You have to have some standards…

Every wealthy tub of lard during the Renaissance became well versed in Homer and learned it in Ancient Greek and then decided to learn Latin… you weren’t smart until you knew latin. Now, school’s pretty much the same way. We learn amazing quantities of crap. Let’s take some electives in high school… The only thing I learned in high school was some history, how to spell properly and basic calculus – which I can only vaguely remember. It didn’t serve me any good – even if I was amazing at it. i just need basic arithmatic and common sense to balance a checkbook – and I’ve almost got that down. But, I guess it was a good experience to at least grasp the concept of math at a very basic level.

Then we have this… The other day I read an article about home schooled children… Yeah, I know I shouldn’t rag on them. I’m sure parents can teach their kids just as well as an educated and trained professional who is not baised for or against them in anyway. But the article was about children who were “unschooled”. I almost crapped myself when I read the article. These little goobers get to do whatever they want for hours on end – they can read if the want, math if they want, pick their noses if they want, and the state is alright with that? If I had to take exams to let me know I was progressing properly, I had to take exams, but these kids can sit around at home and read books if the want?

Something about this seems wrong. For starters – college seems like it would be hard to get into. You think the SAT’s are hard? I’m sure they’re harder when you were the one choosing which words you wanted to study. I’m sure there’s some freak out there somewhere taking the exam trying to read the instructions and then panicking when he realizes he doesn’t know what “fill in the bubble completely” means.

My whole thought on that is that there are people trying to get ahead in the world… people with real disadvantages (learning disabilities, financial burdens, ethnic barriers), and then there are these families probably wasting a child’s unique curiousity. Yeah you can say – but if the child wants to learn about it, then they will… but I’m sure they won’t be presented the wide variety of subjects taught in schools unless they’re subjected to it… How is your kid going to know about calculus and how are you going to teach them that, stupid?! Your kid most likely won’t be a scientist, if a functioning member of society…

JJRC

Too much time on your hands?

It seems that I have loads of time on my hands at work… and I don’t necessarily feel like its my fault either. For the better part of Friday I sat in my partial cubicle (it only has 2 walls) and waited for something to develop. Since I’m so new – I’m not allowed to commence my own projects just yet, and everyone is soooo busy with stuff they already do that I pester them most likely. Here’s how my black Friday went:

Me: Good Morning everyone… I’m gonna get a bagel.

Co-Worker 1: ok, take your time.

Me: Alright, I’m back… is there anything for me to do?

Co-Worker: no, I’m clearing up my desk… Want to tear papers for me?

Me: yes

Co-Worker: that was a joke… we used to have half staff days here on the day after Thanksgiving and the day after Christmas – but they thought that was stupid so they did away with it. Now almost everyone asks for this day off….

Me: So, there’s nothing to do, and technically I should be here?

Co-Worker: yes…

WOW. I’ve never had an employer admit to me that I was wasting my time at work. Yeah, I didn’t want to be there, but I never want to be there. I just want the day to fly by and then go home and sit until I have to come in again. Not having anything to do makes this task incredibly hard… Even if he had said – hey – you wanna sit here and answer my phone? I would have said – yes – please. He didn’t.

So what was I to do? I made a few necessary phone calls – distracted my co-workers – and walked around the office looking for anyone as bored as I was. No one was being as useless as I was… I learned that I am the most dispensable person in that whole company. I then chatted away on gmail – which rocks.  I listened to music on www.pandora.com – awesome.  I also cleared up some papers from my desk that didn’t need to be done, but hey I had the time…

I eventually asked to leave at 1:30 and they all agreed to let me escape from my pseudo-cubicle… I missed my train on the way back, so I whipped out my blackberry and played brick-breaker. Friday sucked, and if it’s any indication of how much time I will have on my hands at work – I might as well just quit now… no use in wasting my time.

JJRC

Are you hitting on me?

The other day I was walking home from the train station.  The commute was a painful one as it always is.  I decided I needed to go into the “Garden of Eden” to purchase a little cake for me and my family.  I wandered in there quietly looking at the pastries.  I settled on a little New York Cheesecake that was sitting behind the display case.  I was looking over the counter… trying to catch the gaze of the attendant that was running back and forth, and I could make no contact.  Once I made contact, this is what happened:

Attendant: Hey, I was too busy paying attention to something that wasn’t you.  Can I get you something?

Me: I would like a small New York Cheesecake… that’s all

Attendant: oh – that’s a cool earring.  It looks really nice.

Me: Oh… uh thanks.  I got it done a couple of years ago.

Attendant: Look at you, you know it looks good.

Me: Yeah…

Attendant: So, here’s you cake (he extends it to me, but pulls it away when I go to grab it).  Say “Pretty Please” (giggles)

Me: Umm, how about a regular please, and a thank you?

Attendant: Yeah, that’s good.

Ok, so, I thought this was a little odd.  I was wondering whether he was hitting on me or if he was just overly friendly.  I really couldn’t decode his conversation.  It was interesting.  I had been hit on by women before, but this was the first time it had ever happened with a man.  I’m flattered, but what was the reason behind being hit on by him?  Did he assume I’m gay?  That sucks, because now I’m roaming around the streets looking like a gay man.  There’s nothing wrong with it, but I’m not wanting to be pegged by something I’m not.  It’s like someone walking up to me and saying, “Excuse me, ma’am.”  Once again, there’s nothing wrong with being a woman… but I’m not one.  

