Time Travelers

Time Travelers of Oregon showed up on my credit card statement for a supposed transaction on June 14, and my first (completely logical) thought was as follows: Wow, in the future, time traveling will be a popular pastime, so popular that each region will have their own Time Travelers club! And the Oregon branch of the Time Travelers has stolen my identity and is paying $24 worth of club expenses with my account! 

Then I looked at my calendar to see if I would remember what I bought that day, but I mixed up the numbers and thought the transaction was from the 24th and was like HOLY SHIT the time travelers spent my money in the future! but then I remembered I shouldn't be that impressed because they're time travelers and also I went antiquing that day but that was NOT the name on the building.

Gifts from my Neighbor

Items my upstairs neighbor has left me on my patio and in my vegetable garden over the course of our time together:

• 17 beer cans
• 2 cigarette cartons
• 4 tennis balls
• 5 dog bones
• 2 tennis balls
• water from 1 overturned dog bowl, 2 feet from my head
• 1 used disposable glove
• white paint splatters that have made "bird poop chic" a permanent part of my patio aesthetic
• 2 rotting limes
• 2 plastic bags
• 1 half-full can of spray paint
• 1 mechanical pencil
• 52 cigarette butts
• 1.5 peanut shells
• 1 half eaten orange
• orange peels
• various plastic bits
• constant sense of dread

Goodbye and good luck, the slum.

Hitler in the Kitchen

I decided to read this book about Hitler and it turned out to be a million pages, so I was making very slow progress. Meanwhile this huge hardback has just been sitting at my table, keeping me company. I started talking to Hitler instead of my plants: What should we have for dinner, Hitler? I've been using Hitler as a computer riser when I have an interview, and he does a great job. Hitler's a real pal.

The inside of the book is pretty good, too. I'm still at the beginning part where Hitler is just a nobody and I don't think I'm supposed to feel inspired by it? I mean he was really floundering there for awhile. 

Hitler went back to the library today and I'm really gonna miss that guy. We spent 6 renewals together, which is something like 21 weeks. I only made it to page 61 of 2,937,533, but maybe that's for the best.

How the Job Search Is Going

My job search so far:

• One recruiter sent a message to all applicants, exposing our competition's identities and contact information to each other.
• A temp agency that used to call me with jobs called me with candidates instead. I feel like I'm moving up in the world. Also, if I need to fall back on them for work, I already know who my competition is.
• 90% of recruiters ghosted me, one after four interviews, including a case study that I spent hours preparing for.
• "When you start you'll just be putting out fires." Points for honesty?
• One interviewer told me I would actually be logging in to Salesforce and sharing my screen and that the interview would be recorded. The amount of notice I had about these details: None.
• One interviewer did not say words. I wasn't sure if he wanted me to conduct the interview or what. I inexplicably tortured myself with a second interview with him, during which he was again mysteriously mute unless he was giving a one-word answer to the questions I felt compelled to fill the silence with.

To be fair:

• I told one interviewer I don't like their products.
• I may have been kinda high during a morning interview.
• I joined a Zoom interview with a giant pair of underwear as my background.

Working at Sea

I got tired of interviewing for good jobs so I started looking at crap jobs instead. I clicked on an ad for being a seafood processor at sea and OH MY GOD did I go down a rabbit trail. Sixteen hour days, seven days a week. So you get eight hours to sleep which is probably fine since you probably just fall asleep immediately. 

I wasn't done yet -- I checked out the other jobs on the ships and thought Housekeeper, that's got to be easier. But it turns out they work sixteen-hour shifts too. How about Data Manager, surely that's gotta be -- nope, they work sixteen hours too! How much Data is there to Manage?! And not only that, they are also responsible for providing medical assistance to injured and ill crew members! I think they are going to be bad at one of those tasks and I hope it's not the medical assistance!

The contracts are all 65 days, I assume because that's as long as human beings can stand to live in a constant fish-scented manual labor trapped-at-sea environment with no weekends or free time whatsoever. Instead of clicking away at that point, I was doing the math and trying to figure out the pay, which varies a lot based on whether you're at the low or high end of the range. Either way: Not. Worth. It. They have a statement about equal opportunity for women and it also says you're living in close quarters and sharing bathrooms and stuff and, I don't know, I just don't think they're set up for women.

I suddenly feel a lot better about being merely unemployed.

Hairy Sexy Winter Sunday

I decided not to shave my legs for the entirety of covid winter, and I was looking forward to a break from the burden of shaving, but, surprisingly, I miss it. Unfortunately, now it's, uh... past the point of no return. A full wax in spring is going to be my only path back from werewolfery.

Previously, my no-shave record was about three weeks, but I have entered a new world altogether. It now hurts to wear leggings just like it hurts to wear a ponytail all day. Also, when I walk through my house with no pants, I can feel the whoosh of air blowing through my leg hairs, in a way that would feel glamorous if they weren't my leg hairs. It's disturbing. No one tells you these things.

I fully intended to keep this experiment contained to the leg area, but then I missed a couple days of armpits and, well, at that point I figured I may as well go all in. This is even worse than the legs, somehow. Putting on deodorant is a nightmare and it's not even grown all the way out yet.

Unrelatedly, I recently declared a weekly Sexy Sunday, on which I must wear a matching bra and panty, just to make sure covid winter doesn't render me a complete slob. (I may have worn crotchless panties to the grocery store.) The only problem with Sexy Sunday is how perfectly it overlaps with Hairy Covid Winter. Sorry for that visual.

This is really doing a lot for my suicidal ideation, though, since I definitely don't want to die right now and have my body be found like this.

Have a Great Day

Do you want to have a great day? Eat a bite of pomegranate seeds. Just pomegranate seeds. Don't put them on a salad. Don't eat them one by one when they drop on the floor because five second rule. You need a whole, luxurious mouthful. I know it seems extravagant because that pomegranate cost you $2.50, but do you want to have a great day or not? I discovered this on accident and it is totally worth the two dollars and fifty cents and twenty minutes you spend getting the seeds out in the first place.

Eat them in a bowl with a spoon, like diamonds. I mean cereal. No, don't put milk on them! I mean like pomegranate seeds. Eat them like pomegranate seeds, because this is your new thing now. You can thank me later.

Remember Gushers fruit snacks? This is the adult version of that. Get ready to experience a glorious chorus of bells ringing hallelujah in your mouth. Prepare yourself for Pop-Its exploding all through you, with pure joy instead of silver fulminate. Also we're eight months into this pandemic, so it's possible I just forgot what fun is.