As a whole, 2010 sucked. Good Riddance.

I often think it is cliche the way people sum up entire years, this time of year, but then again, it’s so often done when things aren’t very good.  I can be fortunate to say that I haven’t really had too many bad years as wholes, and the last one that genuinely comes to mind is back in like 2002.  With all that in mind, in the pessimistic world we live in, I suppose it simply is easier to blabber about something when it’s more like a trainwreck than a sappy, warm, feel-good story.

In a nutshell, 2010 has sucked great big, gigantic, sweaty goat balls, overall.  I’m ecstatic to see that it’s mercifully coming to a close, and I’m praying that 2011 treats me, and treats Jen a whole lot better than 2010 did, because I’m not sure if I’ll have enough black hairs left to turn white by the end of next year if this shit keeps up.  With great trepidation, I clench my anoos, fearing that there’s still time for more discouraging, cringe-inducing bullshit to occur, and as evidenced by recent events, there’s no such thing as coasting to the finish.

But not to say that 2010 was 100% pure rubbish.  There were a few good things that happened this year.  And to start off this conclusive post on a positive note, let’s get the good shit out of the way so I can talk about all the shitty shit that happened that most people are more intrigued about anyway:

Continue reading “As a whole, 2010 sucked. Good Riddance.”

Only three more days

It was naive of me to be optimistic, driving down I-285 at 55 mph exactly on cruise control as irate drivers and semis raced past me, that I wouldn’t have to do this again under such circumstances.  After all, the shop had called me to let me know that my new wheel had arrived, and that as long as I arrived before 5:00 p.m., the new wheel could be installed.  So I left BBC three hours short of a full day despite the fact that I need the hours and I need the money, because having a safe car to drive is slightly higher priority in order to facilitate the pursuit of the hours and money in the future.  Only to be told after waiting for 90 minutes that the wheel they received was not the correct fucking wheel for my fucking vehicle and that I would not be leaving the shop with a new fucking wheel but instead still on the fucking donut that I fucking drove in fucking on.

I like to tell myself that I’m a fairly even-keeled person, but I’m not going to sugarcoat the fact that right now, I’m boiling-over livid.  Under these circumstances, I don’t care if it was the shop, or Mazda, but the bottom line is that there was a mistake somewhere in the process, and I’m the only fucking party that is going to suffer as a result of it. And not just the $450 it’s going to cost me to replace the fucking wheel, but now the fact that I’m going to have to forfeit even more hours at a place that actually pays a good rate, because someone, somewhere, fucked up, due to incompetence, stupidity, or both, and there is going to be no accountability for the situation, and the only one who loses money is fucking me.  Some warehouse idiot motherfucker isn’t going to lose his job over a careless error, and certainly someone at the shop who may or may not have fed Mazda incorrect information isn’t going to lose their job over a potential careless error.  But I have to miss more hours of work in order to take my fucking lemon of a fucking car back to the fucking shop, so that I can get a new fucking wheel put on this piece of shit.  How is this even fair?  I’m not the one who made any mistakes in this situation.  The people who did aren’t going to get their pay docked, and I’m going to not make as much money as I need to, because of them.  I know I’m not fucking perfect, and I make mistakes too, in my profession.  But often times, there are paid proofreaders to ensure that my mistakes don’t go on to cost the end clients a lot of money.  I’m beginning to wonder why other lines of work don’t have proofreaders; it’s becoming transparently apparent that other occupations could use some fuck-up prevention in their process, and the country certainly needs jobs.

I’m a very naive person, apparently.  I give the benefit of the doubt to people far too often, and as a result, I’m often disappointed at the results.  Here’s a New Year’s Resolution for 2011: start assuming more people are fucking idiot retards until proven differently.  Because when the world of strangers inevitably disappoints me, at least I won’t be upset as a result of surprise.

Conclusions from World Championship Wrestling #2

   

For the last seven business days, I was back working at WCW, but this time in the Power Plant, and not for Saturday Night. This was very pleasing to me to simply be back there, and I’m admittedly a little sad that my second go-around is over after just two weeks, and not like the 15-month stint the first time around. But regardless, I enjoyed my time back on familiar grounds again, and who the hell knows what lies ahead for my wacky freelance career that doesn’t seem to end.

But anyway, without giving up too much information, basically, I did a ton of research for pretty much every NCAA school. I’ve learned of schools that I didn’t even know even existed, as well as discovering the various mascots and colors used throughout the country’s vast network of colleges. And here are some conclusions from my recent assignment:

Continue reading “Conclusions from World Championship Wrestling #2”

Irony is . . .

Being so good at what I do, that the company realizes that they only need one freelancer instead of two, and opt to keep me.  But then being so good at what I do, that I breeze through the rest of the project which was projected to be finished on December 1, today, thus potentially putting myself into a position where I essentially worked so efficiently, to the point where I might supplant myself.

One positive to a rekindled angst

With my head not necessarily on straight these past days, I’m finding it easier to run in the mornings.  Furthermore, due to the fact that the current gig is 47 miles from my house, in the worst traffic part of Metro Atlanta, I’ve forced myself to wake up at 6:30 a.m., instead of forfeiting any working out at all.  And at least for the last three days, waking up at 6:30 has been less troublesome than when I awoke at 7 a.m. in order to run and do some working out prior to getting to whatever gigs want me there at 9:30-10.

Or maybe it’s the subconscious reminder of rejection that is unconsciously driving me to want to improve myself further again, starting with the physicality, and making running and lifting in the mornings less of a nuisance, and more of a motivation.  Maybe it’s just the structured routine that I’m always aspiring to have that’s doing it.  Either way, good for me, for exercising.

The work itself is easy, time-consuming, and in a way, therapeutic.  I can more or less turn off my brain and mow through assignments like a weedwacker.  Two freelancers were brought in to undertake this project, and I felt that it was unnecessary.  Turns out that I was right, and that while I’m still here, the other guy was sent home.  Not to toot my own horn, but I know I’d be an asset to any fucking company that just had the balls to actually hire me.

A cranberry vodka sounds like a fantastic way to end the day.