« October 2006 | Main | December 2006 »
My top 5 favorite posts from the month (in no particular order):
Hockeyfrilla
Use Your Acting!
Don’t even get me started on Talk Talk
Sometimes it takes a minor concussion, to save a buck
It would only be gross, if I did it on purpose
I always forget that there are only 30 days in November. D recently taught me a trick using my knuckles to help remember which months have 30 or 31 days (February being the obvious exception.) Alas every time I look at my knuckles, I'm only reminded to moisturize. Next thing I know, “Project: where the hell is the hand lotion?” has reared its ugly head and November has 31 days.
I’ve enjoyed posting everyday and I hope that you’ve enjoyed reading what I had to say. I’ve also found a few new blogs to read and spotted a few that have linked to me - how cool! I hope to go through and update my blogroll so that it is reciprocal. Only fair that if you link to me, I link to you (and vice versa.)
My site was mentioned here. If you were not aware of the category reviews, go here. I forgot there were prizes! (Is someone going through and validating every post? Poor soul!)
Overall, NaBloPoMo was fun. I would have to say that the biggest challenge for me was “idea organization.” If you ever see my workspace, you will notice that I'm a big fan of the “post-it" note. All of my ideas, for anything, are usually conceived by a single phrase or sketch, scribbled on a wrinkled and often coffee stained post-it. I also leave a word doc open at all times, and write whenever whatever pops into my head. On the day of the post, I just pick whatever idea tickles my fancy and build on it. I started to write this post about 2 weeks ago :)
The randomizer was fun until I had to keep clicking past the blogs no longer in play. Although I could go on and on about the several blogging faux pas I saw out there, I would have to say my biggest qualm is: “if you have nothing to say - don’t say nothing, literally, for the sake of saying something.” Did that make sense?
I’ve never considered myself a writer and anything relating to the English language bores me to tears (I have a BS in Imaging Art and Science and a nearly completed MS in Computing and Information Science for crying out loud!) However I've really enjoyed posting to this blog, intermittently, over the last (gasp) 6 years. Wait, I was told that I was the best writer in an English Composition 101 class that I took at a local community college. Then again, I was also the only student that did not bring an infant to class. Anyway, last week I signed my soul over to Holidailies 2006 and I'm looking forward to another month of daily posts. Sounds like I’ve got too much time on my hands (toooooo much, clap clap, time on my haaaaaands!) Actually... I configured my server for scheduled posting (I love the word cron, sounds like a name for a Star Trek villain - CRON!!!) and I have a few bugs to work out so I can make posts from my mobile phone. Nerd alert.
Yes, plenty of content for the coming weeks. Thank you for reading!
There are 3 things that I am afraid of:
1. People dressed up as Storm Troopers
2. Pennies (yes, the coin)
3. Choking to death, specifically, choking while alone
I think we all can agree that choking, sucks. I’m sure we’ve all experienced things going down the wrong pipe on occasion. I've been known to enjoy a delicious gulp of morning coffee, only to find myself gagging, coughing, feeling my face turn bright red (which further embarrassed me and thereby increased intensity), and then the tears - oh the tears (why must it always happen to me when I am with a group of people?) Perhaps you have even choked on something and required the assistance of another for removal?
When I was 13, I laughed while eating and a piece of apple lodged into my windpipe. It was scary as hell, but within a few minutes I was able to cough it out on my own (man, the PROJECTORY RATE on that thing was astonishing!) Afterward I was fine, but it still shook me up pretty badly. Hence my fear.
There are signs posted in every restaurant, and the world should be well of aware of what to do when another person is choking. But what if you are alone? It happens!
I acquired the following information from the Heimlich Institute (I wonder if the “I’ve fallen and I can't get up” lady was the artist’s muse?)
"When you choke, you can't speak or breathe and you need help immediately. Follow these steps to save yourself from choking:
1. Make a fist and place the thumb side of your fist against your upper abdomen, below the ribcage and above the navel.
2. Grasp your fist with your other hand and press into your upper abdomen with a quick upward thrust.
3. Repeat until object is expelled.
Alternatively, you can lean over a fixed horizontal object (table edge, chair, railing) and press your upper abdomen against the edge to produce a quick upward thrust. Repeat until object is expelled. See a physician immediately after rescue.
Do not view this post as grim, it is a solution to a potential problem. The Heimlich is not the only life saving technique out there, so it would be wise for you to learn or upgrade your skills in rescue breathing and CPR, especially if you have kids.
