meximick's Diaryland Diary ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- I haven't been up to much, really. Fuck! I just lost a bunch o' computer words I was just typing! Ok, so I have not done a thing to change my current unemployment [ed. - But, with a paycheck and a severence check coming on thursday, does this make me technically underemployed?] status since I got fired last week. I think this was actually the first time I've ever been fired. It's a little like getting dumped in that you get a "I just don't see a future in this relationship" talk, but you stop getting paid too. And it was just such a weak decision too. Granted, I probably shouldn't have confronted my direct supervisor the day before, thus necessitating another one-on-one closed door meeting later in the afternoon. An exerpt: Jeff: "Well, if you're referring to your position as "File Boy", then I really don't think that we're on the same page in terms of job responsibilities." Me: "Well Jeff, I just don't think I was prepared for 4 hours of filing on my first day. I understood I would have more responsibilities than that. We sat together and you showed me a couple of things on your computer, then you had me file for 4 hours. Isn't there some kind of list of job responsibilities I could see?" And Jeff is about 25, thin and wiry, where it doesn't look like his medium-tall shirts fit him well around the neck. He wears a gaudy metal mecklace, wholly inappropriate in a business setting, and bad gold earrings in each ear. He's the son of the law partner. He spouts corporate businesspeak like he learned his management technique by watching "Office Space", not realizing the film was a comedy. He's not smart. He is Fredo Corleone, except white trash. I heard that in addition to lawfirm duties, he also DJs, but the crappy kind of DJing of doing it at weddings, meetings, and parties. I trip him up. Jeff: [After about 20 full seconds of uncomfortable silence, which I am comfortable with] "Well, what? Do you want to stop filing for the day?" Me: "I have about 1/4 of the files you gave me left. Yes, I would like to stop filing for the day." Jeff: "I'm not sure, but I think this might be a personality conflict with me. What if one of the law partners or another supervisor asked you to file these? Would you question them?" Me: "Jeff, you're missing the point. I want my responsibilities detailed for me, that's all. If I can expect 4 hours of filing every week, then that's not really what I thought I was signing on for." Jeff: "Well then, what would you like to do?" I was astonished. I mean, Jesus! In hindsight, this next dialogue probably got me fired. Me: [astonished] "Oh, I don't know man! You're supposed to be my supervisor! You tell me!" He then gave me a menial task to learn, which I did, without complaint, for the rest of the day. The next day, his uncle, Dick, was back from vacation. There was much closed doors and pseudo-important paperwork being done. When he tapped me on the shoulder, I knew I was gone. I'd already told the Girl that if I wasn't fired, I'd quit on Friday. It was a typical, weak response. I was never asked anything, just wished good luck. I did tell Dick that his nephew, no offense, was weak as a supervisor. Not anyone I would have wanted to work for. And that I wished that I'd been treated more fairly. I think I was smiling as I walked through the office, securing a reference from another supervisor, saying goodbye to everyone. A few people didn't believe me, probably because of my smile. I've been watching more Golden Girls, Newsradio, History Channel, and GI Joe at midnight on Cartoon Newtork. Seriously though, my back has been paining me quite a lot. And I am positive that this is connected to the stress you would normally never see in my behavior. I don't know if this means I need a psychiatrist or a osteopath or an orthopedist. After I get health insurance? Fuck! My brother (a licenced health care practitioner) is sending me Celebrex, which is not a 'fun' drug, just effective in reducing inflammation. So, I'm going to the train station to meet the Girl today. She was on vacation with mother and sister in Wisconsin, and is bringing me back homemade strawberry rhubarb jelly and a copy of "The Royal Tennenbaums". Rock! And to you, M-Dawg, I would have been preferred to be called 'douchebag' as in, "Nice work, douchebag." Honestly. It's funnier. I swear. rock indeed. -M And in good news/bad news, Last night, after a few bong hits, I ended up online, at ebay. Good news, I got a copy of X-Men #7 (1963) in VF condition for about $55. That alone is worth it. Bad news, I ended up winning $100 more in other comic auctions. My severance should net me about $2Gs, plus a check from the lawfirm, so I can pay bills, but I cannot buy more of anything fun at all. 9:01 a.m. - 2002-07-16 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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