Weekly Log - 12 through 18

Monday Oct 12

You can party like there's no tomorrow, still you know the next day is Monday, and you've gotta get yourself to work. And even if you attempt to forsake your worries for the weekend (in which I failed horribly), come Monday they'll be here waiting for you like a congregation of evil grinning imps, set for a new fight. It's like a boxing episode of Looney Tunes: the round count is endless and the rules are being kept by a fuckin' rabbit. Gunnysacking? Fuck yes.

Mum changed her mind (happens very often now) and is telling me to fight for this house this time. I am all for it: I picked this place because I liked it. Not the area, but the house itself. Fuck the area: when I close my front door, the world outside disappears. The perspective of moving yet again and picking up all my shit to take it somewhere else is not a dear one, either. There may be a way, so let's do it. let's do anything. Just don't tell me to fuckin' wait: I've been waiting forever!

It seems too simple, you know? Where's the hidden dagger? I can't see one, but I know there must be one. Things are never simple for me. There has to be something else in this story...

Mum's stroll down to the South is still assured. She spends a good deal of time reminding me why: my grandparents are old, someone has to take care of them, someone has to take care of their business. They won't last for long. I've been hearing this rap for years: they won't last for long. I'm sorry if it's so hard to believe this time. They've yelled "wolf" often enough to discredit themselves.

Today I'm left with Pops.... another pain in my crack. Dinner went quietly. More and more I get the feeling my father is disappointed in himself, and that is dawns on him he has a 24 year old daughter he knows absolutely nothing about. I don't worry about it, though. When I stretched out my hand, he refused to take it. I'm sorry, but I'm 24, I have a job I need to excel at, a brother to keep, a house to find, debts to pay, shit to clean. It's not my place anymore to worry about that. I went, I ate, I made pleasant conversation, I came back home.

Ave, Monday. Those who are about to die salute you.

Tuesday Oct 13

I forgot my cellphone at home this morning. I also forgot to restock my bag with the usual pankiller and aspirin, and crow knows I need one or the other today. I think I'm getting a cold which manifests in the form of very annoying coughing. It's a pain in the ass, to be talking to a client and suddenly get tossed into a coughing fit. Nearly cost me a sale today.

I also got confirmation I'm gonna see Depeche Mode next month... a friend bought me a ticket (seriously Annie, you shouldn't have... thank you so much. I promise I won't mope around mid-concert and I won't be crying if they sing Home this time. This is one I want to enjoy to the fullest). Hot damn!

Wednesday Oct 14

Boy is the morning rotten when you're having a good snooze. You know I'm still thinking about that contact where I coughed? Especially because I've been keeping an eye out for better job offers, and the market gets uglier with each passing day. I advise anyone who fears Death to take a gander at the state of unemployment in this country, so they have something more tangible to fear.

Well, let's not be hasty. I never gained anything from showing my game and worrying about the bet. I'm still seeking offers, constantly in fact, but I plan to hold my seat with this gig for as long as it's humanly possible. I have to make sure nothing will stand between me and this job. I'm not taking days, I'm not taking chances, and whoever tries to fire me will have a very rotten time explaining to me the why. I'm not losing this one on my own accord.

In fact, today was one of those motherfucker days at work. I was about to hit record refusals. I hate people who decide, in mid call, they're too fuckin' important to answer a survey. I'm not sure anymore if it's the task that's ungrateful, if the people are ungrateful, or if more people should be ran over by buses. A comforting though is that the Universe is completely indifferent to us all, including people like this, and nobody is really that important. I hang on to it whenever my day's being shit.

Thursday Oct 15

Someone once suggested that this reality is another planet's Hell. I think it was Aldous Huxley, but I don't wanna lead you wrongly on that one. I've always seen Hell in a sort of different light. Punishment should fit the crime, we have all heard, but more importantly, punishment should fit the punished. Hell as most religions conceive it is a self-sufficient system: demons, fire, physical pain when you no longer have a physical body, and thanks to some Italian dude the Church didn't like all that much, some of the most creative things ever to haunt the imaginations of scholars and literature students everywhere.

Everyone loves a personalized service, and I don't think Hell is any different. If we believe popular wisdom, Death treats everyone the same, it's once you're past it that you go on to be treated as you deserve. It would be rather unfair that we were all punished the same. It can be torture for me to be skewered while I listen to Brazilian music, but someone who likes Brazilian music won't feel the same, right? And if we're talking about neverending powers and possibilities, I do think Hell should come at a more personal level. So how about a personal Hell, meant to keep you in fear, distress, pain and suffering for finite or infinite amounts of time?

A personal Hell. Can you imagine something as bad, or worse, than physical pain? Frustration? Guilt? Fear? How about sheer panic? Can you build your own personal Hell? I think we do.

Friday Oct 16

Slow day at work. I did manage to complete 21 sales - a personal record - by the end of the day. I have a feeling this isn't going to last: calls were flowing better than they usually do.

Murphy pretty much left me alone today (thank crow the bastard is busy fucking himself somewhere else), so it was slow and quiet. I spent my evening browsing the Internet for houses for rent. Whatever my situation is, I want to be ready for it: if I keep the place, I keep the place, and if I have to move, I want to know where beforehand.

Two places are for rent just across the street from where I currently am. One has all its divisions painted lime green (oh sweet Mustakrakish on a stick... the places people live in... wonder what they'll say about mine when I move...) and the other has no pictures, but it's pretty much the same building. I don't know - maybe a rental home is the best option. I'll be out in the street if they decide I am (with a period to move my shit elsewhere of course), but the price difference is astronomical. I saw places at half my current rent a month... and I'm still doubting I can keep this house anyway.

I ended up pretty depressed by day's end, bought some beer, fired up some punk rock and drank it. That about did it. I went to bed back to my normal, angry self.

Weekend Oct 17 - 18

Not much to do, no money to go out anyway. I stayed home and looked at the computer monitor. So many years and I still am amazed at the things I can conjure up on it. Got the word quota back in order - forgot to update the blog. I have a lot of shit do review, but I sometimes get a hard time reviewing it. In how many words can you review a real piece of shit? One: shit!