Remember: take small bites and eat slowly while gnawing on that T-bone and guzzling the merlot flavored Franzia, please.
Because it feels like freakin' December 25th "kastat upp" all over the Lindson-Brederquist household!
As a result, I’ve been on an ornament purchasing frenzy for…
PROJECT: FIRST CHRISTMAS TREE OF MY* VERY OWN!!!
The tree arrived via UPS today and we are decorating it tonight. Stay tuned.
* And by "MY," I really mean “OUR” - it is more special-er for me because D has had his own tree before. MY MY MY!!!
And if the cloud bursts, thunder in your ear
You shout and no one seems to hear.
And if the band you're in starts playing different tunes
I'll see you on the dark side of the moon.
- Pink Floyd
My favorite snack, so salty and exfoliating. I doubt I will ever find a toothpaste more efficient (in plaque removal.)
American Customs Official: “How long were you in Canada today?”
Me: “5 hours. Unless you want me to include the 3 hours I spent in my car, in this line.”
Call me a square, but I think that it would be more appropriate to set your photos of the open casket funeral you attended to private.
Relax, stuff yourself silly, and more importantly… be thankful!
Like a car, or the eye, the brain is also capable of experiencing what is commonly known as a blindspot, an obstruction of thought brought on by everyday distractions.
Blindspots on short term memory are more prevalent than long term. For example, you arise one morning craving an omelet. You walk into the kitchen, open the fridge and, gasp, all the eggs are all gone. Since you cannot think of a tastier breakfast alternative, you throw on some shoes, a coat, and drive to the nearest store.
Once in the store, you grab a shopping basket and proceed to make the long walk to the dairy aisle. As you move, your eyes focus on other needed items that you place lovingly into the basket. After debating whether $1.29 for a bottle of ketchup is a good deal or not, and stopping to glance through the pages of a cheesy celebrity magazine, you proceed to the checkout. After cashing out, you drive home, put the groceries away, then move on to make your well deserved and highly desired omelet.
Only you forgot to get the eggs.
But what about blindspots on the long term? And onto example #2.
A few weeks ago, I signed onto AOL Instant Messenger and was immediately bombarded with the follow message:
“Emily__ wants to send you a message, will you accept?”
Emily? Emily who? I do not know of anyone named Emily. Since I do not give my screen name to just anybody, I rejected and banned Emily__ from ever contacting me again.
The next evening, my sister Erika called to chat. She was lamenting about how our 14 year old sister is always on the computer, talking to her friends via IM.
“Instant Messenger eh?” I said. “What is her screen name, I’ll send her a message.”
“It's Emily__”
Oh, thaaaat’s right. I have a Sister named Emily.
Alas, my attempts to dig up significant psychological references to back up my post and make me look like less of a dodo bird, were futile.
After 20 minutes of filling in letter after letter, block after block, up and over, across and down, with a red sharpie and no assistance, I completed 75% of my first newspaper crossword puzzle.
It was an act that I can only describe as wholesome madness. It was *gasp* surprisingly enjoyable and fun! I wanted to keep going but my brain hurt. My brain hurt real bad.
I’ve had no desire to “crossword” until now. Perhaps there is a direct correlation between length of unemployment and increased play with the newspaper. Maybe I need to start mixing some metamucil into my morning smoothie.
My only fear is that this will lead me down the dark and deviant path, otherwise known as newspaper Bridge.*
* What the hell is newspaper Bridge anyway? I thought Bridge was a card game? Where are the cards?!?!
I've noticed that these "quizzes" have been spreading around the NaBloPoMo like a made-up malady. I cannot think of a more time consuming way to find out useless and irrelevant info about ourselves.
OK, I can - but it is not as much fun. Cannot-stop-clicking-on-the-radial-buttons-because-I-want-to-click-all-day-long.
is lame! C’mon, my snowshoes are getting anxious!
K: “I’m more afraid of boogers than ear wax. I hate boogers. Ear wax does not bother me so much.”
D: “Boogers and ear wax are essentially the same thing.”
K: "No, they are not. Boogers are a mix of lung stuff and dust while ear wax is a collection of unused gray matter.”
D: (shoots me a weird look)
K: “And they both have very different tastes.”
D: “What?”
K: “Oh come on. You’ve never tasted your own ear wax?”
D: (nods head no)
K: "What? You mean to tell me that as a child, you’ve never scratched the inside of your ear then, unintentionally, continued to bite the same nail you just stuck into your ear?”
