On hubris and honesty

So I just had a job interview.  For a job back at my old district.  Not a teaching position, mind you, but teacher salary and mostly teacher schedule, and I’d have my goddamn weekends back.  And I was in this weird place throughout the entire interview where part of me was like Look, literally ask any fucker I’ve ever worked with in this district and they’ll tell you I’m the best person for this job and the rest of me was both trying to rein that part in, because who talks like that, and simultaneously trying to prevent myself from literally begging for the job.

And here’s the thing: I am, if not literally the most qualified person for the job– although I might be– a really fucking solid candidate, and this shit’s perfectly 100% in my wheelhouse.  And there’s nothing wrong with doing my damnedest to make that clear, but when combined with my fucking neediness that I’m trying to keep under control, because I need to not be selling furniture and working 17.5 hours every weekend anymore, it can get out of control quickly.

And then– get this– on the way out of the elevator, after ascertaining that one way or another there will be a second round of interviews and this isn’t happening in the next few days and I need to be patient, I ran into a friend of mine who was there to interview for the same job.  Who, in fact, I had listed as a reference on my application.

Luckily, she was also interviewing for a couple of other positions under the same umbrella, which made me feel a bit better, because– and I say this with full knowledge that she reads the blog and occasionally comments here– a good part of my brain was going I will step over your body if I have to for this while we were talking in the hallway, and I kinda prefer it if that part of my brain stays locked away, right?  That part of my brain is why I don’t drink, because it’s best for everyone if it never gets let out.

Fuck it, she’s known me for years, this is probably not a surprising reaction.

But yeah.  I think that went well.  But I’d prefer to know now, please, so if karma would take my toiling in the furniture mines into account and get this shit moving along, that’d be dandy, thanks.


My new book, Tales: The Benevolence Archives, Vol. 3 is now available for pre-order on Amazon!  Just $2.99 for the ebook edition!

Emerging from the wreckage

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I’ve said this before; in fact, I say it damn near every year: as someone who has been a union member and a union representative for damn near my entire adult life, I consider Labor Day my holiday in a way that is very unique to it.  I try to never forget that motherfuckers literally died so that the concept of the “weekend” could exist, much less a day where damn near everyone is expected to stay home and eat various grilled meats and swill alcoholic beverages.

Labor Day for the last couple of years has had a bit of a sting to it, because I’ve had to work and I do not like working on Labor Day.  I won’t complain about the money; the sales I made yesterday are going to earn me around $600 or so in commissions when they pay out, and making $600 in a single day of work is nothing to sneeze at.  This entire weekend was insanely busy, and today was nuts as well, and tomorrow I have another full day, because our present for Labor Day this year was that everyone on the staff gets to work another six hours longer than usual, and remember this is a job that is already 45+ hours every single week.

There are those who have it much worse, of course.  I’m aware of that.  But this, I think, will be the last time that I allow this to happen to me.  I’ve given enough hours of my life, enough weekends, to this job.  And this is about to be the second night in a row where I’ve gotten home from work at can’t-see at night and been in bed within half an hour.

Enough.  Time to find something else.

Okay so maybe I had nothing all week long too

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The story of the last two days has been racing my wife to see which of us can fall asleep quicker after putting the boy to bed when I get home from work.  There has been no time for bloggery.  There has barely been time for conversation.  It’s 7:36 as I write these words; I got home with the boy at around 4:30, she was home minutes afterwards, and I think I’ve been asleep in my recliner for the entire intervening period of time.

This weekend, I shall finish the final story in Tales from the Benevolence Archives, which is still Coming Very Soon.  Then I shall work for Saturday and Sunday, as is my recent tradition, and then– wait for it– I’m on vacation for a week, marking the first time in my adult life where I’ve chosen when a vacation was going to take place, which is kind of fascinating.  We’re visiting friends in Louisville and Kansas City and are probably swinging by my brother’s place in Chicago on the way back home.  There will be a lot of driving, but I’m excited about it, although I’m sure I’ll get cold feet and try to cancel the whole thing at least once between now and then.

I am seeking guest bloggers for that week, by the way, so if you have had a piece in mind that you’d like to share, feel free to hit me up in comments and let me know about it.  There are at least five days available– Monday to Friday of next week– and in the unlikely event that I get more people interested than that, I’ll either double some days up or fill a weekend day or two.

Still here, mostly

brainlessI don’t like single-daddery, guys.  We’re doing fine– the boy is still alive, as far as I know– but I’ve been in motion pretty much constantly since Sunday night.  Wake the boy up, get him dressed and fed, drop him off at my parents’, 11-hour work shift, pick him up, bring him home, put him immediately to bed, make sure all the pets are fed and watered, do one or two tiny things around the house, go to bed, spend the night getting kicked in the back by a horizontal five-year-old, wake up early, start again.  Wednesday I got out of work early but I actually had to go to a customer’s house for a service call afterward, which was… well, fun ain’t the word but it wasn’t as big of a deal as it could have been.  Today was my day off but I’ve spent most of it either napping or wandering around the house like a zombie, unable to figure out what I was supposed to be doing at any given moment unless that thing needed to be done in some other room.

To be clear: I just sat on the sofa in front of the TV with my laptop in my lap, wondering what I was supposed to be doing with it, for twenty solid minutes before remembering I hadn’t blogged in a few days. That kind of brainless.

Luckily for me, my wife is on her train and on her way back home, so if I can make it through tomorrow and Saturday everything will be fine.  It blows my mind that there are people who pull this off all the time.  Mental note: do whatever I need to do, for the rest of my life, to ensure my wife never leaves me.  🙂