The first part of this piece was here.
I left you with a question and I gave a huge clue on the answer here.
I'll restate that question and give the answer but first I wanted to explain the title.
I ended the first half by alluding to problems at my apartment. One reason I decided to split this memoir into two pieces is because I was in the middle of packing to move from one apartment complex to another and I didn't want to jinx it.
So I now write from my new apartment, where I have, for the first time, dvr and i'm loving that. More importantly I don't have memories of the apartment being burglarized, the fake tough security of the old place or the frustration of apartment management that didnt seem to do anything to aid me post-burglary.
Since I wrote the first part I had a weekend that I summed up on facebook this way:
imagine my pleasant surprise today to realize not only is it still working but that it really is set to dvr every craig ferguson, lost and daily show episode."
Ok, so that's my life today.
There's also been some major heavy stuff going on in my life that I am not writing about online. If you want to know details you can email me. Let's just say there is a reason why, after moving here, I started writing less heavy pieces about, say, the meaning of truth in regards to documentaries and more lighter stuff like television reviews. And that reason has to do with energy spent on other emotional worrisome things going on a relative. That's all I'm going to say on that.
That said, I do want to return to writing fun positive anecdote-filled pieces on Wednesday again (per the Good News Wednesday group) and plan to do so in the following Wednesdays, as i did with my piece about
what happened when I drove a typing class teacher crazy and a story about something ducky.
So I arrived in Austin and my first temp job then - and one I plan/hope to repeat in a few weeks - was to work for a company where the employees review and score tests. Put simply we would, for that first job, read hundreds of essays and score them based on a set rubric with others also reading and reviewing essays and scores so none were too skewed positive or negative. The good part was it was essays written by special needs students so - and i had not even known this when I took the job - I could argue it was still work continuing my interest and career change into special education (following the voluntary ending of my journalism career.)
The bad part is, well, imagine reading 200 essays on a computer screen (while others are reading many more) and you feel, after a while, like your eyes are going to bleed and fall out and suddenly even a life long voracious reader like me decides, after 8 hours of work, that the last thing they wanted to do at the end of the day is engage in traditional hobbies of reading newspapers, novels, etc let alone be anywhere near a computer screen.
I went on to do work for a math test and one for SAT's that was advertising as "editing," which I assumed meant editing as in helping people read and write better like I do with my writing exercises and writing and editing advice groups when really it was "processing" hundreds and thousands of SAT tests. Oy.
When that job ended I scrambled around for other work and heard tell of a temp job that paid something like $12 an hour for data entry. That sounded too good to be true and I figured there had to be a catch. And there was, alright, quite literally a "catch" which sometimes is attached to a safety... of a gun.
That's right, this liberal pacifist Unitarian Universalist had landed a data entry job involving guns in the good old gun-crazy state of Texas.
On day 1 i recall asking my boss (before he moved to another job, thus setting off confusion for the rest of the three month job about which boss to listen to since they gave conflicting instructions) asking "Does this mean I am now working for the man" and his reply "I am not the man" sparking me to say, "well, of course that's what the man would say."
So, yes, I worked for the state Texas Division of Public Safety and my assignment was with the Concealed Weapons Application Department. Without going in too much detail let me just say I was one of 50 people (which dropped to 40 then 30 as they'd have mass firings every Friday like a bad reality show) who would process application requests and, following confusing conflicting instructions, decided whether it should be approved or rejected or, more often, returned for changes to be made. I had some moral qualms about having any job helping people with their guns and I knew I could not just reject all requests.
I tried to tell myself it was ok because I was helping those with guns hide those guns, thus reducing the odds they'd be used. If I can help them move a gun from the front seat to the glove compartment that's progress, right? But between those qualms and noticing bosses spending Wednesdays and Thursdays deciding which temps to fire, er, let go on Fridays I jumped at the chance to learn new tasks thus making me less expendable. Thus I moved to the photo desk where I'd process the photos for their registrations, sometimes rejecting them (if you can't see a person's face or there is, due to staples, a decapitation, that's a problem) but more often improving the appearance. This seemed - and was - a bit odd at times to spend your whole day working on photos which will ultimately be the size of a stamp but hey, it was a job.
My memories of that job resurfaced over the weekend when I saw this New York Times story, about the open carry movement (people wanting to carry weapons in to, for example, Starbucks.
Anyway eventually that weird job ended when other state departments realized how much money was being spent having us temps process this backlog of applications. It did not help that there were lawsuit-worthy mistakes being made by temps (sending, for example, an application - containing every possible private detail including a list of past crimes - to a different person) - this resulted in one person having the job of just checking to ensure every thing mailed was a) mailed to the right person and b) was something that should be sent in the first place.
On a Friday when we though a few more would be let go we were instead informed we were all let go.
Compared to all of that my last six months have been much more drama-free. I have had a great deal of work and appreciation and meaningful thoughtful experiences at my church where I both work and, for lack of a better word, worship.
In conclusion, it has been, overall, a year of learning - learning how I can adjust to problems and challenges, be it the uncertainty of not having a permanent job or feeling violated after first my car then my apartment was burglarized, and a year of adapting. And it was a year when I became more of a social animal off-line (whereas I used to be more shy offline now I think I'm pretty outgoing online and offline and only get nervous when speaking to large groups.
Thanks to everyone for their patience, flexibility and help this year.
I left you with a question and I gave a huge clue on the answer here.
I'll restate that question and give the answer but first I wanted to explain the title.
I ended the first half by alluding to problems at my apartment. One reason I decided to split this memoir into two pieces is because I was in the middle of packing to move from one apartment complex to another and I didn't want to jinx it.
