Its like the first snow, but bad

Today marked the first time since I quit the telecom business that I took a customer service call. While I did have to take calls as a fromager, they were very few, and I spoke from a position of responsibility and to a certain degree authority. The new job is quite different, as the game is about a different sort of product, with its own rules and a different kind of power play. Lets just say that I've moved on to the finance sector and leave it at that.

So today was hazing day. Well, its not so much that we were forced to jog naked through a public space while holding a marshmallow between our butt cheeks, but it was still a blow to our confidence and self-esteem. Sure, it had to be done, but I cant say that I felt anywhere near ready for this.

 Maybe I'm getting old, maybe part of what we did felt less than useful, maybe I just needed a kick in the butt... I'm not going to waste time with the maybes, its a pointless debate. I knew what I was getting into when I signed up for this, and it'll be up to me to find my way through.

I really have no reason to fear the situation; after all, I've done this before. On the other hand, it may very well be because I've done this before, and the reason I stopped that's still lingering. While I'm fine with telling people about last summer's accident, and screwing up my back, physical scars bear no weight, at the contrary. But the burnout I went through, that would be a black mark that would impede me, and possibly even cause me to lose this job.

Its not that I'm afraid of losing the job. Its a job, nothing more. But I signed up for this because of the challenge I would face. I am there to show myself that I can do this. I am there to show myself that I can do better. I am there to make myself improve, and improve my situation. I am there because it is a strong work sector where I will be able to move in different circles, where I can make serious money and improve my social position.

Sometimes sorcery has more to do with dominating one's inner demons than anything brought out of the pit. When you get right down to it, you carry within yourself more subtle and devious beasts, who know you better than you know yourself and know all your weak spots and how to exploit them. If you cant claim dominion on your inner bastards, then how can you claim lordship on anything else? That's delusion and adolescent fantasy; you are, as others have called them, nothing more than a magic ninja.

I have weaknesses and I have flaws. I also have immeasurable strength and an ego to match. I have risen to life and death challenges and laughed as the reaper in the face.

This is nothing. It is nothing more than a stepping stone to the brighter, and darker future. I still have work to do. I will not succeed is a single night, or even by tomorrow evening. Time is only your enemy if you treat it that way.

Sleep tight and dream the dangerous dream.

You know, the one where you're in charge of your own destiny.

Changement de costume

I used to call it my monkey suit. It was the outfit I'd wear for work. The monkey suit changed over time, depending on how open-minded or stuck up the workplace was. Sometimes I could wear the outfit in my day-to-day life, but in my mind, this was still a facade, something I had imposed upon me that I had to deal with.

The last few jobs I've held did not have massive requirements on the wardrobe. In customer service, as long as its relatively clean and decent, nobody gave much of a fuck what you wear. As a fromager, I did not have tough requirements, and they already provided something of a required uniform, so having to wear black pants was not a big problem for me. When I came back to work after my leave of absence, even that requirement had apparently been thrown out the window. If anything, the sweat and constant dealing in animal fats and dairy products pretty much ensured that I'd go home and change before dealing with the rest of the planet.

And now, a new environment, both to work and to live. This was a very conscious decision on my part, a necessary change of circumstance, a consequence of my vacation. It dawned on me that I'd been underestimating and underusing myself. I was living in a troublesome area, in a dysfunctional apartment because rent was cheap, which allowed me to undershoot my salary expectations and use any extra cash to buy pretties. Which is well and fine, but it gets you nowhere, just a cluttered home.

And sacrifices. The previous place, besides the so-called humans living and breeding in that area had its own cost; after all, as a condition of the rent agreement we weren't allowed to live with cats, dogs, or other furry companions. Being animal lovers made this pretty hard on us, so this had to change; it was a condition in out search for new dwellings. We also had to consider that any new dwelling that would meet our requirements would certainly mean higher rent. So less pretties. No big deal, its taken care of.

The decision was taken even before I returned to work; at that time it made more sense for me to return to a secure job, that might not be fantastic, but provided the necessities. One less problem to deal with, the change took place.

The purge became necessary as well; you cant go through years of collecting all kinds of stuff without going overboard at some point. A big part of my purge decision involved the furniture. You get fed up with making due with what you have; it becomes necessary to get what you want. If anything, a theme, a sense of unity, a sentiment of order in the creative chaos, so that the mind can rest once in a while. That got taken care of too. The process isn't completely over; just because you get rid of things doesn't mean that you have a replacement that you want or can afford readily available.

