Blogger Log Volume One Part Four: JOBNUMBER, The Nice

September 13, 2004 I've decided to post today, without any interesting turn of events in the past 24 hours, without any new thoughts, not even a fresh pair of underwear... yet. Here I am, hair askewed, listening to Jackie Chan's September Storm, getting hype on the New Police Story Movie. It looks pretty hype. Links are posted at http://Forums.Miltownkids.com, my crew's stomping grounds. Go there for the trailer and such, stay for the wierdness and comraderie that come with. As for me, I'm supposed to be at the machine shop welding some stuff together. But as of lately, all I've wanted to do was get back home to the Mil. (Milwaukee for the unknown). Right now, I really don't care if I was getting paid next week or not... I just can't wait to be back in a position where my life isn't hanging in limbo... not knowing where I'll be the next day, the next week, or the next month, wasting my life away for no reward and no recognition. At the very least, if I go back, I'll be able to once again attend classes. Get my life back together and start over again. I think I'd be much happier in that situation. Worry about myself and no one else. Save some money, buy a house, a boat, a bulldog, name him Mr. Shenanagans, (first name Baracus), and hopefully have little JOBNUMBER Jr's running around some day that I can enforce strict JOBNUMBER laws and knowledge upon. I've even toyed around with what I'd name my kids once they've entered the world. Names that I won't mention here, please forgive me, since there are some scandelous cats that might name their kids that first, and then I'll be left salty as a sea dog, whatever the hell that is. But, here I am. Mr. Too nice to say no. It's bad enough that I have been pretty much written out of the company, but here I am, too nice to say that if there's no future left for me here at this company, then I don't want to work anymore. If you can't afford to pay me, then I'd rather go back to Milwaukee, instead of doing tedious tasks to make sure you get your company the head start in the new territory and the glory that you're headed for, while I'm getting paid late and having to hear you moan about not having any money to feed your family. Nope, instead I offer to take the welding business to the Mil, making 15 grand a year... nearly four times less than what I was making before, and working almost twice as hard with no benefits. Mr. JOBNUMBER, so nice that it'd be a shame to let it go to waste, so let's squeeze every ounce we can get out of him. I don't need this... so why am I still here??? If it weren't for the parent company that he's working for, dangling a once in a lifetime chance to take over his old job here in St Louis, I would've been gone long ago. Sometimes, I wonder if the oppurtunity given me isn't just a courtesy given to my boss... so as to save face. Make it look like a genuine opportunity for me, get my hopes up, yet never once in their minds, have the thought of actually giving me the position. You know... just to make it look fine and dandy for the press. Too bad you didn't get it Jobby, better luck next time, at least you gave it your best... too bad it wasn't enough. No cares in the world that this is my life that they're rolling in their hands like a snowball that just won't form properly. I could be optimistic and go in one hundred and twenty percent charged up and ready to go... but for me optimism is dead, it died long ago, haven't paid my respects to the nearly departed... and I don't care to. I don't give a damn if I get the position or not. Hell... I don't even want the position. JOBNUMBER the nice, is so nice in fact, that if I don't take this opportunity, I, in some way or another, feel like I am letting my boss down. Like I would never hear the last of it if I didn't make the most of my rare chance. Hell, I don't even like St Louis. It only garnered my attention because of all the restaurants and shops that litter the streets like crackheads trying to wash your windows. But that's when I had money. The shops don't look too good, now that I'm broke as a joke, needing to sell the socks on my feet to stay afloat, looking like the same crackheads that I talked about ten seconds ago. Friends are free... and all my friends are in the Mil, where I want to be. well, except for the ones in MN and Taiwan. But what can you do, huh??? Keep everything bottled up... cry about it in your blog as though a magic fairy would read it, swoop down and make everything better with a Life-Sized Cure All Band Aid. The real dilemma is not what to do with my career, I could care less about money... but whether or not I should, (or CAN for that matter), let everyone down to make myself happy. Or let myself down to make everyone else happy, which I very well know that JOBNUMBER, The Nice can do... and do so very well. We'll see what happens, I guess.