Pork Pie Kibble *

In which our weary Hero is a smartass with varying degrees of success

In the last entry, I mentioned one of the younger cousins emailing me with a bucketload of questions. Delving into the details, she even had a few “interview” questions that came having read my blog. Which felt just a little bit weird and creepy because I have no idea how you’d find it without looking. Still feeling embarrassed by the irregularly and irregu-quality of that site, I capped my email with an apology for the content of the blog.

Her reply: “it’s not bad at all! The way you write makes me smile because I can hear how you’d say it. Have some blogging pride man! ;)”

She may be a brat, but I can’t say she’s wrong.

I wrote a long rant about work that bored even me, so here’s the highlights:

The work situation persists. The “Imminent in days” offer is still waiting, now, 3 months later. It’s always amazing to me how asymmetric companies can be. They can say “We’d like to completely change your working circumstances, pay and benefits, we’ll get back to you in a week or so” and then say nothing for 3 months. All I’ve gotten since are variously qualified rumours.

Let me try responding in kind. “Oh yeah, I’m going to accept your job offer” and see if they hold the position open for me when I get back to them in three months.

But I’m so profoundly not impressed. A favourite just wrote of relationship flags and it occurs to me that the same applies here in many ways. And at so many levels, this is a bad fit.

• I would not be proud of my job
• I don’t trust the client, which means that I’d have to ask for a lot more contractual riders that they’re unlikely to accept
• I don’t trust the client, which means that the only actual value of the riders would be if I decided to sue them later when they inevitably screw me over
• Either I take a massive pay cut or I’m going to be making too much to fit comfortably into their existing bands, which will make things awkward with my managers

On the other hand, it gives me the illusion of security.

I’d walk away now but the work doesn’t get altogether demanding and I have a lot of flexibility (especially now, as an independent). It’s the right priority, because it allows me to focus on life over work, but being triumphantly half-assed in the land of the ass-less is not something that sits entirely right with me.

And isn’t that a funny kind of ingratitude for my good fortune of having a job in this economy.

(shrug)

At least I saved you a thousand other words of ranting-in-detail, Gentle Reader.

For three weeks I’ve been stuck because I can’t get a response from support. Last night, I emailed them again, recapping the problem, and closing with:

“I realize this isn’t entirely your problem, but I’ve been waiting three weeks and lately my manager has been walking by my desk with a disturbing smile and a baseball bat. Any help would be really appreciated.”

The answer was in my mailbox this morning.

And the moral of the story is that it’s okay to be a bastard, just be a funny bastard. ;P

(Suddenly I recall I have been called precisely that. Good times.)

Are there any special tricks/tips for women to deal with the joys of winter? I’m trying to prepare in case circumstances bring Nocturne here while there’s snow.

Speaking of, I just cause herself giggle thoroughly because apparently “Chorizo” starts with a different phonoeme from “Chris.”

Sometimes language just conchs you in the head.

(That would be funny if a) it was out loud and b) you are from the right place that pronounces the word in the right way, which c) is not where Nocturne is from, to my giggled-at regret.)

I guess I should write something new in my blog. Blooooog. God what an undignified word. Blog blog blog. Blogityyyyyblog.

Not at all like writing in my diary, which leaves me feeling dignity (albeit of a fourteen-year-old girl. Fortunately all the fourteen-year-old girls I know kick ass)

*EDIT*

Just so you can share the experience, Gentle Reader, Nocturne is on the line with me, and she’s typing away and every once in a while she stops typing and just starts to laugh, and then the typing starts again.

And I’m laughing along with her, because it’s funny to listen to, but also, I’m scared!