« January 2005 | Main | March 2005 »
February 26, 2005
firmzzzzs
Mysteriously, nearly a month after I interviewed at firm X, a partner calls me on my cellphone at 9 at night (last night. a FRIDAY.) and tells me that I have an offer. The phone was sitting right next to me and I recognized the area code but not the number, so I didn't answer. Good thing, considering the last person on earth I was expecting to call me was this guy, and I'd already had two beers and some weed (note: i know i'm killing brain cells. these are the brain cells that make me a stressed out nut case and they deserve to die).
so....now what? what the fuck do i do? i honestly expected to either (i) never hear back or (ii) hear that they weren't interested. so now i have a callback with another, much smaller firm on Thursday which I'm really not too interested in and was thinking of using as my fallback (firm X is a much better fallback), and haven't heard back from another smaller firm, that I really liked. while I was there I kind of liked the people at Firm X, but they are trying to start up a NY style practice (ick) and one guy did kind of pressure me to divulge information about clients which he must have known was confidential. BUT on the other hand, if i just take it i won't have to interview anymore (a bruising, soul-killng experience), it can't possibly be worse than where i am now, and i have no doubt it will look much better on my resume than firms Y and Z, which while fine firms don't have the cachet this one has. but could i be happier at firm Y or Z?
and then how to break this to the headhunter, who i neglected to tell that i interviewed at firm x because i just didn't think in a million years THIS would happen. and why, god, do i care about what the headhunter thinks? WHAT DID MY PARENTS DO TO ME TO MAKE ME CARE ABOUT A HEADHUNTER'S FEELINGS??
so tell me what to do, i'm at a loss.
(oh and c., you're in bed sleeping and lily and my stress about this woke me up. so i'm typing this entry listening to itunes shuffle all 2,298 of our songs, and an ani difranco song just came on and i'm sorry but I STILL LIKE ANI DIFRANCO BETTER THAN STEREOLAB so suck it. love you!)
(and to the rest of you: yes i realize the ridiculousness of stressing over a great job offer when other people can't get jobs. i live in a prison of irrational stress so pointing this out really won't help).
Posted by me at 09:10 AM | Comments (2) | TrackBack
February 20, 2005
ashambles
oh my god i cannot talk to my girlfriend. i'm in chicago, her cellphone died and we don't have a landline.
i need to say goodnight :(
Posted by me at 10:16 PM | Comments (1) | TrackBack
February 19, 2005
stressed
times 4.
ugh.
Posted by me at 10:29 PM | Comments (0) | TrackBack
February 17, 2005
but wait it gets worse
this entry was going to be about the week from hell--the week from hell that isn't even over yet. it was going to be about, in no particular order: missing chinese new year, missing valentine's day, working all weekend, working 60 hours between sunday and today, fuckwad landlords, being locked out the one day i got out "early" at 9:30pm, cramps, bleeding pints, unintentionally annoying coworkers, temper tantrums, dirty clothes and...
AND
coming home at 4:30 in the morning to wait an hour, take a shower, turn around and get to penn station by 7:30 to take a train to Delaware, only to settle down at 4:45 with reruns of "cops" and a diet pepsi in hopes of staying awake to have the cats knock over the full can of diet pepsi (they actually flipped it over: it landed on its top. that is how completely god wanted to make sure he pissed me off). on my hands at knees in the dark, trying not to wake c., soaking up a full can of diet pepsi.
so that's what this entry was supposed to be about: how miserable i am. but it's not going to be about that.
i'm miserable this instant but my life is not miserable. my life is wonderful, and her name is c--well, monkey. monkey, you are so beautiful, so sweet, so perfect for me--thank you. i don't know what i'd do without you. happy belated valentine's day. you make me a sappy, non-miserable retard. a retard of loge.
Posted by me at 04:38 AM | Comments (1) | TrackBack
February 12, 2005
in the cold light of day
i'm sitting here, Lily on my lap with the laptop on the couch next me (yes, this is an uncomfortable position to type from), watching some HD special on Chihuly in Venice (which, for some reason, Ann Richards is in. Why is Ann Richards in Venice with Dale Chihuly? It has to be Ann Richards, it looks just like her.) I'd never seen a picture of this guy before, but this wasn't at all what I was expecting. He looks like he should be throwing back a couple of Miller's in Toledo, bitching about his old lady to the 75 year old bartender who is only pretending to listen but is actually concentrating on the whiskey on ice he has hidden under the bar.
I'm sitting here, not sure what to do with myself. It's noon and C. is gone in Philly with Chi-squared, and I have to work tomorrow so I couldn't go, and I'm at a loss. And I look at Lily and exclaim:
"Should we do taxes today? Let's do taxes!" and she's purrs.
Yes, today, we shall do taxes.
I wish I was 17 again.
