Working for The Man.
Wednesday, Jan. 15, 2003 @ 1:39 p.m.

Working for The Man

So here's the issue: do I give in to The Man and pay my bills or do I continue to temp and pretend that I don't work in the Bank of X loan center?

Here's the story: I've been temping here for four months and I was told yesterday that I could have a full-time job as a loan processor if I wanted it. It would mean more money, paid vacation, and benefits. It would also mean I'd actually have to give a shit about what I do. I'd have to care about processing loans. I fear it would also mean I'd become a corporate drone. Hell, I didn't even eat the free doughnuts the first month I was here because I was afraid that by eating their food, I'd become one of them.

I'm going to be 31 tomorrow (or today, if you're reading this on Thursday) and being a loan processor was never, never part of the plan. Things that were/are part of the plan:

-artist (snort)
-professional mountain biker (excellent)
-researcher at a hip advertising agency (pleaseohplease)
-unemployed slacker who sells stuff on eBay (Oops, I did that already. It ruled and I'd do it again if it weren't for that pesky debt situation.)

Boy, I really set my sights high, don't I? But damn, I'm so conflicted on this. I know full well I could never be happy working here long-term, but short-term? Hell, I'm already here and I've had worse jobs for less money. (I'd like to pause and give a shout out to the Patterson Express and Tredegar Inc! Hi former cruddy jobs!)

If I take this job, it's only going to be filler until I find something better. I'm not going to end up a Disney-themed-jumper wearing Bank of X lifer. I'm NOT.

***Update: I think I just accepted the job. Oy? And Tigger too?

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Moving on...

Y'all want a Milton story?

Okay, Milton, bless his unsocialized little heart, doesn't explain things well, and often, uh, doesn't explain things at all. Then he acts surprised when I don't know how to do something.

One day he walks up to my desk and asks if I know how to get to a division in the building called Post-Closing. I said no, having never been there. He stared at me for a couple of seconds, huffed, and walked off to Post-Closing without saying a word. Dude, what? I'm not a pre-programmed robot. It never occurred to him to just tell me where it is.

He also doesn't know how to deal with any kind of mild confrontation. I recently discovered that part of a task I do for him is being duplicated by another department. So basically, I was doing a lot of work for nothing. I mentioned it to him and he knew, but just hadn't bothered to tell me to check for duplication. Frustrated, I said

"Milton, why didn't you just tell me to check for dups?"

His reply?

"Well, I..."

Then he spun around and walked away without finishing the sentence. Okay, then. Thanks for clarifying, Milt.

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More links to journals/weblogs I read:

Hashai (Is this girl ever going to update? She's got cute hair, though.)

Pamie (super-hilarious)

Gwenworld (risen from the ashes of a trailer-trash housewife)

Princess Melissa (Melissa from Real World: New Orleans. She's back, and putting a most needed smackdown on Julie.)

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Ahem, currently my notify list consists solely of my sister (thanks, man), so please getting to stepping? Where's the love? You don't want me to cry on my birthday, do you? I thought not. Thank you.

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