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Thoughts About Work
May. 23rd, 2008 08:41 amThere's a bus driver on the 522 line who calls out stops -- wait, no, announces stops in the cheesiest radio voice imaginable. "Santa Clara Transit Station, home to the Caltrain, Airport Shuttle, coffee shops, the 18 and 68 lines...and more!"
He was feeling in a particularly good mood today. He kept making up fake commercials for Commuter Combat, VTA Cardiovascular Service PDAs, even a couple of filk songs about the perils of riding the bus. Normally I'd be a little annoyed because, hey, I'm reading here. But it was better than Ishmael, so hooray!
I don't want to say too much about the book before I'm finishing it, but the narrator has to be one of the dumbest people ever. It's like reading an episode of Blue's Clues. I'm just waiting for the end where he has to go to his Thinking Chair to work out everything he's learned. The concepts introduced aren't new, but they are interesting and good to think about. When you get right down to it, how much do you really *need* to live?
Coming back to work this week was a mistake, I fear. I was given a talking-to by the managers about a bunch of little mistakes that have come rapid-fire in the past few weeks, and given notice that our Big Giant Head Manager is now paying close attention to the goings-on of our little department. Which normally I wouldn't mind, because I know the work I do is solid, but there have been...things which give me reason to believe I'm not getting a fair shake here.
Which leads to other things. I'm28 27 years old and I'm working as a contractor for a giant corporation. Not even a *skilled* contractor. This isn't what I want to be doing forever.
What *do* I want to do? My mind keeps coming back to books. When I get right down to it, nothing interests me quite the way books do. Working in a library or bookstore is just the thing. It's not glamorous or ambitious, but it's actively what I want.
The problem is finding work that pays well enough to survive here in the Bay area, which is a bit of a feat. I don't mind a relatively meager existence as long as I love my job. And I'm really not feeling this one.
There's also the possibility of veterinary medicine, or some kind of non-profit outfit, or finding a way to make service my work. Those would be nice too. The problem there is the same, though; good fulfilling work for me is almost never something that pays well.
Ah well. This is something I'll have to ruminate on a little bit more.
He was feeling in a particularly good mood today. He kept making up fake commercials for Commuter Combat, VTA Cardiovascular Service PDAs, even a couple of filk songs about the perils of riding the bus. Normally I'd be a little annoyed because, hey, I'm reading here. But it was better than Ishmael, so hooray!
I don't want to say too much about the book before I'm finishing it, but the narrator has to be one of the dumbest people ever. It's like reading an episode of Blue's Clues. I'm just waiting for the end where he has to go to his Thinking Chair to work out everything he's learned. The concepts introduced aren't new, but they are interesting and good to think about. When you get right down to it, how much do you really *need* to live?
Coming back to work this week was a mistake, I fear. I was given a talking-to by the managers about a bunch of little mistakes that have come rapid-fire in the past few weeks, and given notice that our Big Giant Head Manager is now paying close attention to the goings-on of our little department. Which normally I wouldn't mind, because I know the work I do is solid, but there have been...things which give me reason to believe I'm not getting a fair shake here.
Which leads to other things. I'm
What *do* I want to do? My mind keeps coming back to books. When I get right down to it, nothing interests me quite the way books do. Working in a library or bookstore is just the thing. It's not glamorous or ambitious, but it's actively what I want.
The problem is finding work that pays well enough to survive here in the Bay area, which is a bit of a feat. I don't mind a relatively meager existence as long as I love my job. And I'm really not feeling this one.
There's also the possibility of veterinary medicine, or some kind of non-profit outfit, or finding a way to make service my work. Those would be nice too. The problem there is the same, though; good fulfilling work for me is almost never something that pays well.
Ah well. This is something I'll have to ruminate on a little bit more.
