nepenthe: (Default)
 
So I got my first real paycheck with my new job. It was awesome. I'm still quite broke given I didn't earn very much last month and this check going to be spent almost all at once, but it will float me to the next paycheck so long as I eat ramen and I don't owe more than $250 to the IRS when the deadline arrives. I fear I might owe the government more than that, which is why I'm waiting to pay the insurance on the townhouse until I know for sure. 

In related news, I think it might be in my best interest to look for a second job. Again. To earn extra money-axes to throw at my debt and fix my AC. Or, hell, buy a new AC. If I'm honest with myself, I'm not really in the financial position to make smutty short stories my second job yet. Will I? Eventually, but not for a while at the rate I'm going. As much as I hated, HATED working two jobs at once and as unlikely as it is I'll find something that will pay $11/hr, being so damn broke all the time with a mountain of debt is nerve-wracking.

Here's to squeaking by another month! (Somehow).

Word Count: 150 (I know, I was very bad last night)


EDIT: It's not final, but my twin think she's found that the US govn't owes ME $500! I'm really, really hoping this is the case. That would make convention season magical.
nepenthe: (Default)

I attended the 'orientation' for my new, second job at a grocery retailer.

Host of Orientation: "We will now watch a safety video."
Host of Orientation: *Stands on cheap, rickety plastic chair to change the DVD in the ceiling LCD projector*
nepenthe: "My irony-sense is tingling"

My overall feel for how this job will go down is that it won't be so bad, but it will be constricting. Standard 3 min to clock in / clock out otherwise tardy. Regulated bathroom breaks. Time and a half pay for every Sunday worked, so GUESS WHO WILL BE WORKING EVERY SUNDAY?! My fear that there would be a dramatic gap between the time I get off of my full time job and the start of this part-time thing has been realized: Friday, I'm 6 AM-2:30 PM and 6:30 PM-10:30 PM. 'Least I can sleep in on Saturday.   That's a 4 hour gap. A waste of gas to go home and back. I think it's time I bring my laptop and sit and write in the back seat of my car. I'm also going to be taking naps, I assure you.

This new job might force me to write on the basis of there being nothing else to do.

My supervisor at my full-time job says that once we get out own server in the main office for all of our backed-up work, I will be able to work from home. If I can work from home, it won't matter in the least if there is a four hour gap -- I'll be at home!

Tonight: get shit at home done. Deposit check, clean my house, do laundry, shower. 

I need to seek a full-time job that pays me well so I don't need to juggle two jobs.

I need to write short smutty stories so that that can be my second job and pave my own way to full-time writing.


nepenthe: (Default)

So out of nowhere, someone contacted me about a resume I posted on Monster.com five years ago for an instructional design position. It's $30/hr and would be contracted for a year. It'd be absolutely ideal/the greatest thing to ever happen to me if it weren't out in Chesapeake, VA. Still. For that amount of money I'd best at least contact them back this afternoon and see if they don't turn their noses up and sneer at a girl who's worked in a call center for 4 years, ugh. I'm sure nothing will come of it. Whatever.

I wrote, like, a paragraph yesterday of novel. FOR SHAME.


Edit: I got a phone call and a short notice job interview tomorrow afternoon for a part-time temporary job. Wish me luck.
nepenthe: (Default)
 
Afternoon all! On the employment front, I was informed that I have acquired the BackRoom job, huzzah! HR let me know that she tried to see if they'd pay me more, but no. At least it won't involve as many inbound calls and I'll probably get to spend a little time every day listening to podcasts while I tackle emails, so. . .better than alternative and will enable me to 'hold out' against the man. Sadly, The Plan also involves applying for a new job sometime mid-July-ish on the basis that I intend to take advantage of all of my vacation time and I don't risk my trip to San Diego Comic-Con. 

BECAUSE I HAVE PRIORITIES.

Stupid easy to CXL my Nexflix DVD plan. Should have done eons ago.

Not a single reply to my room mate advert. WTF? I have the best freaking space at a stupid low price. Yeah, the location is a bit out of the way, but STILL. 

Fanfic: 0 words
Noveling: 100 words (last night)

I need to finish watching TableTop, shower, lay out my clothes for tomorrow. I don't know how much time I'll have to write, but I have paid bills and gotten stuff done. Would be better if I posted another advert for a room mate and sometime this weekend put up fliers. 





nepenthe: (Default)
 
I'm thrown by the question, "Preferred Job Title". 

This is not going to end well.

Edit: Now give "a summary profile that tells the story of your career to date": Misery and anxiety in a cube. Fuck you, assholes. Fuck. You.  

The Crunch

Aug. 22nd, 2013 09:39 pm
nepenthe: (scully knows the drill)
 

I’m certain there is a circle of hell that consists solely of souls doomed to fill out online job application forms.

