, on the other hand, told me he was pretty busy, on a deadline, and didn't really have anything for me to do, so maybe I should just go see what even-lower-on-the-food-chain wants. Okay! That guy didn't really have anything for me to do either, so I ended up helping a couple not-related-to-editing-at-all employees move, sort, and reorganize hundreds of tapes. Basically, I was learning how to count to 2000 while the other new guy was learning how to, y'know, edit?
The silver lining:
I know where all the tapes are, I'm on a friendly basis with the people who make day-to-day stuff work around there, and I am familiar to, and with, most everyone. Whereas I've only seen Competition sitting in the same room watching the Monsignor edit, and I've heard him call someone the wrong name. So I figure that if the time comes when one of us has to go, the same principle will apply as on a farm - once you name the little piggy and get used to its particular oink and they way it helps you organize tapes even though that's not its job, you just couldn't possibly turn it into bacon! In short: I'm Some Pig, he's one of those other animals in that book.
Disclaimer:
Competition is actually a really cool guy, I genuinely wish him the best and doubt that we won't both be hired in the end. He also happens to unintentionally be the Spitting Image of Ron Livingston's character in Office Space, right down to his voice and completely relaxed persona, and how could you not love that?
The clouds:
You see, I am not the only "temporary" hire - there is another! And while he was placed with the most senior editor (someone thought I said "Monsignor Editor" - this will someday be what I call myself), I was placed with the second in command. Monsignor has taken Competition under his wing, showing him all the ropes, pulleys, trap doors, etc.
My mentor, on the other hand, told me he was pretty busy, on a deadline, and didn't really have anything for me to do, so maybe I should just go see what even-lower-on-the-food-chain wants. Okay! That guy didn't really have anything for me to do either, so I ended up helping a couple not-related-to-editing-at-all employees move, sort, and reorganize hundreds of tapes. Basically, I was learning how to count to 2000 while the other new guy was learning how to, y'know, edit?
The silver lining:
I know where all the tapes are, I'm on a friendly basis with the people who make day-to-day stuff work around there, and I am familiar to, and with, most everyone. Whereas I've only seen Competition sitting in the same room watching the Monsignor edit, and I've heard him call someone the wrong name. So I figure that if the time comes when one of us has to go, the same principle will apply as on a farm - once you name the little piggy and get used to its particular oink and they way it helps you organize tapes even though that's not its job, you just couldn't possibly turn it into bacon! In short: I'm Some Pig, he's one of those other animals in that book.
Disclaimer:
Competition is actually a really cool guy, I genuinely wish him the best and doubt that we won't both be hired in the end. He also happens to unintentionally be the Spitting Image of Ron Livingston's character in Office Space, right down to his voice and completely relaxed persona, and how could you not love that?
No cause for alarm
Problem 1: Received mixed information about the alarm system and was first to arrive in the morning.
[It turns out that the difference between a four-digit alarm code (wrong) and five (right) is characterized by a piercing and altogether convincing alarm, followed by realistic visions of a heavily armed security force arriving and opening fire on me and my suspicious paper bag, filled with what forensic experts would later find to be muffins (both corn and chocolate chip).]
Solution: Figured it out before strike team arrived, apologized (semi-)profusely to amused production manager. Problem 1 overcome!
Problem 2: Left passport somewhere in the office two days ago, having brought it for payroll paperwork.
Solution A: Panic, sure that a look-alike is gallivanting in Latin America, committing terrible atrocities and leaving photocopies of my passport as evidence at each crime scene.
Solution B: Open photocopier, retrieve passport, feel affection for coworkers who either a) don't make photocopies or b) carefully replaced my passport each time they did.
[It turns out that the difference between a four-digit alarm code (wrong) and five (right) is characterized by a piercing and altogether convincing alarm, followed by realistic visions of a heavily armed security force arriving and opening fire on me and my suspicious paper bag, filled with what forensic experts would later find to be muffins (both corn and chocolate chip).]
Solution: Figured it out before strike team arrived, apologized (semi-)profusely to amused production manager. Problem 1 overcome!
Problem 2: Left passport somewhere in the office two days ago, having brought it for payroll paperwork.