And the wardrobe. It seems like an exercise in vanity, but if you upgrade your lifestyle, go all the way. I spent years in jeans and t-shirts (two drawers full of the things), and it gets tiring. If your sense of aesthetics are anywhere near developed, you see the need for some variety, some change in your appearance. In a work environment, you'll want to portray the image of someone who has things together, whether its strictly for appearances. Everyday jeans and t-shirts folks don't tend to get noticed and promoted. Or taken seriously.

I also happen to look good when smartly dressed, and can make the subtle but important difference between style and fashion. One is an art, the other a drug. Style requires a deeper statement than just whatever happens to be in season. You can have style wearing random pieces of vintage and new items, if the mind behind the image is creative. Too many people who claim style are noting but hipsters with an attitude, something to sneer and spit on.

Anyways.

I have made a commitment to myself: onward and forward. It has a cost. Being intelligent requires one to recognize the need for that cost, and the reward for the trade. Its not like I wont be wearing any more jeans and t-shirt, its just not going to be a fashion statement. Its just going to be another face I'll show the world.

The French refer to it as a "costume": what is interesting about this statement is that it reflects an American saying: life is a play. What the Americans haven't figured out yet is that not only is there more than one act, but that there's more than one play. You can change according to your role.

Just put on a new costume and act.

The endgame

Sometimes, the plan works; sometimes, there's some sand in the gears and there's a few snags; and sometimes, someone goes and throws an entire MACTools mechanic's tool wall into the machine so that you can only see your creation die in a fiery stillbirth.

But not this time.

Actually, this time its far too smooth. The time line is pretty much as scheduled; I had decided to get a job by Hallow's Eve and, lo and behold, I did get the interview offer before the end of the month. The process had to take place fairly fast, and there wont be much of a warning period for my current employer, but I'm moving on. This is my will and it will not be denied.

And not just my will either. Before my interview, I asked the Ladies to intercede and give me support; I burned incense, offered respect, even offered blood. That last part seemed to have been turned down, as my knife could not penetrate the skin, so I dabbed them and thanked them in advance.

I felt confident, both in my own respect, but also ready to wage some battle of wills; I could feel the energy coursing through, a sort of angry calm burning within, and the struggle went through easily; after all, what was it I could really lose? It went well, as I got called for a second interview, and I forged ahead, picking the earliest time, which others would have found daunting. I had some thought that this was madness, but I wanted to at the very least finish the process I had started.

And it paid off. I got offered the position, which begins next week. I will be evolving within an organism which will provide growth opportunities, something that I have cut myself from before. Just like the many projects that were undertaken and never completed. That is one lesson I've assimilated from my unplanned vacation: stop wasting time, stop keeping yourself down, stop just dreaming and enact your will.

And there's always a payment to be made. Of course there is. The Ladies did get the promised blood, as a few days after the interview my hand got some scratches and some drops of blood flowed. The spell was completed when I took in the blood, as I carry the Ladies within, and channeled the offering through myself.

I am my own temple, I am the channel to the spirits and my will flows through the aethers to the dwellers of the void.

Do not fear, act. There is no greater cause but the accomplishment of your will.

Lets play choo-choo train

Is all going according to plans.

More or less.

Months ago, when I was pushing to return to work, I never meant it to be a permanent fixture of any kind. For that matter, that job was never meant to last as long as it did; originally, I go this because I was not making anywhere near enough cash through unemployment, and I was looking for a way to supplement my income during the summertime till my butcher course started. And how convenient could that be to get a job in a freaking butcher shop?

It was only meant to last a few months, but turned full time when I decided to keep the steady income and job instead of returning to class (where I would have learned very little it turns out.) When I had my accident and was stuck at home for months, it sure wasn't because I was broke that I wanted to go back to work; indeed, I was paid nearly full salary to just stay put. But its something of an annoyance to be forced to not work when I was quite confident that I could have picked up the job pretty much as I had left it. Indeed, if things had gone according to expectations I would have been back to work last fall, instead of last spring.