I have many problems. I laid them all out for my counselor today and she pointed out that my most imminent problem has arisen in the form of this ‘verbal warning’ at work in combo with my attempt to purchase a condo. At work, I have three months to turn ship-shape or else. As this is traditionally our slowest, worst season of the year, turning things around when there are no calls and cruises are dirt cheap, me pulling this off is unlikely, to say the least. Then the housing combo: one of the home loan requirements for someone with low income, like me, is a steady job history over 3 years. Ergo, if I’m to own a condo or townhouse, the loan must be secured and I’ll need to move before I am fired. Possibly 3, maybe 4 months from now. If I do not secure a place to live and I get fired, it will be another three years before I can try this again.

Yeah.

Three. Years.

Add to this deadline the irritating fact securing a new job is FAR EASIER if you ALREADY HAVE ONE, realistically, I have a month or two to find a place to live, then, maybe, one or two months to obtain a new job so I can afford to pay off my brand new, shiny mortgage.

If I can pull this off, if I can get through the new job’s trial period and all the other usual new job bullshit, I will be so, so, SO much better off than I am right now.

If, if, if.

Worst case scenario: I don’t find a condo I want/like/can afford/be approved for in time.

Outcome: I stay in this apartment I’m currently leasing and like (yay). I kill my car loan (yay). I apply for a new job until my fingers bleed.

Worst case scenario: I don’t find a condo and am fired before I secure a new job.

Outcome: I still have my apartment to lease. I don’t need to kill my car loan, just pay things as they go. I will cxl my cable, keep my internet. The money I have for the house down payment can be used to house and feed me (and the kitties) and keep the lights on. I will apply for jobs. And apply and apply. Someone will hire me, eventually.

Things to remember while interviewing/writing resume:

1.      First and foremost: The truth, but only ever from a certain point of view. When applying for his first job writing for a journal, Neil Gaiman listed some magazines that sounded likely and got the job. Later he’d write for all of them. If you ignore that time is linear, it was not a lie.

2.       Second: spin whatever question they ask into answering what I will do for them. We are all selfish. Companies most of all. If they ask why I’m leaving my current job, I’ll say, it’s because I know I can give more, do more, but where I am doesn’t provide the growth potential I’m looking for. Remembering #1, I need not mention the employment growth I’m interested in is writing supernatural erotica or romance.

I’ve gone on too long. It’s good for me to reframe my headspace to prepare to dive into the job market. I’ve updated my resume already. It’s now time for me to revisit the notes I took interviewing (and being mock interviewed by) my uncle Dave (who, in his day, worked HR). I need to remind myself of all the hints and dos and don’ts before I dive into filling out this temp job form.  A temp job could provide me with weekend work, given I will have a new schedule in a few weeks that—get this—allows me Saturday and Sunday off. 

Whelp. Off to review notes. Tomorrow is work, work, work.

nepenthe: (Not a Waiter)

I have. A job.

Bitches, there are motherfucking pixies sprinkling fairy dust 'round this apartment and singing daffodils in my laundry hamper.

Fuck, yes.

I'm taking the weekend off and writing PORN.

IN YOUR FACE, REAL WORLD!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

On Cake

Feb. 3rd, 2010 02:28 pm
nepenthe: (Calvin Reality Ruins my Life)
Update--I spoke with Dr. Frank-N-Furter and guess what? I'm all set with the cake place and I didn't even have to lie about anything.

Called my sister and was contrite (I probably shouldn't have hung up on her, and I think she realized she shouldn't have yelled at me).

This is why I shouldn't rant late at night. Things usually work out given time and look silly in daylight (although my Twin yelling at me because I didn't want to lie to my future employer was . . . SRSLY?! Still isn't reasonable in daylight. I am NOT that asshole).



Unfortunately, today couldn't possibly let me off the hook. I accidentally hit a cat. Well, ran over its tail, but. A CAT. It was black/brown, just lying in the middle of a three lane street. I thought it was a pothole, since there are potholes all over Sun City after the rain they've had. I try to avoid them, but all the weaving is sort of dangerous and my car can handle the bumps so when I saw this black shape emerge from under the car driving in front of me (who never slowed down or weaved) I thought it was another hole until I was literally on top of it and managed to swerve enough to not hit it full-on, but as I looked out my rearview, I knew I'd hurt it. It'd rolled and jumped up and RAN INTO THE TRAFFIC. So me being me pulls over and tries to coax the cat and direct traffic like a moron. Of course the cat hates me and runs off across the other three lanes of east-bound traffic and away.

*sigh* Part of me thinks it was just not such a bright creature and you know, natural selection is a bitch. But then I think of Ichabod, who is dumb enough to think sunning himself on the nice, warm three-lane concrete is a fantastic idea, but he's the sweetest little boy ever and doesn't deserve some idiot to run over his tail. And I think of my Bunny who would have blended in with the black asphalt. . .

