Corner of Bourbon & Division

I am determined to go to bed, well, if not early, then at least not ridiculously late. To that end, I shall keep this post short.

The NaNo meet-up was, as usual, a lot of fun. I was a little too tired to enjoy it properly, another indication that I should get more sleep tonight. Tomorrow, as well as additional wordcount, there will be job searching. There. I've said it out loud (or written it in public, same thing), and that makes it real. I have two places to contact about dispatching jobs. Dammit, there is no reason for me not to call and at least inquire. No more self-sabotage, Phnee! No giving into Shithead. You've written 65,000 words in fifteen days, you can make two lousy phone calls.

Okay. Going to bed. I shall get up at 8am with my alarm clock tomorrow. I shall get up and have a productive day.

In other news, I have made my "rainbow socks" icon my default for LJ. It cheers me up every time I look at it. Did I mention that toughlovemuse not only gave me two pairs of rainbow socks on Saturday, she also gave me four more pairs on Monday? Now every day can be a rainbow socks day, as long as I do laundry at least once a week! Isn't that exciting? I know I'm excited. :)

Right. I'm off to bed. Good night, all!

At least, that's how I feel right now. And I slept for ten hours and have had three cups of coffee this morning.

I would take a nap, but today I must, must go to my temp agency to pick up my ROE so that I can get my EI ball rolling. Must get dressed and go. I will do that soon. Yes.

As soon as I can pry myself out of this chair, that is.

Wordcount for zombocalypse has increased, but the scene isn't over yet. I'm taking my time with it partly on purpose, partly out of being really tired. I don't want to mess up this scene.

I have a sort of plan percolating in my mind, and may do something about it this week. Updates as warranted.

Just found out my job is gone. I've got two weeks' notice, then I have to find work elsewhere. It's not me: they like me. They're just broke and can't keep most of their employees.

This sucks. I really liked this job. I was looking forward to making the position truly my own. I love the people here. This really, really sucks.

So I have a line on a job. Turns out the company ashforestwalker works for needs a receptionist/secretary/admin type person to keep their office running smoothly. They've had a run of bad luck, what with the first girl leaving to pursue her studies, the second one getting screwed over by the government concerning her student visa, and the third girl walking out after less than three days because, get this, there was "too much English" being spoken in the office.

So, given that this is a construction company, and that I have experience in transport and construction as well as in office administrattion, well, frankly, if they'd tailored the job to my skills it couldn't be a better match. It's also permanent, full-time (40 hours a week instead of 37.5, too) and pays more.

I have an interview tomorrow at 6:30pm after work. I spoke with the boss!guy over the phone today, and so far it seems pretty promising. We're just going to see if I'm a fit, personality-wise, and just get a feel for how things would play out if I went to work there. If all goes well, I'll be starting next week.

Wish me luck!

I have no real reason to be feeling depressed. Well, yes, there's all the financial stress going on, but I'm doing my best to deal with that. I guess it's just a minor attack of the "Oh gods, why meeeeee?"s, which happens to the best of us on occasion.

I dislike feeling sorry for myself. It strikes me as a waste of time, and so when I do feel sorry for myself it just makes me annoyed. I spent many, many years being angry as a result. ;)

I dropped off my CV at Chapters and Indigo today, and applied online for a job to which silly_imp pointed me. The CBC site is stupid: it doesn't confirm that your application went through. I certainly hope the form worked. I am vastly underqualified for the job, but it would totally and absolutely rock if I got it. I think I'd do the job well, but I don't have the requisite experience and contacts in the Canadian literary world that they're calling for.

Why, oh why, do ALL jobs seem to require 5+ years' experience? Seriously, I've only been on the job market for four years (almost four and a half). How on Earth am I supposed to get a job if all jobs want you to have had a job for five years already? *sigh*

I've still been looking assiduously for emergency dispatch jobs, and thus far there hasn't even been a nibble. Nothing in emergency, and the jobs doing regular old dispatching are either only part-time or much too far away.

I think I'll head to bed early-ish tonight. Possibly lack of sleep is contributing to this latest bout of melancholy.

I posted this up on my cubicle wall at work. Thus far no one has noticed:

Okay, first things first. If you aren't reading the_exclamation, why the hell aren't you? Go read. Go now. Do not dilly-dally. Seriously, your life will be the richer for it.



In other news, filing is t3h b0r1ng. Luckily, and thanks to my fantastic and marvellous and extraordinarily generous friends, in a few months I may never have to do anyone's filing ever again. This makes me happier than words can express.

I'm seeing a light at the end of the tunnel with regards to the filing. I had a pile that was literally a foot and a half high last week, and I've been chipping away at it steadily since about Wednesday. Now it's only about three inches thick.