Posted by me at 12:17 PM | Comments (1) | TrackBack
February 11, 2005
sometimes i wish i was 17 again
but then i'm sitting on my couch (futon actually...shhh) in brooklyn, having just ordered groceries from freshdirect not having been in a real grocery store since i went home for christmas, worrying about how much i hate my goddamn job, thinking about valentine's day and the awesome present i got my awesome girlfriend (oh my god, i cannot believe i have an awesome, beautiful girfriend)--
and i know i would never have imagined i'd be doing all this. i think i'm...happy. and when i was 17 i could only think about ways i might be happy, one day, and this wasn't one of those ways. and i worried myself sick that "one day" would never come.
(henry kissinger, in hd: not good, not good at all.)
Posted by me at 09:52 PM | Comments (0) | TrackBack
February 05, 2005
thank god i'm not middle class
Today, god took it up a notch and put a guy with tourette's on the treadmill next to me. yes, tourette's. $500 says that I could have brought in a doctor and he or she would have watched him for five minutes and said "yes, I agree with your layman's diagnosis. That guy's got tourette's." between all the randoming clap, shouting "go! go! go!" and what sounded like chirping, it's a wonder I was able to stay on the treadmill. A couple of times he was silent for 3 or 4 minutes and I'd forget about it and then there'd be a clap-clap-clap "GO GO GO GO gogogo!" and I'd miss a step and trip. I know that this is not his fault and I wasn't mad or anything, but I have to admit I was relieved when he got off the treadmill about 20 minutes into my run. and it was nothing compared to the Guy Who Walks Backwards on the Treadmill Throwing Punches Dangerously Close to My Face. That fucker deserves to be banned from every gym on earth. Plus he wears Converse classics to work out in, which might make him look cool but is just really, really bad for your feet.
I was stretching after getting home from the gym and watching the Airline episode with the best line ever (and also the title of this entry). I was about to write a long entry explaining the awesomeness of it, but I found an entry on someone else's blog which sums it up nicely.
Posted by me at 03:54 PM | Comments (0) | TrackBack
that was really, really fucked up
sometimes god likes to tap you on the shoulder and say "hey you little whiny fucker, you think that's bad? Oh ho ho, do I got something for you!"
god, in its infinite wisdom, decided to answer my post from last night about commuting annoyances with the most CRAZY FUCKING HOMELESS PERSON EVER TO RIDE A TRAIN.
9am, F train to Manhattan. I get a seat. At Jay St. some guy with a trash bag full of cans gets on. Not that unusual. He smells like 3 year-old kentucky fried chick. Even less unusual. He proceeds to stand in the middle of the car and place 3 empty, uncapped bottles of Snapple on the floor. Ok, a little weird. He pulls out a two liter of Pepsi. Strange, sure. He opens it and proceeds to attempt (theoretically; god knows what he was really trying to do. Besides piss me off.) to pour 2 liters of Pepsi into 3 Snapple bottles. He succeeds in emptying two liters of Pepsi onto the floor of the train and does not get a single drop in any of the Snapple bottles. He then starts jumping up and down and moving his feet around, as if he is trying to hide a bit of garbage under the seat. Pepsi is now covering the floor in half the car. People have pulled their bags on their laps. We all have our feet pulled up, dangling inches above the floor, stomach muscles aching until our stop as we practice an unexpected set of commuting calisthenics.
thanks, god. that was really, really fucked up.
if that happened in gta: san andreas, i totally would have capped his ass. then i would have gone to Cluckin' Bell and had some chicken.
Posted by me at 12:39 AM | Comments (0) | TrackBack
February 03, 2005
five commuting-related reasons why i hate people
1. they do not walk on the right hand side of the sidewalk
2. they take up two seats on the train because their balls are just so big they can't keep their legs together
3. they smell like liquor at 7:30pm but still make the pretense of being sober and reading the wall street journal, a broad sheet so broad it too takes up two seats on the train just like their drunken balls
4. batteriesbatteriesbatteriesbatteriesonedollaronedollaronedollar and i. am. homeless. i. have. been. trying. to. find. work. but. as. you. all. know. it. is. difficult. in. these. e. con. o. my.
5. the morning make out sessions: "ohmygod i won't see you until 5:30 when we both get off our temp jobs and go to our improv brooklyn comedy rehearsal, let's suck face for the next half an hour on our way to work!" slurp.
Posted by me at 10:03 PM | Comments (0) | TrackBack
my headhunter thinks i'm funny
but not funny "ha ha", funny "retard" or "freaked out stress case".
he e-mailed me to ask me why I was coming back to chicago, so he could tell the HR people at these firms if any of them asked. I wrote him an e-mail listing my usual reasons (I miss my family, everything is cheaper, blah blah blah) and then I added something along the lines of "I didn't get fired or anything".
And he wrote back "of course I didn't think you got fired--you're funny!"
but I don't think it's particularly funny. At least if I were in HR, I'd be curious to know if a lateral applicant was fired (and thus both desparate and a potential liability as a bad worker if hired) or just interested in moving for other reasons.
Wow, this entry sounds like an RRC entry if you substitute "secretary" for "headhunter" and if stead of amusing the headhunter I had offended him.
Posted by me at 09:58 PM | Comments (1) | TrackBack