This has been a messed up week. I want a do-over. 

I think I'm gonna pretend the past three days never happened. It's Monday. Anything is possible once again! I'm on good terms with the Twin! I've landed a cake job and might yet be an assist. manager in retail! I'm not a cat murderer!

Much better.
nepenthe: (Default)

 

So. I'm gonna rant )

JOB

Feb. 1st, 2010 03:04 pm
nepenthe: (Not a Waiter)

VICTORY IS MINE!!!
 
I am now a chef pâtissier-confiseur. Sort of. They'll have me making ribbon-ball decorations (so pretty!), silk flowers (PROFESSIONAL ARTS AND CRAFTS, BITCHES!) et all in the back, as well as working the front counter (I make the big sales!). 

I'll be frosting cakes later and, since they like everyone to know how to do everything, I might end up learning to bake those yummy, yummy cakes.

(Red Velvet! Marble! Chocolate Delight! Be still, my beating heart.)

Now all of this is pending (yes, I let Dr. Frank-N-Furter know) how things go at my interview for the position of assistant manager at the clothing retailers. That job requires that I be present on at least three Saturdays of the month, which is the day the cake place needs the  most help. Fridays and Saturdays, specifically.

Best case scenario? I alternate Saturdays and Fridays with each. Will two weekends a month with each be enough? We'll have to wait and see.

If I don't get the management job, Dr. Frank-N-Furter made it clear that making cake decorations was in the bag--just keep him in the loop.

MINE!!!

Aside: Any hints on how NOT to be nervous for a job interview? Going in, I knew I had this one already in the bag and yet I still had wet armpits. Srsly uncalled for and ew. The Asst. Manager position? Yeah. Not in the bag, yet, even though I know I am prepared and qualified to fulfill the responsibilities even without the label "Manager" attached to me previously. I did tons of managerial work at my last job: reviewing resumes, interviewing my future coworkers, training them, acting as moral booster, being left in charge when supervisor was absent. I was the defacto assistant manager. I think the only thing I didn't do was repremands and shift scheduling.

But yeah. Tips for not getting nervous?

Interview 2

Feb. 1st, 2010 11:20 am
nepenthe: (Not a Waiter)

So the cake place (the ones who told me they loved me but had a full schedule a week ago) called me this morning. From here on out, the manager shall be known as ‘Dr. Frank-N-Furter.’

 

Dr. Frank-N-Furter: You know how I told you we had a full schedule and wouldn’t be seeking your assistance until spring?

nepenthe: I assume that this call has something to do with you reneging on that idea.

Dr. Frank-N-Further: Uh. Yeah. We’ve decided to do a trade in. Part-time is up for grabs. Could you come in for an interview today?

nepenthe: (to myself: did he just say ‘trade in’? omg, I totally ganked someone’s job. I can’t bring myself to fell sorry about that.) Yes I can!

 

I’m leaving for the interview in a little bit. Cross fingers and toes and arms and legs and any other appendage willing to assist.


 

nepenthe: (Not a Waiter)

After two months, I finally have an interview lined up for a job as assistant manager at a clothing retailer. The whole process went like this:

 

 

EMPLOYER: May I help you?

nepenthe: Would you happen to be hiring?

EMPLOYER: (*bitchy eyes of condescension*) We are. Are you over eighteen?

nepenthe: FOR THE LOVE OF THE UNIVERSE, YES.

EMPLOYER: Alright. Are you interested in fulltime or part-time?

Nepenthe: I’ll take whatever I can get.

EMPLOYER: The part-time position is only two shifts a week, but for the fulltime position you’d have to have a four-year degree.

nepenthe: What’d you know?! I have one of those!

EMPLOYER: (*sees me in vivid new light*) Really? Okay, sign up here!

 

Once I was all applied, I went back to the manager to find out if there was anything else she needed from me.

 

EMPLOYER: Alright, let’s set a time for an interview. Next Tuesday at two work for you?

nepenthe: HELL YEA—I mean, why yes ma’am.

EMPLOYER: For the interview you’ll need to wear store appropriate attire.

nepenthe: *nods*

EMPLOYER: That means a gray, blue or white shirt, jeans, natural hair/makeup, and flip-flops.

nepenthe: I’ll be sure to wear the most corporate-y flip-flops I own.

 

The blue Abercrombie polo I wore as part of my dihydrogen monoxide prank disguise should convince them I’m a trustworthy preppie, like them.

 

I can now add MEDIUM COFFEE to my list of free swag while job hunting.

 

nepenthe: (Not a Waiter)

So. Job hunting today was interesting, though no solid affirmations of interest. I went in person store to store around a strip mall. Most of the conversations were variations on this theme:

 

            nepenthe: Are you hiring?

