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Thursday, Nov. 14, 2002 / 11:38 a.m. ~The Right Decision, and Heat Feels Good, It�s Warm~ I did exactly what I said I was going to do, for a change. Which just shows to go ya, I can. I am capable of follow through. Whew! I did go home at lunch and wash dishes, put the Mammies away for future, more politically incorrect times, and I did clear out the laundry/utility room, and I did call the apartments office, I did say I got the Unit Inspection notice at my door, and this is a good time to let you know the pilot light on the furnace won�t stay lit, and, and, and, by the way, hey, the garbage disposal is not working. Yeah, that�s right. I was never intended to be a grownup, I firmly believe this. I will always remain childlike and na�ve, incapable of doing the simplest grownup things. Tasks. Or at the very least, I will remain forever incapable of believing I can. In the long run, it all gets done. Everything that needs to be done will be done. That�s my life. What a joy, a sensual pleasure, to have heat in my apartment, and especially on a night during which the temperature outside drops to the 30s. I set the thermostat to 65 and I heard it come on in the early morning, the heat. Mmmmm� heat. Nice. I couldn�t tell anyone had been in my apartment, at first. Then I saw the pilot light lit and burning blue, without the bits of white I�d seen when I tried to keep it lit. I want to know what he did, I wish I�d been there to see, so I can do it if it needs it again. I tried, and I failed, but some man came along and made it happen. I hate that. I do not want to rely on men to fix things for me. I want to be able to do these things on my own. I followed the pilot lighting procedure to the letter, but he knew more than I know. It�s done. In the kitchen was the note, the rug moved away from the sink, a bit of black spatters on the wall, the counter (goosh?), the rubber drain thingie moved aside from the drain. The note said, �GD needs replacement�. I�m only assuming he�ll be back today. I kept the sink clean, left the light on for him. It�s nothing, see? Norma and Gladys seemed fine, like nothing had happened at all, and though I asked repeatedly for a breakdown of what �the man� did, was �the man� nice, etc., they weren�t talking. The other big stress of the day was an afternoon meeting to let us all know that D., the Supervisor, is moving to Japan. Her husband is in the military and this is typical of a military couple. Three years here, four years there. So much to think about. (Oooo, she�s being all friendly now that she�s leaving - she just said to Listerine, �You sound much better today!� Blech!) (I almost just used a semi colon! Horrors!!!) I know I should apply, at least. But if I�m turned down, if I weren�t offered the job, that would really piss me off, because I�m the likely choice, I�ve been here five years in February, I know this department inside and out. This is why I don�t want the job. I hate this place. I hate the way the Big Corporation for whom we act as Outsourcing, doesn�t give a flying FUCK about us or how we operate. I hate the management here, I hate the wannabe corporate red tape bullshit, and I hate half the people who come here to work and somehow manage to stay, to coast under any radar installed, mainly because there is NO radar installed. I�d be a bitch if I became the Supervisor here, I�d be fun, but I�d be tough, I�d put an end to a lot of bullshit that goes on in this department. And I know I�d never get along with the Manager (M) of our department. We�ve already butted heads, numerous times, and I�ve told her point blank that I don�t agree with, nor care for, her management style. No, I don�t want to lord over these people here, I don�t want the headache of being the one the irate callers get transferred to, I don�t want to be in the position of trying to make things happen and seeing close up how they never will happen, and why. I want to get OUT of here. I want a big pile of money, lots of free time, I want freedom, not extra shackles on my arms and legs. I want to write, to read, to take photographs, to learn to paint, I want to hike in the desert. I want to have a dog or two or three, a small house that�s easy to clean, I want to get away from all the smog and the traffic, the people who do nothing more than piss me off. But the thing that�s bothering me is that no one else in this department wants her job either. This means we�ll get someone who�s currently in another department, someone who knows nothing about what we do, how we�ve been doing it, what we�ve been through, how we got here, where we should really be going. It could potentially be really, really bad. I came in this morning and said that. To Listerine, to Veronica, to Penelope. They don�t want it. No one wants it. I�m going to try not to worry about it. But I can�t help feeling like this is my chance to make things better, to get things done, this is my chance to shape this place up. And I�m not taking it because it�s more than I want. I just need to sit here with my book, my EW, my free weekly, my CDs, and be glad I�m getting paid to do so. Just be thankful that I have this for now. It pays my bills, it�s so close to home, it�s not hard, it�s stressful, but it�s not hard. Until I get off my ass and try in earnest to get a job in a creative field, this is it. At least I think it is. I think I�m making the right decision. Cost of the War in Iraq
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