D: “Uh, no.”
K: “Well I did. Once. And I was like, ‘Whoa, whaaaaaaat was THAT?!?’”
(Moment of silence)
K: “Ear wax tastes nasty.”
Nothing.
Except maybe this:
It is a Tomte! And it holds Glögg!
1. “Don’t Drink Poison”
2. “Get Off the Internet”
"Upon us all a little rain must fall" - Led Zeppelin
Sometimes you need to stop what you’re doing. Drive home. Throw the groceries onto the kitchen floor. Run upstairs with wet sneakers on. Grab the camera (despite the juiceless battery). Run back outside. Shoot your heart out.
Yesterday it rained and rained and rained, but once the clouds parted - the sky was absolutely breathtaking. A rare sight for this part of the world.
(I wish I remembered to grab my tripod.)
I like to watch TV. Whether it is a DVD or something on network programming, the TV is usually on every night in this household. I feel no shame in admitting that because people who say they do not watch or do not like TV are usually lying. Or high. I know because I’ve caught them in their vast web of TV viewing deceit. The way I see it is this: if you own a properly working television, there is a good chance that you turn it on every once and awhile - and there is even a better chance that you like it!
I have found myself “talking” to the TV lately, mostly to commercials. The following provoke the most dialog/ head scratches from yours truly. I guess they did their job.
“People, HPV is sexually transmitted!”
[This is not to say that you shouldn’t get yourself checked out, I‘m just sick and tired of companies (especially drug companies) misinforming or withholding information to scare folks into seeking treatment.]
“Why would anyone eat THAT?!?!”
[Referring to KFC‘s Mashed Potato Bowl. I'm guity of some pretty interesting concoctions, but you don’t mix gravy with cheese! (Even the actors look grossed out.)]
“What is Café Latte, in French?” Now I know I only took 1 year of the language, but I am pretty sure that "Café Latte" does not mean “Good Morning.”
[McDonalds commercial showing off their new line of Fancy Schmancy coffee drinks.]
“I’m Brian roast beef!”
[I say this while watching any Arby’s commercial. Especially the one where the guy wallpapers his cat to the wall - classic!]
“Secreeeeet Lovers...”
[T-mobile commercial where the guy finds out that his girlfriend is his best friend’s number 5. I’m not sure what all of that even means, I just really like to sing along. It made me want “Secret Lovers“ by Atlantic Starr as my ringtone, real bad!]
As I was squatting down in front of our townhouse... I felt D quickly step behind me and with great panic in his voice, whispered:
“Honeeeeey, crack kills!”
Sure enough, unbeknownst to me, my pants were halfway down my arse and my bum cleavage was fully visible (for the entire neighborhood to see.) I guess I need to be a little bit more careful about what I make fun of to just keep my mouth shut and my pants up.
I have a mouth full of big ol’ choppers and a large, toothy grin. I get compliments for the most part, but many assume it was the result of braces.
The truth? I’ve never experienced a metal mouth nor was I born to have straight teeth. As a matter of fact, when I was 8, the gap between my 2 central incisors was wide enough to fit a straw.
A STRAW!
As I grew, the gap between my 2 front teeth miraculously resolved on its own. Yet, all my other teeth remained crooked. At age 11, I started to become very self-conscious about my smile and despite looking totally constipated, I trained myself to smile with my mouth closed.
After about a year of looking pissed off and bound up in photos… it happened. A single event that forever changed my oral life (giggle).
In the 7th grade, I went on a field trip to a water park with my Girl Scout troop. While I was walking around on my tippy toes in deep end of the wave pool, a big wave caught me off guard and sent me sailing into shallower water.
SMACK!
I can recall brief blackness then extreme disorientation. When I came to, I saw some kid rubbing his head and giving me a dirty look. I felt a sudden sharp pain in my jaw, and I could not bite down because my teeth were jostled into awkward positions. I felt the jagged edge of a newly chipped tooth…
“MY MOUTH!“ was all I could yell. A lifeguard helped me out of the pool and escorted me to the first aide station.
Within days my chipped tooth was repaired. Within weeks my original bite was restored. Within months my teeth started to move. They moved and moved until they found new and exciting locations within my mouth… until they were more organized… until they were straight. It was glorious!
(I’m not saying that they are perfect, but considering the alternative - I'll take it!)
And to this day, even a new hygienist will ask when I had my braces taken off. Suckers.
