Consolation in a Jar
I used to have a blog named Consolation in a Jar, way back in 2006. It had a lot of deep entries, and the name was something that alluded to the depression I was experiencing at the time. And I’m sorry to say that this entry is going to be about my shitty day. It’s past midnight, and I was going to sleep early, but I’m in such a bad state that I have to let this out.
I’m crying. Not like it matters or makes a difference to what I am writing. But every once in a while I like to believe that everyone is allowed to cry and let out their feelings. Even Kevin Wu & Ryan Higa (kevjumba & nigahiga on Youtube) agree that tough guys have feelings, and ‘don’t be afraid to cry; you can still be a manly guy’.
I just emailed someone to cancel a job interview. Why? I couldn’t stand it anymore. The location is far from home. Public transport cannot get me there and I have to walk a mile from the closest bus stop. There are no train stations nearby. I cannot drive. No one can drive me. This is what I envisaged in the future – a job that would take two hours to get to from home, which would not be worth the money I would be getting paid.
It did not seem realistic. The interview was supposed to be at 8:00am before I emailed to cancel. That time is eight hours from now. They never contacted me by phone and I do not have their number. It was the only thing to do. I feel like a tool, cancelling an interview so damn fucking late.
It wasn’t the right job. I was not going to enjoy it.
It was also in stark contrast with the phone call I got earlier today about another job. My details and resume (CV) were forwarded to a company searching for a junior web designer. I was asked about my qualifications and future prospects, and from that phone call from a very lovely lady, I am really hoping to get an interview. Compared to someone who simply emailed me and did not greet me nor mention their name in the email (I had to look at the “from” field), and some place in the middle of nowhere, near no public transport…
Why does looking for a job suck?
Also, while typing this post has calmed me down, I am still irked that my mum forced me to tell her what was wrong. She noticed my bad mood and asked what was wrong, to which I replied, “I don’t want to talk about it.”
Please tell me what is so hard to understand about those seven words?
My mum did kindly suggest I look for some shoes. She finished work late and shoes were on sale so she told me to come along shortly before she finished. I found many shoes I liked, but none in my size.
Why do I have to have such small feet? I love them, but I can’t find anything that fits my feet. I don’t have any summer shoes. :(
I still have not been paid for the website work I did. Doubtful, I finally sent another email firmly asking for my payment, to which I finally got a reply. I’m still angry, because I found that the work I had done was deleted. Sign that I’m no longer wanted? Well I’m ready to flip the bird. I just want the money for the work I did.
I miss James. I miss Lilian. Goddamn, I miss everybody.