A Mistake

As I apply for the umpteenth mcjob. As I send out countless digital resumes, I realized, once again, I made a terrible mistake.

Now,I am not one for great regret, but the other day, waiting for a meeting to determine my future among the "not-a-living-wage" type jobs, I found a book on tackling the"Brick Wall" of a tight, hyper-competative job market. 

This book starts, with all, to find a direction. You have to know what you want. It asks that we perform an exercise called the Seven Stories. The premise is simple: write down 20 to 25 enjoyable accomplishments. Look back into childhood,  in young adulthood, hobbies and in jobs  orcareers you have held.

I did my list on the back of the folded piece of paper I snagged; some expired advertisement for well-passed Employment Fairs. When I have a phone, or camera, or scanner, I can prove it. Imagine a scribbled note here:

Editors Note: Scribbly Note goes here. Use your imagination.

Some items that were on the list were: Piggy Pirates, A relationship that helped me learn about relationships, myself, and people, My brief stint with chain mail, Several stories I wrote in college and my work in  400 University Drive and the Ubiquitous. A portrait of Ian Anderson that caused my father to not have a critical remark. Tutoring adults and children in several subjects and having them do well.

I want you to note something - something immediately apparent. Not a single accomplishment was related to IT, Technical Support, or call center work.  I am reminded of 2001 when I had the option
to intern with an Art Instructor. Since I could not ratiocinate both work and the instruction with respect to time, I gave up on the internship, because you've got to work to eat.

The mistake has always been my inability to sacrifice a job for a career.  I always chose the job: A small piddly, temporary thing over the work of a career: a long course. My head wa snever one for computers. I can work with computers, I understand their value,  but I found them incredibly tedious to work with. Had I been able to find them even a bit interesting, perhaps I would have tried harder. But the work with them was about as interesting, and important to me, as one might feel working at Mcdonalds.  And whilst working these jobs, I did not work on my talents/


 When you have gifts, you must work in the direction to increase efficacy. If you have talent for something, it would be foolish to let it whither.

And I am not saying I am special (not in this post, anyway). I think we all have talents and I think most of us give up on using them. I want to say it's circumstances that lead us to this, but that's only half of it.  Circumstances, internal and external can only become so obnoxious before your will is thwarted.

Mastering a skill boils down to desire overcoming obstacles.  And success, and expertise, is simply displaying mastery in a skill. Your upbringing and genetics make it somewhat more easy to walk some paths than others. We call these talents.
 
When I was offered opportunities to master skills in my life, to test skills, I tended to withdraw. And this was my mistake. I was not prescient enough to realize the existential pain of regret would be far worse than the difficulty at the time.

I don't know if GenY has this problem. Do you? There seems a certainty among others that I never felt. Better parenting, better schools? Better information? The Internet has done wonders to help our self-esteem, and (destroy it).

All I can say, is, in wisdom borne from foolish mistakes plus years of making the same mistakes, is that if you have a passion, do make time to work on them. Work on them intensely, passionately, and consistently.

More on Metrics.

Editor's Note:** According to our metrics, your donation makes increases beatings of the author by 21%. this, in turn, leads a 7% increase in writing quality and quantity. Your donations matter. 


I realized, as I worked on this post, about Comcast, I have a lot to say about metrics. A whole lot. It's not an easy subject, and the corporate world loves metrics. Every middle manager in the country becomes flush at the sight of a report detailing the After Call Percent, the Labor Percent, and the time in queue. They are positively froth at the notion.

Now, I am going to upset a lot of people. Maybe I won't come off as an expert. I have a lot of experience with metrics. And before you say that studies show that metrics are the best performance measures we have, remember that whenever you say "best" you have to ask, for whom.

Metrics, in a lot of ways, are a justification. No company likes it's technical support division. This love-child of rapidly growing tech, coupled with furtive and error-prone tech, is a sinkhole for company money. I'd bet that half of R&D is basically just "make it less error prone."  It's certainly cheaper.

But as technology increased, Tech Support became the second sales associate. We were the soft sell. "Hey, thanks for buying out product. All technology, even that car, has issues. We know that it's inconvenient when it doesn't work, let's get it working right for you."

The flip side - it's a sinkhole for companies to offer free support. They'd charge but most customers suffer a disconnect - they see a technician fiddle some buttons and then the computer works. The technological "wizardry" is largely subtle. When you take your car in for  a repaire, they lift it up on blocks, pull out parts. It looks like work. It's easy to understand as actual skill.  When a technician rapidly scrolls through text, presses a few buttons, reboots your computer, there doesn't seem to be any substance.

So the company wants a profit on a department and the customer doesn't want to pay for what looks like crystal waving hoodoo. But tech support needs to exist.


So Technical support managers use metrics because to the executives, who care only for the bottom line and who listen only to bean-counters, need, desperately need, to know why this red mark exists in the the ledger of their exchequer. They see this entire department that has no income and they can seem to justify it.

I don't understand why. They happily understand exchange of money for goods, at least - they ought. Unless, they don't. When they take their ski trips, do they not pay people for food? For shelter? Why do they think the $30 dollar bottle of hair product is worth it? I mean, their computers need fixing too. I get frustrated that I have to buy cleaning supplies, but after living in some lichen-coated ogre-caves in my past, I wouldn't be caught dead without at least a bottle of bleach. .