So I now write from my new apartment, where I have, for the first time, dvr and i'm loving that. More importantly I don't have memories of the apartment being burglarized, the fake tough security of the old place or the frustration of apartment management that didnt seem to do anything to aid me post-burglary.
Since I wrote the first part I had a weekend that I summed up on facebook this way:
So this weekend I have moved apartments, did childcare for an event, led a middle school class in a discussions of cults (when to know you may be getting into one, why some may think we're in one, etc), did a CROP (charity walk and am now going in to a discussion of international issues... then i'll relax and watch the oscarsI wrote this last nite:
best part about shopping at ross and target with mom for things for my apartment - besides her picking up the tab - was navigating via her shouting Marco and I shouting polo.As for the dvr I just made this confession: "I stayed up late watching all the stuff i dvr'd as if i thought it would stop working or disappear today.
imagine my pleasant surprise today to realize not only is it still working but that it really is set to dvr every craig ferguson, lost and daily show episode."
Ok, so that's my life today.
There's also been some major heavy stuff going on in my life that I am not writing about online. If you want to know details you can email me. Let's just say there is a reason why, after moving here, I started writing less heavy pieces about, say, the meaning of truth in regards to documentaries and more lighter stuff like television reviews. And that reason has to do with energy spent on other emotional worrisome things going on a relative. That's all I'm going to say on that.
That said, I do want to return to writing fun positive anecdote-filled pieces on Wednesday again (per the Good News Wednesday group) and plan to do so in the following Wednesdays, as i did with my piece about
what happened when I drove a typing class teacher crazy and a story about something ducky.
So I arrived in Austin and my first temp job then - and one I plan/hope to repeat in a few weeks - was to work for a company where the employees review and score tests. Put simply we would, for that first job, read hundreds of essays and score them based on a set rubric with others also reading and reviewing essays and scores so none were too skewed positive or negative. The good part was it was essays written by special needs students so - and i had not even known this when I took the job - I could argue it was still work continuing my interest and career change into special education (following the voluntary ending of my journalism career.)
The bad part is, well, imagine reading 200 essays on a computer screen (while others are reading many more) and you feel, after a while, like your eyes are going to bleed and fall out and suddenly even a life long voracious reader like me decides, after 8 hours of work, that the last thing they wanted to do at the end of the day is engage in traditional hobbies of reading newspapers, novels, etc let alone be anywhere near a computer screen.
I went on to do work for a math test and one for SAT's that was advertising as "editing," which I assumed meant editing as in helping people read and write better like I do with my writing exercises and writing and editing advice groups when really it was "processing" hundreds and thousands of SAT tests. Oy.
When that job ended I scrambled around for other work and heard tell of a temp job that paid something like $12 an hour for data entry. That sounded too good to be true and I figured there had to be a catch. And there was, alright, quite literally a "catch" which sometimes is attached to a safety... of a gun.
That's right, this liberal pacifist Unitarian Universalist had landed a data entry job involving guns in the good old gun-crazy state of Texas.
On day 1 i recall asking my boss (before he moved to another job, thus setting off confusion for the rest of the three month job about which boss to listen to since they gave conflicting instructions) asking "Does this mean I am now working for the man" and his reply "I am not the man" sparking me to say, "well, of course that's what the man would say."
So, yes, I worked for the state Texas Division of Public Safety and my assignment was with the Concealed Weapons Application Department. Without going in too much detail let me just say I was one of 50 people (which dropped to 40 then 30 as they'd have mass firings every Friday like a bad reality show) who would process application requests and, following confusing conflicting instructions, decided whether it should be approved or rejected or, more often, returned for changes to be made. I had some moral qualms about having any job helping people with their guns and I knew I could not just reject all requests.
I tried to tell myself it was ok because I was helping those with guns hide those guns, thus reducing the odds they'd be used. If I can help them move a gun from the front seat to the glove compartment that's progress, right? But between those qualms and noticing bosses spending Wednesdays and Thursdays deciding which temps to fire, er, let go on Fridays I jumped at the chance to learn new tasks thus making me less expendable. Thus I moved to the photo desk where I'd process the photos for their registrations, sometimes rejecting them (if you can't see a person's face or there is, due to staples, a decapitation, that's a problem) but more often improving the appearance. This seemed - and was - a bit odd at times to spend your whole day working on photos which will ultimately be the size of a stamp but hey, it was a job.
My memories of that job resurfaced over the weekend when I saw this New York Times story, about the open carry movement (people wanting to carry weapons in to, for example, Starbucks.
Anyway eventually that weird job ended when other state departments realized how much money was being spent having us temps process this backlog of applications. It did not help that there were lawsuit-worthy mistakes being made by temps (sending, for example, an application - containing every possible private detail including a list of past crimes - to a different person) - this resulted in one person having the job of just checking to ensure every thing mailed was a) mailed to the right person and b) was something that should be sent in the first place.
On a Friday when we though a few more would be let go we were instead informed we were all let go.
Compared to all of that my last six months have been much more drama-free. I have had a great deal of work and appreciation and meaningful thoughtful experiences at my church where I both work and, for lack of a better word, worship.
In conclusion, it has been, overall, a year of learning - learning how I can adjust to problems and challenges, be it the uncertainty of not having a permanent job or feeling violated after first my car then my apartment was burglarized, and a year of adapting. And it was a year when I became more of a social animal off-line (whereas I used to be more shy offline now I think I'm pretty outgoing online and offline and only get nervous when speaking to large groups.
Thanks to everyone for their patience, flexibility and help this year.
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