Wednesday, December 29, 2004

December 16 (Thursday): Dream: I have the woman at Acme personnel asking me about the reasons pertaining to my current unemployment. Upon telling her that it was dismissal, akin to the Acme, scenario she tells me that she will unable to represent me in my job. From there I find myself hanging out with Dad, two people with too much time on their hands. Eventually we wind up in the Cheers bar! And Dad has the Sam Malone role. Oh my, I am watching far too much daytime TV.

I wake up past 9PM. Oh dear, I’m getting lazy but at the same time outside its still bitter dark. Another day, another stinging headache, don’t let it be told/believed that being unemployed is a doss.

I call Acme with regards to last weeks interview, the one I doubt I got as I was being told at the place I was overqualified for (which I agree with). I speak to the guy and the feedback isn’t necessarily good. Apparently my CV and my test results obviously scored high but apparently in the interview I am came over as too laid back. Oh dear, that old chestnut is rearing its head once more. I suspect the comments are fair, as the interview was by no means intensive or professional and the tests I were given to do were for elements of the job I learned in my first year of accountancy, so already jaded from coming out of nightmare exams, it was a pretty difficult interview to be gung ho about, especially when being interviewed by an old college acquaintance probably younger than me who I would imagine would see my as a real threat to her own job. And apparently seeing the Christine woman went against me as my comment about her “giving me grief and winding me up”, dry as it was, was only misinterpret (in the interviewers favour?) as negative. Would someone really expect me to rationally make a comment such as to jeopardise my career chances? Sadly however, over our phonecall, I fail to find the words. I’m beat.

Today I don’t go out during the daytime, there doesn’t seem much point. I write during the day, it gets me through and is productive at the same time. Good times.

In preparation for tonight’s English class, this afternoon I actually bother to tidy/clean myself and I have a nice long bath etc. I also finally pull out the Raymond Chandler Papers book and I read that in the bath. It actually turns out to be a really good read/book, not least because I suddenly discover a whole new/different side to Chandler, almost Bukowski-eqse and the icing on the cake is when I discover that he was an accountant before he became a writer. He the man.

As I get ready for class, I realise I have forgotten to brush my teeth and when I grab my toothbrush and scrub in a hurry, I only manage to proceed and ram my toothbrush up the roof of my mouth, severely bashing my gums. It hurts like shit.

And then just as I am one foot out of the day, I get cold called by some Asian woman (they’re always Asian!) trying to selling me a phoneline (Toucan?). Right now, I’m not a very good person to be cold calling: firstly I am unemployed with no money and secondly I don’t speak to many people in the daytime, so I’ll listen to your call but won’t buy anything, instead get really sarcastic with the caller for my own amusement.

I get to class and today we look at diaries and journals. Teacher calls me “you Blogger you” and asks me if I regret what has happened. I tell her “the jury is still out”, really tripping over my words in embarrassment in the process. I say “I had an interview last week but they said I was “too laid back” which probably means they thought I was a stoner” which makes Rob (Ipswich Rob) laugh. I get my homework handed back (the asylum seeker letter) and I’ve got an A- for it. Yes! Another winning grade.

One of the diaries we look at is Tony Benn’s which makes me think back to when Hirameka played Marxism and I got dragged into that shambles of an event and how listening to Tony Benn was one of the most boring things any of us have/had ever done and how it was all tied up/surrounded in pretension and pomposity. The thing with Socialists is that they think they are the ones making history and changing things. We also move onto the diary/journal by some famous modern day American writer and suddenly it is fascinating contrasting so many different diaries/journals and I find myself comparing each and everyone of them to my Blog and only coming to the conclusion that I don’t think mine compares very favourably. We then also move on to Bridget Jones’s Diary, which I haven’t read but the extract makes it sound really good and readable. We also read an Alan Bennett Talking Heads piece which is really great also. The class ends on an absolute high. As the teacher gets us all brainstorming ideas for a story (and the guy keeps making comments/scoffs at my suggestions) the teacher gets my Sopranos reference when she asks me “what job does the man have” and I pause and say “Waste Management Consultant” and she pops “Sopranos, like it” while the guy remarks “does that mean he’s of shit?” with the reference obviously flying well over his zebra-male head whereas Rob (Ipswich Rob) goes “Sopranos, cool!”. This class rules.

I don’t bother with any post-college shopping this week, instead I just pop into the chip shop next to college and buy a portion of self pity chips, a feast for any man. I get home and begin scoffing them whilst also texting the ill Emma about this week’s class and Christmas homework and calling home to speak to mum for a state of the union address.

By now, its beginning to get late and around midnight Tom hops on MSN and begins telling me his female related woes and once more I act like an unmarried marriage counsellor, so best never (ever) listen to my advice. I do often however see many parallels in Tom’s and my own experiences but we always seem to take completely different directions in our choices, I seem to kill my efforts at birth whereas Tom carries on in his efforts and often at least gets “some” before things go tits up (something I insulate far far too much).

At past midnight I begin watching the extras on the special edition Reservoir Dogs DVD and the extras are really cool, not least the interview with the guy that played Marvin Nash. Chris Penn also comes over really too. I do however fall asleep watching it.

At 2.33AM I am awoken by my phone beeping next to my head (seems I sleep with my phone) and it is a text from Haslett (Sara!). She says “Know was twat. Not going 2 try and b a good person but i can tell you had major family drama was bad but if u knew half of it u would excuse my actions sorry x”. It pisses me off that she wakes me up but it REALLY pisses me off that she doesn’t actually give me anything to work, anything that will make me understand and sympathetic to her plight, especially considering despite my actions I really really do care about her and I thought she might be someone special and meeting up with her this Christmas was going to be THE thing that saved Christmas for me after all the recent shitty events, work and exam related. Ultimately though, I can’t have such feelings for someone who obviously does not have them back. The text smells/tastes of a bout of guilt and at this hour can only be alcohol and/or drug fuelled. I’m no longer angry over the incident, just sad and now just afraid of losing more money in another naïve bout of foolishness. And with that in mind, I make a point of texting her back at this hour, to wake up her right back and I just text “we need to settle up first”. I doubt I could be any more clinical or cold. Here’s another person I really really have true feelings for and I only know that it can only serve to burn/hit/hurt me hard.

Awake now, I go back to the Reservoir Dogs DVD but then I see Acton come online at an ungodly hour (3AM) and he is jacked, absolutely shitfaced. Turns out that he has just got back in from the Suede reunion (or at least Anderson and Butler) and he got to go to the aftershow with free hooch. Nice, have a good time all the time.

np: Jane’s Addiction – Then She Did

1 Comments:

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