Take your job and . . .

Thursday, December 27, 2012

I’m back in the same cold chair on another cold day to push buttons. Another long night and a dramatic morning, as I woke to the tail end of a dream where I was fired at work. It was very vivid as I was climbing out of sleep when Dinosaur began crying. The CEO had read a few of my mails and did not like what he saw. He told my boss to fire me, and after telling me, I spent the morning running around campus and talking to people, planning my escape and Plan B, and trying to understand what happened. I also threatened them, I think, trying to squeeze more money from them, at which point my boss, a former litigator, laughed at me.

But I’m passed that and my morning headache eased thanks to the help of the Bucks of Stars. As far as I remember, I don’t have prophetic dreams, so I should be good for at least this week. Although it’s always good to remember how precarious our jobs are, and how easily life can change for no reason whatsoever.

Even with the headache passing my mind is still fuzzy. I feel like I haven’t showered in two days. That’s more than I feeling, I’m afraid.

Okay, my mind is now cleared of all the crud of everyday living and only cobwebs remain. There’s a pair of older gentlemen at the end of the table discussing the politics of our small island. It’s good that there are civic-minded people in the world to help make our lives better. Or I’m hoping that’s their plan. Another gentleman, a larger man, wearing short jeans held up by suspenders that don’t cover his colorful underwear, greets the local politicians and shares the story of reading about reading in the paper this morning about another acquaintance passing away. “The older we get,” he says to the older of the two politicians, “the more we hear about these things.” They discuss a Shakespeare quote about the fragility of life (of which I miss) and then spend time trying to figure out where the quote originated. They decide it’s from Julius Caesar, if that is even a play. He leaves with wishes of a good New Years, and hangs about hoping they’ll continue the conversation. When he becomes apparent that they want to return to the discussion of local politics—in the form of educational reform—he repeats his wishes and wanders off.

I spent the last forty-five minutes with my younger sister talking on the telephone while wandering around the Bucks. I hate people who do that. I did try to stay away from people while talking; choosing to hang about the Christmas merchandise still for sale (at 50% off!) in the hopes that talking would not annoy the three people left here.

Speaking of annoying+ people, Doolies is probably wondering where I am. I told her I’d be home by now—actually thirty minutes ago. But I still haven’t finished my thirty minutes of peddling, and I want to sell these thoughts to my dear readers.

+ Doolies asked me to clarify: the use of this "annoying" was to signify that I, David, was annoying Doolies by not returning home; not that Doolies was an annoying person. She was afraid my dear readers would be confused by my inexact phrasing.

My coffee is cold but going down well. I cooked a pot roast last night. It’s in the refrigerator today and will hopefully be super yummy tonight for dinner. It’s worth the extra time to keep the pot roast overnight before eating. Not to mention that I didn’t start cooking until 3:30pm, and given the 3+ hours of cooking and the thirty minutes of prep, the roast was not going to be done until after Tiger was well on her way to dreamland. Even if she didn’t arrive in dreamland until after nine yesterday, after I made a quick visit to check why she was still tossing and turning. Night cameras are amazing inventions. Not sure how my parents’ generation raised children without them.

Funny fact: the first thing I did after being fired in my dream yesterday is visit the Apple store. Does that make me a hypocrite—even forgetting the fact that an unemployed person should not be frequenting the most expensive piece of retail space.

Three ladies are planning something at the end of the table. They’re too far for me to hear what. My people watching skills have deteriorated something fierce since moving away from New York those millions of years ago.

Okay, not sure I made my full thirty minutes because of the interruption, but I’m getting the caffeine shakes and feeling bad for leaving the Doolies at home for so long without helping out. I’m going to call this a useless if successful session. Until next time.