I got a call from the agency this morning. An opportunity arose, and they thought of me immediately, because of where it was, and the impeccable timing that I would be available again right as they were looking. The moment I heard the words “convenient location,” and “Are you familiar with . . . ” I literally cringed, because I feared the name of the company that they were about to say.
Y’see, I applied at this company, and it’s currently #1 on my list of places I’d want to work, primarily for the location, but also because the job listing, and my job duties at this place would fit me like OJ Simpson’s glove (perfectly, damn it). One of the good things applying for this company was the fact that I had never freelanced there before, so a finder’s fee would not be come into play if I were to make it through. But anyway.
“Are you familiar with [name of my #1 choice company]?”
Yeah, big shocker.
Long story short, I told them that I was indeed familiar with company X, and that I would love to get my foot in the door with them and do some work for them, but if doing a freelance gig is going to jeopardize my chances at getting the full-time position with them, I would regrettably, have to decline on this freelance opportunity.
I didn’t really think my very first opportunity was going to result in this, but looking back, I can’t really say I’m surprised. In a perfect world, the agency peeps will find a way to convince company X to agree to a contract-to-perm situation, bring me in as a freelancer to give me a test drive, find out they fucking love my awesomeness, and transition me into full time with little concern to the correlating finders fees.
But the world ain’t perfect, so this is probably not going to happen. So it’s hoping for the best on my own accord, with clenched anoos and fingers crossed.
Just as I’ve really been able to settle into a nice routine of working out, sleeping sensibly, doing boring work while affording myself a lot of time for brogging or other personal writing endeavors, all while getting paid well, slightly seeing a little bit of financial breathing room, and dealing with a 30-mile commute that believe it or not, doesn’t suck . . . I find out today that tomorrow’s my last day, barring an apocalypse of work that would warrant needing me to stay longer.
The beginnings and endings of the Fries challenge from hell. It started off well, but went to hell real fast, with the impending doom of the fries constantly awaiting in the wings. By the time I gave up, the hardened, dried cheese resembled the alien symbiote that eventually became Venom and Carnage, instead of gooey cheese on the fries.
your choice of 4 of our 10 burgers, piled high with toppings and served with an enormous pile of cheese fries.
The fact that the word “enormous” was not defined, is the deadliest aspect of this challenge. The fact that the word “enormous” was not defined, is exactly why this thing shouldn’t really even be called a burger challenge.
It should be “Loaded French Fries challenge with a side of Hamburgers”
Needless to say, I failed quite horribly, although not nearly as bad Huzzard did. I consumed roughly three and 3/5 of the four hamburgers, and I didn’t put a noticeable dent in the estimated eight potatoes worth of loaded cheese fries that “were thrown in” to the challenge.
I felt that I was making good time, and if the limits of my body were greater than what I had already exhibited, I know I could have finished it. But the mountain of fries always being in sight proved to be adversity that clouded my mind with doubt and uncertainty, which ultimately led to my inevitable defeat. I’m seriously beginning to wonder if I’ll ever defeat any of the food challenges that I always seem to think I’m capable of toppling when I see them.
I had to go to my aunt in order to get a spare key to get in.
I did not know of any of this until about just before I was about to make my trip up to Virginia. And as funny as all this sounds, it really truly is just coincidence, but it’s a funnier story to explain it as such. Oh, I get along great with my parents, but they changed the locks on their house and went to Costa Rica.
Oh well. At least I’m comfortably in my old bed, in my old, pitch-black closet of a bedroom, even if it’s a completely empty house.
Tomorrow, or rather, well later today, I will embark on a burger challenge that I do not wish to incur failure. Photos will probably end up here soon afterward.
What, you thought they were all safe and comfy at Disneyland while Chris, Jill, Francis, Coach, Ellis and Zoey eradicated the zombies for the sake of humanity?
It’s kind of a no-brainer that kids were never really shown in any danger in zombie games, because of the perceived sensitive nature of such imagery, but take such factors out of play, and it’s assumed that since they’re dumb and frail, they’re simply the first to get wiped out.
Major props to the trailer for Dead Island, which unforgivingly puts together this fine trailer of horror, sadness, and raw defeated emotion, which has more or less sold me on the game, without me really knowing what it’s truly about, the mechanics, or anything else. And based on what little I have read about it, Dead Island sounds like the perfect one-player game for me to play when not indulging in zbs.
Brog | dannyhong | 
February 22, 2011 9:24 am | 
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