            JOB: *slit eyes of parental disapproval* Are you over the age of 18?

            nepenthe: WHY DO YOU THINK I'M WEARING THESE OUTRAGEOUS HEELS?

            JOB: We’re accepting applications at this time.

            nepenthe: Alright, but are you hiring?

            JOB: Not at this time.

 

I wandered in to a cake shop on a whim (that place looks clean) and had this conversation:

 

            CAKE JOB: We’ll be right with you. Have a free piece of manna from the gods while you wait!

            nepenthe: ommm nom nom.

            CAKE JOB: I’m back. May I help you?

            nepenthe: Job. I’M NOT TWELEVE and COLLEGE GRAD. Must find job. You have?

            CAKE JOB: As a matter of fact, I was just meaning to hire an extra person to man the counters. . .but I haven’t even put together an application for you to fill out . . .

            nepenthe: I HAVE A COPY OF MY RESUME, HERE, AND AN EXTRA COPY OF THE STARBUCKS APPLICATION ON TOP OF THAT. There. I'VE DONE YOUR JOB FOR YOU. YOU'RE WELCOME.

            CAKE JOB: Wow. You have so much sale and customer service experience! You must really be in demand.

            nepenthe: You would think it works that way.
 

Time is running out. I need to get a job so I can get the apartment so I CAN GET MY CAT.

Mutterings

Jan. 18th, 2010 02:36 pm
nepenthe: (Not a Waiter)

I feel as though I’m as far away from getting my Bunny back as I was a month and three weeks ago. I apply and apply and apply, but I’m not getting calls back or interviews. Not even the US Census has called me in, and I got 97% on their little test. I know I can pass their background check with flying colors, so that can’t be the reason. They did say census work wouldn’t start up until spring—maybe things won’t kick off for another month or so.

 

Et I’m ranting on pure speculation and anxiety.

 

I have worked hard! I would work hard! I want my Bunny and a home!  

nepenthe: (Tardis)

Oh, look. I can’t meet deadlines for myself.

 

At least I’ve gotten more job applications sent. Wrote out a new cover letter and revised my resume. Someone should really hire me.

 

Doctor Who: End of Time. No really spoilery—Commentary on RTD’s reoccurring character-plot troubles. A bit of blind speculation about RTD and Moffat and 2010.

 

RTD. Your plots? Thematically engaging on an episode to episode basis, as well as over-arching the series, but the plotlines for characters Not the Doctor have the feel of. . .not being totally thought through. They resemble a kid who shoots his gun up in the air and fails to comprehend that the outcome of basic physics involves gravity, parabolas and pain.

 

Start with a bang and pomp and fun—the fundamentals are all sound.

End with near instantaneous, unexamined consequences—audience upset, scratching head and whispering “really?” to one another.

 

Most of your little twists and plots (Martha & Mickey, Donna, the ending) seem to have been rendered with little foresight beyond “Ooohoo, now that would make for a surprise” or “That’s a convenient way to wrap up a character and ship them out the door—let’s go with it” or “It’s something that worked really well in a fanfic I read awhile back” or a combination of all three.  

 

This is why I have a hard time picturing how you came up with Midnight. In my head, I imagine you started writing it as a mock/spoof of Moffat’s work out of bitterness, then realized it didn’t sound half bad. To be fair, I can imagine Moffat approaching you this season and saying: “These are the characters I don’t want to deal with in 2010. Please make them go away”. That doesn’t sound like a fun task, nor an easy one to execute. Not that I’ve any right to judge personalities from afar, but Moffat seems to have an ego and Personal Issues with Women, just as RTD seems to, and I’m sure we’ll have to deal with him exorcizing them through the Doctor in 2010.

 

*Looks on at 2010 uncertain*

 

Am stopping speculation, as I told myself I’d make a few call around to various tax prep places today to see if they need any help, temp or otherwise.

nepenthe: (Not a Waiter)

We are the story we tell ourselves: a construct of an imaginary past which ceases to exist in the now, crumbling a bit more at our touch every time we recollect it.

 

The story I’ve constructed for myself is that of a small, blonde girl whom no one ever suspects.
 

This is not a good story to have when job hunting. The ones making the decision to hire or not to hire never suspect. Never suspecting, I'm passed over at the onset, never to get my foot in the door.

 

Which means that to get any attention at all, I either need to: a) reconstruct my story (much too late in the game for me to do that, as I’d need to convince myself of the story’s veracity for the effect to convince anyone else) or b) I’ll need to stand outside said building and set off a (metaphorical) bomb to bring down their stony facade.

 

Option c) is docile infiltration of their system, to slowly and systematically spring apart and take over from the inside.

 

*sigh*

 

Volunteering it is, then.

 

Anyone from a literary agency or publishing house around the Phoenix/Tempe area in need of a docile, cute, unassuming-and-couldn’t-possibly-be-up-to-anything blonde to make copies and fetch coffee?

 

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