Nekkid, Clueless and Feelin' Good: July 18, 2001

Wednesday,
July 18, 2001

From Bad to Worse

Lyndon called this afternoon -- after farting around for lo these last three months, TBS has finally and definitely retracted any offer of a job whatsoever for him in Richardson, even though it was approved by the company board. Apparently the hiring regulations are changing on a day-by-day basis, they're still laying off people in sister departments and can't even absorb those people, so they can't do anything silly like hire him.

This is so fucking stupid, it's mindboggling. He is one of twelve or so people in the world who do his job. The person who does his job in Richardson is leaving. And yet they won't hire him. He said that the only way they'd hire him is for the market to take a sudden upswing or for everything to go completely to hell, to the point where customers like AT&T are calling for vice-presidential heads.

"The ironic thing is that I just fixed a bad problem with one of their roll-outs this morning," he said. "If I sit on my hands and do nothing, I look incompetent and they won't hire me. If I fix everything that comes through the door, everything's fine so they have no reason to hire me. Either way, I'm screwed."

Which means I have to get a job, and fast. And of course the good recruiting offer from yesterday crumbled, unsurprisingly. The weird offer is still out there, but as I said, I'm not holding my breath. The Big Wireless Telephone Company ain't talking to anyone. My contact at the Small But Growing Telecoms Company is out on vacation this week (pity nobody told me that on Monday when he was in the office).

And tomorrow, I have my follow-up interview at the national paramilitary organization. Which means it's now the only job on the table, so I have to take it if they're kind enough to offer it to me. I'll be taking a $12,000/year salary cut, I have to wear business clothes again, and I don't get medical coverage for Lyndon unless I pay extra.

But it's work, right? Besides, I'm kinda getting used to peanut butter three times a day.

I've got paper, I've a printer, I've got stories -- who could ask for anything more?

In a "what the hell" vein (well, no, it's more of a "fuck you -- I'll sell some goddamn stories, just you watch" vein), I printed out an updated version of "Star Quality" and mailed it off to Century. Hey, I already have the stamps and envelopes -- the worst they can say is no.

I'm still struggling with "Dress Rehearsal" -- for some reason, my brain just doesn't like this story and keeps sticking at weird places. I think I'll try and finish it today, but if it doesn't work, back into the trunk it goes. There are at least three other stories in the queue that need finishing and aren't as recalcitrant as this one -- I'm pretty sure I can get one of those finished and out to FutureClassics for critiquing.

In the meantime, I want to flesh out "A Conversation Among the Supreme Being" some more and get that into the mail by Friday. Desperation is a wonderful spur to production levels, yes it is.

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