How about you - au natural, braces, or a swift horse’s kick to the mouth?
Strong emphasis on the where. Thesis muse, where are thou?
I'm having a hard time staying on task for my thesis proposal. To say that I am “easily distracted” would be putting it mildly. Google homepage, the randomizer, mop & bucket - I shake my fist at you!
To those of you who've been through this sort of thing before - how do you stay motivated on a project that requires total autonomy and mind numbing loneliness? I’m seeking advice and words of encouragement... perhaps even a verbal ass kicking is due. Tell me your secrets!
Now I’m tempted to write down what I had for dinner this evening, along with a complete synopsis of last night’s dream, topped off with a poem (a real lengthy one, about birds and hope) then calling it a day! (Save meeeeeeeeee.)
FYI: I was sent a copy of the commercial this morning. Man oh man oh man oh man.
FYI2: Heroes is on tonight. See? Distracted.
After I started my car, the chorus of a popular 80’s one-hit-wonder tune played on the stereo:
"In a big country dreams stay with you
Like a lover's voice fires the mountainside
Stay alive…”
D: “Who does this song?”
Me: “Big Country.”
D: “I know [the name of the song], but what band?”
And at that moment I was transported back in time... a time in history when a younger me asked my Dad, "who is this on the radio?"
It was The Guess Who. Oh, the high jinks that followed!
I sort of forgot about that. Then again, there are no weekends in the land of unemployment either. I'm a heaping bowl of discombobulation.
Influenced (at a young age) by mega doses of early MTV and Dr. Demento - it's no surprise that this song & video is one of my all time favorites.
[video on YouTube, here]
Trivia: do you know which fairly well known actor both starred and directed this video (no cheating!)
If you happen to be watching channel 13 (here in Rochester, New York) and notice a commercial featuring a girl with a Santa’s hat on, running as though she had a boom mike up her bum…
that’d be me.
A friend of mine who works for the local ABC network affiliate, asked me to appear in a commercial promoting the upcoming Arthritis Foundation Jingle Bell Run. Being that I am no stranger to the performing arts [sic], with both my theatre and previous commercial* experience, how could I say no?
After I arrived to the shoot, myself and another "actor" were adorned with festive garb and escorted into the studio. From there, the producer instructed us to stand in front of the green screen, run in place, then read off the cue cards.
Wait, cue cards? There was no mention of cue cards!
I was nervous. Very nervous. Very nervous and hot (winter running gear + jogging in place under the studio lights = sweat city).
Out of the two of us, I was chosen to go first (doh). Can I just say that it is really hard to smile, run, and read from a cue card without sounding like a monotonous college radio DJ or a total spazzhead?!?! There were a bunch of outtakes, not to mention a few incidents that I think qualify for the station’s annual gag reel. If I only I could get a job in making a total arse of myself; I bet I would be really good at it.
The producer gave me some pointers:
“Talk to the camera as if you were a Kindergarten teacher! Do you have any children?”
“Uh, no.”
“OK. Say the words like you are a Cheerleader! Do you have any Cheerleading experience?”
“Uh, no.”
The sound guy started to laugh. “Did you see the face she just made?” he asked.
"Just be PERKY!" The producer requested.
If they use any of my 100% faux-perk induced lines complete with dramatic hand gestures, who knows. I guess we'll just have to wait and see, and pray they don't.
* I was in a commercial for the Rochester Marathon as “girl in black, running” - a real stretch for me.
... I don’t know how, but they found me.
(OK, perhaps my license plate was a bit of a hint.)
While I was in Boston this past September, I stayed in an area with “permit-only” street parking. Not a problem, I had a guest permit to use and I placed it lovingly in my front window. The next morning I went out to my car to find a $40 orange parking ticket glowing from beneath my windshield wiper.
Son of a bitch! I looked all around and yes, I was parked legally. I looked at the ticket, “Guest Abuse.” Guest Abuse? Are you kidding me? THE PERMIT IS IN MY WINDOW! A ticket for “your car was giving me the stink eye” would have been less ridiculous!
After some advisement from peers, I decided to ignore the ticket. Why would the state of Massachusetts want to waste the time tracking someone over in New York? It made sense at the time.
The plan was working well up until yesterday - when I received the following hello from the town of violation.
Dear Kirsten,
You can run, but you cannot hide. You are a terrible person because you own a car that gave one of our officers the stink eye you abused your right to park here. Therefore, your ticket has now increased to $45. Failure to appear or pay violations will subject your vehicle to seizures. Your near perfect driving record will be forever tarnished by your unfortunate decision to abuse our sacred parking permits.