It got me thinking on this point how do people know when someone’s interested (unless you’re shooting in the dark trying to hit – anything).  What would have happened if I had recipricated the flirting or conversation in a more positive way?  Would we have then exchanged numbers and then gone on a date?  Is dating a gay man the same as dating a woman?  It’s so odd to think that there will be a world of human social interactions that I will never be a part of.  I wonder what it’s like and if the grass is greener.  I doubt I’ll ever find out.  Not that there’s anything wrong with that.

 JJRC

If you’re stupid and you know it – Raise you hand!

I think my hands been up for years on this one.  I feel that with age, my mind has started to go quickly.  Either I learn things right the first time, or I spend months correcting myself until it becomes second nature.  My new job is  this way.  One should not be thrown into waters and told to swim… if that’s the case – they’ll never swim properly – ever.  This is what I’ll be doing for the next couple of months until I get transferred out of my department into a better one – or I quit all together and find a new job that’s 1 – closer to Manhattan (or better yet in Manhattan) or 2- more fulfilling and less intense.

The first week of this job was complete hell.  Turns out when you don’t know what you’re doing, and the atmosphere is completely stressful, you throw up a couple of times.  Anxiety is fun like that.  Everything you eat has a party in your stomach and you hosting… eventually your stomach gets mad and kicks everyone out through the front door.  I sat there wondering how long it would take me to hurl into my garbage can if it came to that.  I didn’t.  I did get close once – that would have probably made a terrible scene with people hovering over me as I blew hunks.. Luckily, I’d just walk hurried down the hall into the bathroom and stand over the toilet.  If someone was already in there – I’d hold it in and blew my nose or something stupid… Luckily that week is now over.

If anything, this job has taught me one thing – what I don’t like about a job.  I don’t like a dry non-social environment where people are trapped within their shells.  All the other departments are alive with chatter… One of them (the one next to mine) has a fish named Elmo… but it’s blue – and apparently going blind due to the round bowl.  I am not a part of that department… so I sit at my cubicle waiting for work to plop on my desk – and/or that growling voice of my supervisor. It’s either a call about how something never made it through – or something didn’t make it through because of me.

I’m surprised I haven’t been viciously beaten yet, beceause even when I pay close attention to detail… I fuck up.  Am I stupid?  No, I’m not actually.  I’m a modest man, but even I’m aware at the cognitive abilities I have.  I can reason pretty well and can rationalize any situation – even when I am freaking out. I just don’t seem to invest in this company enough to make it a top priority to become most excellent at this dull 9-6 (yes 6 – it’s not a typo) job.  Your standard 45 hour week (they used the word standard – I think it’s slave labor).  Not to mention that joyful hour long commute to and from (I’m so happy I could cry thinking about it) .  At least I’m getting paid… right?

Maybe, I’ll stop playing stupid and zoom through the ranks… or I can continue and have them fire me – then ka-ching – unemployment checks!  I love getting paid.
JJRC

And you thought the circus had a lot of clowns

Corporate America is an interesting land where few people can actually say they understand everything.  Today, the co-owner of the company took the new people into a quick meeting and went with this long arduous analogy.  We can be Triple Quarter Pounder eaters… or we could eat the extremely healthy ultra wheat lean organic beef burger with ancient organic tomatoes and other healthy crap.  This analogy was supposed to relate to our productivity – I found it hard to follow – so all it made me think about was how delicious hamburgers are.It turns out that the world is made up of people who think they’re healthy, and people who are the epitome of the word itself.  The healthy workers know that they are needed in the company – value themselves and their employer. 

The unhealthy worker does the minimum and gets a paycheck, but does not invest in the company’s future.  I actually managed to zone out for like 5 minutes and I didn’t miss a beat.  Being a history major taught me at least that much – people who like to assume they’re the commander of their speaking subject will most likely go into long verbose terms – this was such a case. What this disconnected speech made me realize was that I am an unhealthy worker.  I sit at my desk at work and chat with my sister through the magic of Gmail… The people over the cubicle wall are on the phone executing schedules and making plans for the company.  The people behind me discuss nasty injuries and play games like – through the mini football into the oversized Texas hat. The Texas hat is huge by the way.   

Is it my fault I have the unhealthy triple quarter pounder work ethic?   What should I be doing besides discussing my co-workers with my sister?  I don’t know.  This turns out to be a flaw from the system.  I am new, and thus no one trusts me to do anything.  I’m trained quickly and then thrown in a desk chair and let loose… What am I supposed to be doing?  If I followed the lead of my co-workers, I would walk around the office and inquire the details of everyone’s weekend.  I don’t have the brainpower to pretend I want to know.  Instead, I sit at my desk like a kept dog waiting for a folder to fly through my desk so I can ravage the work out of it. 

Sigh, though I am getting paid, and I do have a sweet desk with a laptop I can take home.  I probably won’t elevate to CEO of this particular company.   And, mind you, it is possible to elevate myself to the level of CEO – the company is that young and flexible.  It becomes apparent that I am really capable of understanding so much more than I think I am.  If anything, I now think – if this company exists… a company I made can exist I’ve only been here one week, and already, I’ve learned that desk work won’t make me happy.  I need people. I need air, and most importantly, I need people who didn’t go to good schools and excelled.  It turns out that everyone for the most part is exactly the same. 

Everyone seems to be from the same cookie sheet of Ivy League perfection, and I am that one ugly burnt cookie, that is oh so delicious, but no one wants to taste.  Sigh, maybe if I work hard enough to scrap the crud off of my cookie body – I’ll move out of my rut and define the company I work for, but most likely I’ll make them throw me away because they don’t appreciate how good a burnt cookie is. 

 JJRC