Mind you, I haven't been filing it *properly*, in the sense that I've only been shoving the stuff into a large folder in alphabetical order. Once I've put all the papers in alphabetical order (and then by date), *then* I can actually put them in the filing cabinets. However, it does mean my job is nearly half done.

I've also got rid of most of my backlog of other pending work which generally gets put on the backburner due to "emergency" stuff. I still have a bill to organise, a couple of board sheets to process (that counts as "emergency," mind you), and The One Form has resurfaced, since there's a charge on there that I didn't understand and that Boss!Lady now wants me to research. Have I mentioned how much I hate that form?

Anyway, the point of all this is that I want to get all this work done so that I can leave here with a clear conscience the minute another job opportunity shows its face. Once I pass all my dispatcher courses, I want to be able to leave ASAP and without feeling bad that I'm leaving a pile of unfinished work for whoever they'll get to replace me.

Technically, as it happens, because of the particular nature of my temp work, I don't actually have to give two weeks' notice. The sword cuts both ways, of course, since they don't have to give me two weeks' notice either, but in this case the advantage is mine. See, they need me here. L cannot manage the workload on her own. So it's unlikely that they'd let me go unless I really screw up in a monumental way.

On the other hand, I've always prided myself on leaving every single one of my jobs on the best possible terms with my employers. Even at Bell Mobility and the Stupid Scaffolding Company From Heck(TM), I left on amicable terms and left a good impression behind. So, I want to give as much notice as I can to the bank and not leave a pile of unfinished work behind.

I am seeing the light at the end of the tunnel, and all indicators point to it not being a train.

So I ran around like a headless chicken to get my application all put together. I got all the documents I needed, addressed the envelope, put stamps on it, signed my cover letter, sealed the whole thing, and then realized there wasn't a mailbox around.

"No problem," think I. "There's a mailbox not too far from home. When I get back from my dance class, I'll mail it then."

...

Hah. Hah! I say now to that. Famous last words.


When I got back from my dance class, I realised I'd forgotten the envelope in the "safe place" where I'd put it at the club so it wouldn't get misplaced or damaged.

*sigh*

I'm going there tonight, and it will be going directly in the mail then.

Did I mention blisteringly stupid? There are times when I amaze even myself.

Okay, yeah, so I'm procrastinating. Procrastinating a lot, in fact, on sending out this fax to register for the dispatcher course.

Partly it's because I'm not sure I have the money. But that's not really what's stopping me.

Mostly it's sheer, unadulterated terror. I have a job. An unstable, boring, repetitive, and unrewarding job, but a job. One I know I can do. I have no such certainties about dispatching. Part of me is convinced this is too good to be true. How could I possibly ever learn to do emergency dispatch during two courses that last two weekends each? It seems unrealistic.

The rational bit of my brain is pointing out that, even if four weekends isn't enough, it'll still be a start. The irrational bit of my brain is running around in circles, alternately flapping its arms and wringing its hands.

If I put this off long enough, there won't be any room left to register. I have to pull out my credentials (these people insist that I prove I finished high school, imagine that!) and fax those along with my registration form. Ironically enough, I don't have my high school diploma anymore. No idea where it went. I do have my diploma from McGill, though, so that should do just as well, hopefully. I mean, if I went to university, it follows that I finished high school, right?

I think my McGill diploma is in a box at my parents' place. So that means going there and trying to dig it out of wherever it's stored. Meep.


There is no really good reason for me not to do any of this. Finding the diploma wouldn't take that long. Sending the fax would take even less time. Gah.

Of course, that would make it real.


...


Am I allowed to go hide in a corner until this all goes away?


...


I thought not.

So I just called the nice lady at Collège Montmorency, and she said there's still room available in the dispatcher course that I mentioned in this post.

So now I have to scrape together $250 and register.

The question is, of course, which course do I want to take? There's one in February, which means fewer scheduling problems but less time to scrape together the money. Money is definitely a consideration since Capricornucopia is in three weeks (official announcement to come sometime today), and that costs money too. It would be on the 18th and 19th as well as the 25th and 26th of the month.

The same dates apply to March, which would mean more time to scrape together the money I need to register, but it also directly conflicts with the next gig date for Invisible and Random Colour. Granted, the class lasts from 8am to 4:30pm, and so in theory I would be in time for the gig, but it also means no morning practice that day, which is a Bad Thing(TM).

Taking the course in March also has the advantage of being closer to the time when the next set of courses would start, namely the ones in which I'm supposed to specialise. Less chance of forgetting everything I know before taking another course.

Gah.

I hate it when Big Important Life Stuff conflicts with other Important Life Stuff.