I did some "native ritual" stuff that was supposed to set me straight.
It seems I have relapsed in a major way. Life is hard and there are no shortcuts. I thought I could con my way through the hard bits but no, there's no circumnavigating one's way around it.
I've come to the age where I realize now that there are some things that are gone forever.
I'm 38 and I sleep in a cold room where I fry eggs and boil ramen noodles over a Coleman propane camp stove. The lousy employer I work for has ensured that we'll get our measly 40 hours a week for the favor of completing there project on time during the holidays.
In Mexico, they taught us to say "I love myself." This place seems to have very quickly reversed that with me yelling "I hate myself" out loud while walking to work at 12:30* in the morning down the main thoroughfare of Moosamin, Saskatchewan.
In Mexico, they taught us to say "I love myself." This place seems to have very quickly reversed that with me yelling "I hate myself" out loud while walking to work at 12:30* in the morning down the main thoroughfare of Moosamin, Saskatchewan.
The breakdown of any decorum in managing my sanity broken down between three days ago when I received a very disappointing job offer that I had foolishly been hopeful for, and when I was walking to work this morning and realized that I'm going to be spending my Christmas alone by myself away from my family in a hotel room that looks a bit too depressing for the audiences of No Country for Old Men.
I don't think I've hit rock bottom yet though. I still think there's new levels of Wigan Pier* to experience if I keep making the poor career choices of late.
Today my job consisted of doing repetitive menial assembly work which I could have taught to a cub scout which was then followed by many hours of watching people stand around and talk a lot.
The money shot of the day was climbing about 40 feet of ladder and attaching two fire detectors fixed to two oversized plastic enclosures which attached to the underside of the first base deck with magnets.
I feel like we could have accomplished a lot more today if the day was ten hours instead of eight. The whole project is what is it is.
Today my job consisted of doing repetitive menial assembly work which I could have taught to a cub scout which was then followed by many hours of watching people stand around and talk a lot.
The money shot of the day was climbing about 40 feet of ladder and attaching two fire detectors fixed to two oversized plastic enclosures which attached to the underside of the first base deck with magnets.
I feel like we could have accomplished a lot more today if the day was ten hours instead of eight. The whole project is what is it is.
My colleagues mock me but... I initially cared but I had to remind myself of the The Passion of the Christ where the character Jesus is getting whipped, beaten and spit upon. The worst lies and insults being laid upon him. So let the lads mock me. Fuck it.
I think one of the things we got wrong in our overly tolerant culture is giving people the right to hate us: Let them hate me. Hate me all you want. If you can convince other fools to hate me as a fool like you has... then so be it."
And maybe.... you're not a fool? Maybe you're 100% correct in your hate assessment. If so, good luck in destroying me,.
...
The Korean proprietor of the hotel fixed my television or I should say, demonstrated how to turn it and the cable box on. Now I can watch Murder She Wrote with my fried eggs and ramen noodles.
She didn't comment on the Trainspotting fan paraphenalia littering the motel room, or the used cooking oil and dirty hookah water staining the snow around the entrance to the door of 312.
Tonight I only paid for last night and three more ahead for a total of four. I desperately want to move out as I'm paying Houston rent to live in conditions the Russians of Vladivostok would scoff at.
Tonight I only paid for last night and three more ahead for a total of four. I desperately want to move out as I'm paying Houston rent to live in conditions the Russians of Vladivostok would scoff at.
...
Christmas is coming. My wife and daughter have the single-mom/widow-tree put it: It's a sad three to four foot tree whose puny branches can barely hold the ornaments. I believe my dad had one the year after he kicked my mother out.
I tried finding some K so I could relax in the room a little but no dice: While the prairie provinces of Saskatchewan and Alberta have their drug problems; it's with the drugs that you don't take when you go to a trance festival in Israel or Goa.
...
Last night was hilarious: I dropped my phone and the screen - already dropped before - finally gave out. This presented a problem as the town of Moosamin, SK is not known for it's electronics or mobile phone stores. By the time my phone broke the entire town had shut down. By the time we returned from Bekevar project, the shops were already closed. It's now been over 24 hours and I don't have a mobile device. I write this post on the business center desktop at the hotel my colleagues are staying at. I'm unable to communicate with my wife and child or anyone. Due to our schedule, there's no possibility of me going to some larger town and quickly resolving this issue.
In short: I'm frustrated because it all seems like a pickle. But not really. It's just a temporary obstacle to be overcome.
I've learned in the last month that I'm not the "technician" I thought I was. I learned that at best, I'm a semi-skilled laborer. For eight long years I unknowingly told people that I was a "technician" which indicates some sort of "technical knowledge." Well, I learned that I'm a laborer because there is nothing technical it seems about what I do. If there is anything technical, it seems it's of lower value than telling people what they want to hear and talking to the boss about the Dallas Cowboys.
Realizing that you're a butter robot when you thought you were at least a Replicant is disheartening when you were planning on using the hourly rate on an offer letter to tell your current boss "Look what a slam dunk of an asset I AM! But I digress. I'm a butter robot that thought I was something else. Something happened with the wiring during the gestation process it seems.
I've learned in the last month that I'm not the "technician" I thought I was. I learned that at best, I'm a semi-skilled laborer. For eight long years I unknowingly told people that I was a "technician" which indicates some sort of "technical knowledge." Well, I learned that I'm a laborer because there is nothing technical it seems about what I do. If there is anything technical, it seems it's of lower value than telling people what they want to hear and talking to the boss about the Dallas Cowboys.
Realizing that you're a butter robot when you thought you were at least a Replicant is disheartening when you were planning on using the hourly rate on an offer letter to tell your current boss "Look what a slam dunk of an asset I AM! But I digress. I'm a butter robot that thought I was something else. Something happened with the wiring during the gestation process it seems.
I will never kill myself and here's why: I know this realm more or less. I don't know the next that follows this one. I've read enough to know that suicide is not met well in whatever life follows this one. Choose wisely friends if you can hold off. Understandable if you can't and no judgement: I'm as cowardly as they come.
Don't know where I was going with that.
Semper Fi. Namaste... so on. Carry on folks.
With much love.