Before I even had some sort of time frame the decision to move dwellings had been taken. Sure, it didn't go smoothly, there were bumps and so forth, but the dwelling changed, and a good thing it was too. But that sort of required me to stick to the gig I had, at least till we got settled in. And that's all part of the plan.

I'm a man with a plan. The plan isn't in any way complete. It changes according to circumstances, and seriously, that's okay. Of course, even a procrastinator like me will get cabin fever and need to get something, anything done, one way or another. Promises have to be kept, the job's gotta get done.

So I do it.

But now that we're settled in, its time to look for brighter shores. The job is stagnating, the atmosphere is rather unwholesome, and its friggin' time to get out. So I've been job searching. I don't know what I want to do next, but its probably gonna be temporary also, something to help the changes that need to happen. If anything a change of neighborhood is in order. I have considered returning to the old scene, good old customer service. I cant say honestly that I love it, but it does tap both experience and abilities that I have that make me a good candidate. I am looking for a type of work that does not require me to wear jeans and t-shirt and get down and dirty and do heavy lifting.

Back when I took this job, I really needed to get the hell out of the whole office environment. Six and half year is a long time to be answering phones, day in and day out. But I think that I need to go back, if only to find out if I can. Perhaps even to seek a higher post. I don't know, maybe I'm getting a second wave of ambitious drive.  I'll probably need to shoot higher than the skill set that I am confident that I have, and gun for that little extra mile that others might see.

Its not like I don't have a plethora of projects just sitting on the back burner. I have made offers and promises, and I certainly intend to follow through on them. If I didn't, ten I'd not only let others down, I'd be betraying myself, and I cant to that. You don't walk away from death a third time to just let your ambitions go; at the contrary, it kicks your inner procrastinator in the balls and makes it take a hike for a while. I gotta get things done, and bad habits to burn.

First the job's gotta go. Its eating up too much energy for insufficient returns. Its a fucking fossil fuel guzzler.

And then... well, I'll post some more.

You cant make a writer without breaking some pens.

Those who wait

Patience is a trait I've learned a long time ago. when you cant afford to get what you want, you make due with what you've got.You also learn to look at the world with attention, as opportunities abound, for those who take the time to notice.

For instance, I have recently begun a job search, very laid-back like, applying to whatever looked mildly interesting. Barely twenty-four hours in, I already had a few contacts and one interview, with some letting me know in forty-eights hours the result. Another twenty-four, and if I had been available for e meeting, I might well have been offered a position already. I do have that meeting set up for next Monday, but it already looks promising, with the quite likely position offer before noon. At a better salary than I'm making now, benefits and so forth. So, a win already. And I'm still looking.

Another example: about a month ago, I lost my keys. Now, its not a lot of keys, but it was an annoyance, as the set contained the one copy of the key we'd need to get into the building in case of a power failure, and the two keys that open a lock I got and only used once, so annoyance all around. We looked and looked, tried to think about where they could have gotten, blamed it one the cats roughhousing, and left it at that.

Then tonight, as I'm picking up the laundry, they tumble out of the load.

Yet another: on that keyring I carried a small pocketknife. Nothing particularly fancy or expensive, but rather useful and convenient. I used it nearly everyday at work, till I lost it one day. Again, looked and looked, couldn't find the damn thing and considered it and annoying loss. Last week, given that the time was right, I did some cleanup of the walk-in, and t was lying there on the floor.

Loss is one thing, this one is one of opportunity; on Monday, after the interview, I was walking around downtown, looking at picking up a couple of Terry Pratchetts and the new Swans album, a good thing to listen to before the show on Friday. After breaking fats at Ye Olde Orchard (at three PM), my partner points out a little hat, a yidlid, looking for a good home. Now I'm not a religious man, but I certainly understand the memes and powers associated with symbols, so I picked it up. It will probably join an eclectic assortment of occult and religious artifacts, both bought and found, in my Cabinet of Shadows.

I could have panicked, and freaked out, and have caused myself unnecessary stress about the losts. I could torture myself for having picked up, or not having picked up the kippah, as an object of personal devotion and obedience that did not belong to me. But that sort of guilt has no power over me, just like I strive to not let that over which I have no control have any hold on my peace.

My peace is of my own making, just as my drive is to look forward; it does not prevent from looking up or down or sideways. You never know what you'll miss otherwise.

