Wednesday, February 22, 2006

TGIW

Its good to be back in my cube where I can do personal stuff all day from a desk in a corner...
No. Seriously.
My body feels like a jello mold out of its bunt pan, my eyes refuse to fully open, my mind is in a swirl of reflection and decision making (both draining, btw), and my ENTIRE department is off site at a meeting and didn't tell me they wouldn't be here.
So here I sit, with one manilla folder of pages to look up for someone, and the rest of the day to recover from my long ass weekend.

OK, I went to Disneyland with Dad, the wife, and her daughter fresh out of rehab. So the kid hasn't seen TV or soda in 13 months and we take her to DISNEYLAND on her FIRST DAY off the ranch.
I haven't seen that kind of sugar crash since I watched a 3 year old after a box of Pixie Stix.
And her mom was on sensory overload as well... by 6pm they were on the tram to the hotel - both days.
That left Pops and I to troll Dland for something to do. I was told to plan on 5 specific things; when asked when he wanted to do them he said they weren't THAT important to him. When asked what he wanted to do before I went on my merry way, he said 'buy you somehting' in an emphaticly strained squeel.
Alright, so its 8pm the night before I go home and we go through the MAJOR store chain on main street and I, knowing I have repeatedly told him how I resent that he refuses his lack of building a relationship with me and the only reason I maintain any contact with him is because I may someday need financial support and he can find it for me, choose my items carefully so as not to fill my home with things reminding me I can be bought. The register operator asks "did you find everything alright?" and I reply "yes" as Dad rifles through the bins at the counter. Grand Total: $16.16.
Flash forward to racing through crowds gathered to watch the fireworks to get in line for Space Mountain (what changed after all that time out of operation? NOTHING.), then another trip through Main Street shops just because I didn't want to go yet. I find the watch shop... I remember every clock and watch we had as kids came from this shop. I go to the counter with the hand designed and painted faces on the $200-$500 timepeices of heavenly artistry. I admire the craftsmanship and the detail and the entire case display. I move on to the $75 range, looking at Dad in his $68 sweater he bought yesterday, knowing that he has money to burn and that I have asked him for the time no less than 3,672 times in the last 48 hours. He finds me at the OTHER $200 counter, and directs me to the rack of plastic bands in plastic packages hanging behind me with a gentle "this is more in your price range" reminder.
And with that we left the park, I dropped him at the hotel, and somehow drove away without running over his toes.

I got lost on the way home. I am used to taking the 5; I now live off the 101. So instead of taking a freeway junction I know down the road, I decide to get off the freeway, get on going the other direction, and repeat so I can catch the merger. 25 minutes later after a midnight tour of DownTown LA, I am confident in saying I will NEVER live on the streets, that there is nothing exciting about the real LA nightlife (unless you like that Primal Fear button hit every 14 seconds), and that somehow in a city obsessed with driving there are no signs directing you to a freeway unless you are AT the onramp.

I get home at 1am. I am tired, my feet hurt, Aunt Flo finally barged in after two days of ringing the doorbell, and T walks in and asks how it went.
I get to bed at 2am. I know I should read up on the companies I will interview for in the morning, but figure I can do it in the am. I wake at 8am, roll over and wake again at 9:15am, and chill with the dogs and nap again until 10:05.
I get lost trying to get to my noon appt three towns away. I can see the buildings from the freeway, but they are 8 one way street blocks from the freeway. It was a group interview, I sit through it, and get invited to a second interview.
I loose my parking ticket for the parking garage IN MY CAR and have to ask 3 cars to back up in order to get out of cue, reverse into a spot and stand up to see it leaning against the seat belt reciever. Yeah. Fun. And only severly embarassing to kill the buzz of being told that I TOO can be just like them.
I race back to my town for my 2pm interview. I am not on the list. The girl I talked to is out of the office. I sit and register online in their office since I didn't get the memo to do that earlier. I meet with someone whos been at the job two weeks and who applied to all the same jobs I did at my current Corporate America place. Ugh. She is excited at my quick talk and big smile and tells me she has a few ideas of places I would be interested in, but that my current pay is WAY above what they will be able to offer. I knew C.A. was a severe step up in pay and that I can't expect every company to match it I tell her. She lets me know that her best offer would be ::drum roll: at THEIR office.
Thats right folks. I don't get an extension at my current position because and a temp agency that sees 100 people a day wants ME to fill a spot with THEM.
BooYa.

So I meet the district manager or whoever the big shot is this afternoon.
I feel like jello, my body aches, stairs are my enemy of the day along with any other form of not being laid up in bed with a pup or kitty as a heating pad, and the coffee caffienated my soreness instead of my wit - but I have a second interview at a company that sees 100 people a day and liked me so much they wanted to keep me for themselves.


The REALLY cool thing is that I told them flat out that I get bored, that I will stop coming to work on time if I don't have anything to do, and that my brain needs to be used at least once a month in order to keep me from looking elsewhere. They said "we will not let you get bored, and we see that this position is certainly a starting ground for you, not a permanent place for someone with your skills and desire to get the job done."
BooYadaYa.

So here I sit, with one manilla folder waiting for my attention and an hour until lunch.
And about 15 emails from friends, family, and bloggers I think I'll attend to before getting to do anything I am getting paid to be here for =)

4 comments:

Bent Fabric said...

It's too bad your dad's paranoia gets in the way of you guys forging a relationship.

BooYa indeed!! Congratz, you're on a roll! :)

Lightning Bug's Butt said...

So they didn't change Space Mountain any?

Damn!

Mom of Three said...

First of all, thanks for letting me know that Space Mountain is the same as before, as that should save me an hour in line if I don't get a Fast Pass.

Second of all, I hope you get whatever job you want! Go for it, girl!

Okay, so we knew that the the Dland trip was gonna be hard. But I can't wait until you're in a position to NOT need him for emergency moola.

curmudgeon said...

Way to go Sassy! Sounds good so far.

And to echo "mom's" sentiments, it will be good when you can say HAH! I don't even have to keep you in mind for money now!


fftooa? Strange.