I interviewed for a generic office position in this labyrinthine office park complex this morning. It went well but I'm not going to get that particular position. And really, nor do I particularly want to mold myself into the sort of person who would be the right fit for that. Can't jam a tetrahydral peg into a pinhole, I suppose.
So the search for a job that doesn't make me want to jump off the Tobin yet also affords me enough money to move out and not starve remains ongoing. All sorts of things are up for consideration. So, I spend hours staring at my laptop screen, my eyes disintegrating from the light as well as the content. Man, I can't even believe how much horrible shit is out there and that people spend their lives doing it. Are they really that boring that they don't mind living and working in the equivalent of an ant maze doing a job that will be outsourced to either the third world or a "friendly" robot within the next few years? Why there is so much completely unfulfilling and ultimately pointless bullshit out there is something too frustrating to ponder further. The vast majority of what society has constructed to maintain an artificial consumer class is fucking horrible. I'm making myself sick here. Well, I suppose once saddled with dependents and a mortgage and things of that ilk, one's concerns tend to shift away from "intellectual stimulation" and "personal growth" and "fulfilling life experience" and "doing something awesome that is actually enjoyable rather than a suicidal gesture" towards the more banal but still important "being responsible and shit", etc. Rather than continue to contemplate that vicious infinite regress of that particular hell and ponder ways to join its discontents, I'm also considering more bohemian ventures that would allow me to be less tied down to any particular position such as nude modeling. I reckon that perhaps it will help me overcome my various and sundry vagina monologues-quality body image issues. Contradicting myself, I also just applied to a finance job. Which, for females, may as well be nude modeling. I feel as though I should have some sort of ideological opposition to that industry as a whole, but at least some of those guys don't even pretend that they're just shuffling around made up things. Trading "futures" up in the shiny glass box tower somewhere in the financial district is merely few steps in prestige and degree attainment above rolling dice in the alley below. I have a feeling that whatever I just applied for is not actually a job but the equivalent of a fishing lure -- one of those too weird and too good to be true jobs made up by staffing agencies in the financial district to actually attract folks like me in for soul pulverizing temp positions doing the most inane tasks in the middle of nowhere New Hampshire for barely above minimum wage. Fuuuuuck that. I bet they won't even call back!
How's that for a positive mental attitude? Eh, I've been trying to work on it.
This is from 2005 I'm fairly sure. I was looking at it last night and thinking "Man, how could you have ever thought you sucked?"