The long road to somewhere

The one thing that makes people wary and anxious about change, is that most significant change takes time, and most people are constrained by time so that they need anything to be done now, right now, in the exact way that they want it to happen.

But the universe doesn't work that way. The universe doesn't get bogged down in minutia, the fate of a single speck of dust is not on high priority when dealing with cosmic objects the size of supernovas.

When I returned to work, there was never any intent for me to stay there long. The game plan was to return to active duty, get through the summer, and then move on to the next step. I didn't want to start a new job while I was moving, there's enough stress to deal with on one front, I don't need to expand it.Now that the move is done, and the summer is over, its time for me to look for my next step.

Its sort of interesting, because the majority of my close circle is out of work and searching, all in the span of a month. Sometimes change just slams into you; other times, you can see it coming from a mile away, if your eyes are open to the signs all around you. Like how the work environment has become more and more poisoned, how coworkers are leaving, through choice or circumstances... and then you find out that your boss has put out recruitment notices for your position. Sure, I could see it as him finally seeing that one person cant do all that work by himself...

But I'm not blind, or stupid. I can read the signs on the wall.

So the search has begun. At this time, I have applied to a few jobs, and I've already gotten three calls and an interview. Its been less than twenty-four hours. It is quite possible that I'll have a new job by the end of the week, if history serves me right. And I'm still working, so I don't have to worry too much about the income, for now. Sure, I may find out that I'm let go tomorrow. But honestly, that doesn't bother or scare me at all.

If anything, fear has left the building.

Good luck world, I'm out and about, and I just don't give a fuck about your expectations.

Work In Progress

Its been over a month now and time is starting to sink in. Moving to a new place, especially when you've taken the opportunity to ditch the less-than-satisfactory accumulated furniture, can certainly mean that you're living in a messy and less than organized space for a time. Without some of the required furniture, unpacking can be rather partial for quite a long time; but that's the game you have to play when you decide to upgrade.

Its a weird thing to do, upgrading, when you've spent years scrounging, fixing up, and just generally making due with whatever you could get your hands on. Why buy bookshelves, when you can just pick some up in the alley, paint them up and line them up against the wall, stacked with anything made out of paper with printed ink? Why spend the dough on a dresser when you can fix that thrift up, and dump your stacks of t-shirts in it?

Well, its a simple shift really, its when you start seeing the need for a coherent whole, instead of just a practical hodgepodge. Its actually a nice thing to have your bookshelves in a sort of logical sequence, where they are all pretty much the same size, or a matching set, where looking at them does not require you to squint your eyes to fuzz over the sight of them and shrug and give up. Its like moving on from wearing things that are "clean" to things that "match". Because all too often, things that match just work much better than just relying on things that work.

Up the benchmark as it is.

So after months of having not touched anything, of having packed it up, and at this point, having pretty much all of it just stacked up pelle-mele in the office, its time for a creative workspace to emerge. There are things that defy creativity; yes, it is possible to just write stuff up sitting on a busted box half a mile under the earth in a coal mine, but just because you can doesn't mean you should.

No matter how mentally strong you are, your environment does have an effect on your creative output, or even more to the point, on your creative drive. If you are of the creative type, and your life sucks, your work situation is precarious and your living arrangements are somewhat shifty, you tend to be highly motivated to run creative output marathons, where the least amount of tools are required to get the most amount out, because your motivation is so high up that you just have to express it or your head will explode.

But once all of that stabilize, you end up with the return of the pendulum, as the accumulated security of your existence will bog down the creative process. You tend to become focused maintaining the stuff you've accumulated, instead of making something new. And all that stuff piled up around you will act as miles and miles of intellectual speed bumps, slowing down the creative race to a snail's pace. Its not that you no longer get ideas, its that its become too cumbersome to actually act upon them.

But I have had enough of this shyte. Today is the day where I confront the procrastinating urge, and turn it into a proactive kick-in-the-ass for the artistic lunatic that lurks within.

I'm not claiming that there's a genius inside; but if I dont look for it and exercise my media muscles, I'll be thinking that TV writers are pretty damn good at their jobs pretty soon... and I dont know if I can live with myself accepting such mediocrity as a valid philosophy.

Here's to Chaos! Hail Eris!