In which a list format shall suffice.

1. I’ve decided to see Amma in Dallas this year.

I chose Dallas on NLW’s recommendation because I’ve never been to Dallas, and the programs are allegedly smaller and more intimate than those in Chicago. Don’t want to go to Iowa and be divided; when we go there it will be specifically to hang in Fairfield and see everybody.

2. I do not have hamthrax.

…YET.

The aporkalypse/baconic plague/epigdemic won’t actually get here until the migrant workers show up for spring planting, so if you love me you should send me gifts NOW as my time left on earth is undoubtedly quite short!

3. Got laid! Quite fantastically well, thank you.

OMG. You have no idea. I’m so spoiled.

4. I have three in-progress swaps going with people I’ve met on Flickr.

I’m trading an Argus, a tele lens, and two rolls of film for a Polaroid SX-70 and two C4 lenses. I’m making a pair of slippers in return for a custom bag and some random surprise stuff. And I’m sending cheese to Japan in exchange for moar bento stuff.

VERY exciting!

5. Goblinbox still gets massive traffic, but hardly anyone ever comments any more.

I’ve been waiting to post because I was hoping I’d get more than one comment on my last post. (Thank you, Shenry.) Does this mean my content’s as boring as I think it is?

Don’t answer that.

Maybe I should have another surgery or get divorced again or something. How about a car wreck? Suggestions? Shall I describe what Teh BF can do with his left hand?

6. I love payday.

I was down to fewer than ten bucks when my check arrived. I have no idea what I spent all my money on, but it couldn’t be classic cameras and classic camera accessories or film or developing so don’t even bring it up.

7. This chilly, crappy weather has me afraid that we’re going to go straight from 50 degrees to 110 degrees overnight, and that the summer will be unbearable.

The whole point of living here – besides the awesome Mexican food, of course – is the mild weather. I want my money back!

8. Being 40 sucks.

It doesn’t matter what I do, I’m just getting thicker Every. Single. Goddamned. Day. I look like I’m three months along and I have BACK FAT, and I’m actually consciously NOT overeating and I’m walking to work every single day.

Diet and exercise my ass: they mean Nazi self-discipline. I’m sick of being pudgy, yeah, but not enough to deny myself everything I enjoy. This is exactly what Cosmo was talking about.

9. My dentist is too expensive.

I need to go in for prophy again – my mouth is like a coral reef, swear to God – but I still owe the bastard five or six hundred bucks. So I’m not going. Which will only hurt me in the long run, but I go every three months and can’t get it paid off before my next appointment so the balance keeps growing.

Plus I have some soft spots on a molar that apparently need to be filled before they turn into cavities and they nag me about that.

Any locals have a CHEAP dentist?

I totally would get my teeth bleached if I could afford it. Is that vain?

10. In spite of reassurances, I still feel shaky about my job security.

Customer and incoming call counts are dropping weekly. I know enough about business in general to be certain there’s no way the company I work for is bringing in enough to pay its bills.

I’d go into detail, but a couple members of management read my blog and follow my tweets, so they know absolutely everything I ever say about work (which is why I say nothing that isn’t utterly innocuous). The general manager actually IMed me one day after reading a post I’d written to tell me that my job wasn’t actually in any immediate danger, which was really sweet, but I can still do basic math.

This week, we were told that we’re only on the phones on average of two hours a day, and that we need to be documenting what we’re doing the rest of the time. A list of free time activities were provided by my department head, but hello? I already do all of those things and there still isn’t enough work (because yes, I’m that overachieving bitch of an employee you hate who does more than strictly necessary and still has time to surf half the entire ‘net every day).

My hope is that when air conditioning season arrives my work load will return to normal, but I ain’t holding my breath. The load has been dropping smoothly since I started here eighteen months ago, as evidenced by my schedule: I was hired to close, so when I started I worked 12-9. Less than a year later they moved me to an 11-8 schedule because there weren’t enough calls, and just this week I’ve been moved again, this time t 10-7. Last night I took maybe three calls from six to seven. Hello, recession!

It’s not like this is a ‘real’ job, in the sense that I don’t make any money, don’t have a title, manage no one, and am basically being a lazy toad so I don’t have to get up early, shave my legs, or wear uncomfortable shoes. You’d think by now I’d have a career but noo-o-o-o: I decided to get married and drop to part-time so I could WASH SOME GUY’S FUCKING SOCKS and like an idiot I never got any certifications back when someone else would probably have paid for them, so the odds of my ever becoming an Internet engineer again are, like, zip… especially here. (This company isn’t an ISP, it’s a reseller. The “vault” here is basically empty.)

The point being that if I wanted to do a lateral transfer, I might as well just stay here until the business either fails or doesn’t and quit fucking worrying about it.