Cheers,
"town of violation"
Not verbatim… but you get the idea. Normally I would pay the stupid ticket and forget about it - but I did no wrong! There is the option to fight it, but the travel expenses exceed the fine. Oh heavens, what should I do: swallow my pride and pay the $45 that I really cannot afford to loose right now - or continue down the path of “there’s nobody home!”
Your wisdom is appreciated.
Mouse Potato - Someone who spends all their time on the computer surfing the net or playing games. Similar to couch potato.
The past 2 weeks were kind of tough for me, physically. I was feeling fairly wiped out after the marathon; not from the race itself, just the excitement, stress, and anticipation leading up to it. During the past 2 weeks, I spent most of the work day here at home… on this here machine… leaving the house only for the occasional errand. Therefore I have made no effort in my appearance because the post office, bank, and library could care less if I’m walking around in stale clothes covered with food splotches and ragamuffin hair. And it has been a lot easier to roll out of bed and throw on whatever is in the pile on the floor.
Yeah, gross. I know.
I had a wake up call this past Thursday night. While out to dinner (Chinese, if you must know) D gives me a surprised look and asked,
“are you wearing your pjamies?”
I looked down and sure enough, I was. But just the top half! At least I showered and my underwear was clean. You know the saying, “never leave the house without clean underwear.”
[My guess is because it is considered rude to wear dirty knickers during an autopsy.]
I decided that it was time for a change… time to end the 2 week funk! I started by removing the jeans that I’ve had on for a week straight before they removed themselves. It was a good start. Now it is time to get out, breath some fresh air, and see people. And no, I do not need to talk to the people, I just need to see them.
And with that I would like to declare today: “do it for the sake of increased productivity day!” 3 tasks have been assigned to me, by me. Prerequisites include: getting me into the shower at a decent hour, dressing me in clean clothes sans coffee stains and soy milk gunk, and more importantly…
getting me to leave the house!
Task #1: I am going to the polls to vote. Hey, might as well - who can pass up free stickers, juice and cookies? What! You only get juice and cookies after giving blood? Well, what about the sticker?
[They really need to think about having juice and cookies available at the polls. I bet that would increase voter turn out.]
Task #2: I am going to pack up my trusty laptop, hop into my trusty Honda and drive to my sketchy school to get some work done. I shall become one with the 18-22 year olds and eat at the Ritskellar for lunch (oh that just reminded me of the "hotburger" vs. "the RIT model Railroad Club" incident - goodtimes). I hear the kids are really into Green Day nowadays.
Task #3: I am going to the gym. Nothing says, “hey, I must be alive because it hurts!” more than a few miles on the treadmill. If I said that I was looking forward to it, I would not not be lying. Last time I was there, the guy scanning my card tried to ravish me with his mad flirting skills:
Him: "What's that for?" (pointing to my bandana)
Me: "It is a bandana, I wear it on my head"
Him: (continues to look at me without saying a word)
Me: "Um, thanks for asking...?" (walks away)
I bet he gets lots of chicks. This is why people only need to be seen and not heard!
Happy Tuesday everyone. I wish you the best in productivity today, from the bottom of my Green Day hating heart.
This past Saturday evening, at dinner...
D: "I was having a lot of fun on my hike this evening with my headlamp."
Me: "Oh yeah?"
D: "Yeah. There were a lot of deer out and about, running around. I turned the lamp off for a few seconds so I could watch them run off after I turned it back on."
Me: "Cool... keep an eye out for aliens."
D: (Drops fork onto plate) "Why do you always have to scare me?"
Sor-ry. I thought that everyone knew the probability of being abducted by aliens increases significantly when alone in the woods?!?!
I’m an OK cook. D seems to like what I have to offer, and since I found out i'm gluten intolerant, i’ve made great strides to perfect my previously adored dishes like lasagna and mac & cheese (the "from scratch" not "from a box" kind). I would have to say that I am better at making foods without instructions. On the rare chance that I do follow recipe, it must possess latitude in the improvisations department because I am:
A. cheap
B. not a good follower of directions
For example, I was at my mom’s house once and I had a strong urge to make tapioca. Lo’ and behold I found a box, followed the directions and voila! I made a tapioca brick.