Solution A: Panic, sure that a look-alike is gallivanting in Latin America, committing terrible atrocities and leaving photocopies of my passport as evidence at each crime scene.
Solution B: Open photocopier, retrieve passport, feel affection for coworkers who either a) don't make photocopies or b) carefully replaced my passport each time they did.
January 1, 2008
A junior again?
Tomorrow I start my first* day as an authentic, entered-in-the-payroll-system, key-holding, alarm-code-knowing, junior editor**.
*fourth actual day at the office
**Position permanence TBD.
I'll be working on who-knows-what in a dark cave of a room from 8-4.
There's one lamp, no windows, and a really nice computer with a decent chair in front of it.
The walls are patchworked with that paradoxical sound-absorbing foam; squishy and harmless yet threateningly pointed (like a pundit? no? ok). Despite that, I'll keep the door almost closed so as not to disturb anyone with the repetition one often hears from an editing station as different cuts/graphics/effects are tried and tried again. This, along with my terrible posture, should quickly turn me into some kind of a freakish pasty hermit.
I'm happy to have this job, and to be starting it with the New Year, so in the future I can easily calculate how long I've been there. I'm still not saving any lives, but I am definitely more interested in the work and paid more appropriately.
As a bonus, I heard about it from the professor of that class I took, which validates the investment only if I work beyond the initial trial month, which will pay for less than 2/3 of the course cost.
Now I should look to upgrade my previous job so that I'm not working 80 hours for 60 hours' pay.
I have also shamelessly stolen a debt-o-meter and added it to the right of this page so you can all play along at home as I hack away at my debt. Half of it was accrued by living jobless for 9 months in NYC and taking several trips, the other half by getting certified as a film editor and taking the LSAT + a prep course.
*fourth actual day at the office
**Position permanence TBD.
I'll be working on who-knows-what in a dark cave of a room from 8-4.
There's one lamp, no windows, and a really nice computer with a decent chair in front of it.
The walls are patchworked with that paradoxical sound-absorbing foam; squishy and harmless yet threateningly pointed (like a pundit? no? ok). Despite that, I'll keep the door almost closed so as not to disturb anyone with the repetition one often hears from an editing station as different cuts/graphics/effects are tried and tried again. This, along with my terrible posture, should quickly turn me into some kind of a freakish pasty hermit.
I'm happy to have this job, and to be starting it with the New Year, so in the future I can easily calculate how long I've been there. I'm still not saving any lives, but I am definitely more interested in the work and paid more appropriately.
As a bonus, I heard about it from the professor of that class I took, which validates the investment only if I work beyond the initial trial month, which will pay for less than 2/3 of the course cost.
Now I should look to upgrade my previous job so that I'm not working 80 hours for 60 hours' pay.
I have also shamelessly stolen a debt-o-meter and added it to the right of this page so you can all play along at home as I hack away at my debt. Half of it was accrued by living jobless for 9 months in NYC and taking several trips, the other half by getting certified as a film editor and taking the LSAT + a prep course.
Normally I'm not one for the New Year concept.
Aside from the fact that it's fun to count down from 10, and that Auld Lang Syne is a great song to sing in a group since nobody really knows all the words, there's never been anything altogether special about it. I'm sure I'm not alone in the feeling that 11:59pm December 31st is a whole lot like 12:01am January 1st.
That said, I did a lot of cleaning today, some reflection, and I've even made resolutions for the first time ever. Much of my life up to this point has been essentially walking away from shitty things in the past, only to look over my shoulder at them and run smack into some new shitty things.
So here's to looking where you're going, even if you don't know where the hell that is! Happy New Year =)
Aside from the fact that it's fun to count down from 10, and that Auld Lang Syne is a great song to sing in a group since nobody really knows all the words, there's never been anything altogether special about it. I'm sure I'm not alone in the feeling that 11:59pm December 31st is a whole lot like 12:01am January 1st.
That said, I did a lot of cleaning today, some reflection, and I've even made resolutions for the first time ever. Much of my life up to this point has been essentially walking away from shitty things in the past, only to look over my shoulder at them and run smack into some new shitty things.
So here's to looking where you're going, even if you don't know where the hell that is! Happy New Year =)
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