A brick? Funny, tapioca is not supposed to have a brick-like consistency. It is supposed to be soft and pudding-like. I was totally scratching my head as to what went wrong. My mom saw the empty box in the garbage and asked how much I had made.
"I made a box!"
She explained to me that the box was not a single serving of tapioca - it is like 25 servings of tapioca. As a result, no one wanted any of my tapioca brick. I did not want to eat my tapioca brick. Frowny face.
Back in high school, I was bored of Saved by the Bell reruns and I decided to make fudge. After combing all of the appropriate ingredients, creating a fudge like consistency, the directions told me to "drop a dollop of mixture into a bowl of ice water to see if a ball forms." Well, I interpreted that to mean "pour the entire mixture into a bowl of ice water to see if a ball forms." Funny, the result was a big bowl of chocolate soup, not a ball? "This will never solidify!" I thought.
Duh.
Of course, my improvisations have a tendency to go wrong too. Like the time my Sister and I tried to boil an egg in the microwave. We were super wee young, and well… at least she has learned from that.
Oh, and if have ever wanted to try buttermilk, because the idea of butter and milk sounds delicious to you, don’t. At least don’t pour yourself a tall glass and gulp it. That shit is disgusting - but you probably already knew that.
Today marks month 3 of unemployment. Hooray?
But there has been progress! I am actually quite happy (giddy, in fact) to announce that I have returned to school. This was not a decision that I made lightly. As you may or may not know, I finished all the coursework to my Masters degree 3 years ago. I then proceeded to write up a thesis proposal, which was approved…
and then, for a slew of reasons that I will not get into here, I stopped.
I guess the one nice thing about the horrible job economy is these parts (Western New York, an FYI for you newbie readers via NaBloPoMo randomizer - hi!), is that there are a LOT of resources available for people to get back on track. I was quite surprised actually. Here I was thinking that as soon as the State started to send me the weekly check to fund my existence - the pressure would be on to find something, anything, AND quickly.
That is actually not the case at all. I found out that as a “dislocated worker” I am eligible for a sweet discount on tuition at my alma matter, RIT. Before I jumped at the opportunity, I took the time to meet with a career counselor, a rather quirky dude who basically confirmed that I am NOT going to find what I am looking for around this area and agreed that this is the time to finish my master’s. Just what I needed to hear! A completed masters will open more doors for me in terms of going into education or taking on more of a consultant type role. No more 9-5, and no more cubes… please.
The decision was made, I applied, and was accepted to receive the grant. Last week I became reacquainted with my committee chair (who, thankfully, still remembered me!) and decided to trash my old proposal and start from scratch.
With that being said, my time now is being spent on the new proposal. My goal is to have it completed and approved by the end of the month so I can register for Winter quarter in December. Ideally, I would like to have it completed in one quarter… and I hope that since I can work on it fulltime, it will happen. I will not bore you with the details, but my new topic idea excites the hell out of me.
Can I just say that it feels soooooo good to be using my brain again?
Believe it or not, “Hockeyfrilla” is Swedish for "ice hockey haircut" (also known as the Mullet.)
Well, we called it “feathered” back then.
I was employed with Wendy’s for a long time - 16 months! Well, 16 months is a long time by teenage standards. Anyway, as I look at this ridiculous photo of myself, I can not help but think… geeze, I’ve had a LOT of jobs since I was 17! How many you ask? Well, let’s see: I’ve been a hotel housekeeper, toiletry peddler, 3 time coffee barista, nurse’s aide, and despite my terrible handwriting - a note taker.
Just to name a few.
After some quick math, (cue “quick math” music) I realized that I have held about 22 different positions with about 17 different organizations over the past 12 years (give or take a few, it is late and I am tired)! Perhaps you are thinking “Whoa! This girl cannot hold a job!“ Not true. I have held 2, sometimes 3 of these positions simultaneously, WHILE IN SCHOOL FULL TIME!
Even though a few companies that I have worked for have folded while I was unemployed (I was beginning to think I was the Corporate Grim Reaper there for a bit, if there is such a thing) and I have quit a few jobs “on the spot” thanks to some unfavorable workplace politics... I can proudly say that I have never been fired*. And that makes me feel better, for some reason.
I think I just started to enjoy my current employment status just a wee bit more. It is 100% BS free.
* well, OK... I just remembered there was that time a previous boss both fired and stranded 2 co-workers and I in Ireland. Thankfully, psycho boss came to his senses and I was only fired for a weekend. That is a long, yet amusing tale for another time.