Metrics, in this case, justify something that ought need no justification. Tech Support is the second customer service. Once the item has been sold, follow-up falls, mostly, on service. If service is handcuffed to metrics, or poorly staffed, or poorly paid, you lose your ability to create meaningful and important customer experience. Yes, you will have a trickle of naive and bright-eyed techs who will begin the job with open-hearts. But your system will turn them into cowering, mumbling misanthropes in six months. And then, you'll need a retention team.

My point is exactly this: Metrics should never cost the customer experience. The customer experience needs to be managed. If you manage the customer they will have a bad experience.

Truth is, metrics are not all bad. On the contrary, someone I admire, Jon Taffer, uses a type of metric called analytics. He touts the "science of the bar business." He uses these metrics to aid the bar in increasing profit. But bars make money by improving and lengthening the positive customer experience. It's may sometimes come off as if you your chairs are 5 cm higher then profits increase 10%, but only because on TV, they edit and use shorthand. Bars make money on happy, well-served, pleasantly-buzzed-and-entertained customers. If a metric increases short-term profit for a bar at the cost of long term customers - then it isn't used.

Growth under the current system that puts profit first will fall. Profit is important, despite my difficulty understanding work, I can understand profit.

Good service, a good product, and good follow-up, is not a detriment to service. You don't make profit and then, as an afterthought, offer a good experience, or an experience.  You don't begrudgingly slough off to work, petulant and angry like a spoiled child, (or yours truly). You don't try to mitigate it as a "unfortunate and unintended consequence."

You offer a service and a good experience, and, in trade, you are provided other services or goods, or the shorthand, money.

Imagine! Imagine the bar that, as a a consequence, has nice lighting and a dance floor. "What do you mean, we have to have good liquor and clean bars? I just want to sell drinks!" or  a Pizza place? "Quality ingredients? Psh! Just sell them them ground up cardstock!*" How many people would be impressed by an executive with unwashed hair and a ratty suit? 

And, as  customers go elsewhere (assuming they can - Telecoms have the system locked up). You are left with needing "Retention specialists", basically glorified beggars and strong-arm experts who's sole purpose is to keep your unhappy customers on the hook.  You are no better than some back alley clip joint.

If you need metrics to justify your position, you haven't adequately managed your value. And if you need, god help you, an extortionist in "retention." then you aren't providing a service worth retaining.



* I am talking to you Pizza Hut.  Little Caesar's tastes better. And it's cheaper. You should be ashamed. 

** It's just me, but I put on a spiffy bowler and a monocle.

Application to play Sysiphus

Editors Note: Trying a new thing. All instances of swear words have been replaced with other words. The author is woefully unaware of our trick. Let us know if you it.

I don't know how many of you are on the hunt for a job. I'll say I am, but the truth is I am half-heartedly engaged in the process. It's not that I don't want to work, it's just that I don't really want a job.  If I, or anyone, is required to perform such a job, perhaps there should be some recompense in less hours?  I mean, robots can do our work anyway. 

Recently I got the chance to speak to my friend Linda, who is about my fathers age, about work. Labor. Her generation, and therefore my fathers, prided themselves on work. A good job, in a factory, marked your status in the community.

Even Norman Rockwell would find this quaint. A modern jaded hipster would find this the worst, hopeless conceit of a poor imagination. Not because we are afraid of work, but because the stable jobs are all low-wage unlivable jobs or high-stress paperwork jobs. Go on, read about the twenty hours staring at excel.

The truth is, the economy is sideways. The black-and-white Calvinistic, Austrian model of economics hasn't just been turned on it's ear, it's been kidnapped, gagged, and forced to inform people by the use of hoots, grunts, and interpretive dance.

Face it, the rules that applied back then simply don't anymore. Not in any meaningful way. Our parents, leaders, and corporate elite  haven't informed us that the rules have changed. Partially from ignorance.   But also, out of malice.

Job applications have certainly not changed for the better. They are, in all honestly, a hopeless  bureaucracy,designed to inhibit, deter and prevent you from getting a job.

In my father's day, you could walk in, ask for a job, and get one, or told to get lost. And, if so rebuffed,  you'd head down one door.  "Hitting the pavement" was the euphemism for what you actually did.   Now you apply on  for Internet websites, press submit. Answer 400 questions about your personality. And though there are no right answers, clearly I answer them wrong because I never get a call back. i just send my application into the either.

And call on an application? They don't really do that anymore. They will call you.

Sure they will. 

The worst so far, Qdoba. Do you really need to ask 300 questions. I go to Qdoba frequently, and the biggest question I have is: Can you find someone who can actually roll a borking burrito? fire the people who make those long personality tests, use that money to bus your burrito rollers to La Bamba for a day.

McDonald's was only slightly less aggravating. They ask a series of questions and you choose the question that most reflects your views. These are the same questions.  For example

"I am a hard worker" vs "I like to watch butterflies fly into my bosses nose." 

"OK" I clicked the former - though my boss has nose hairs you could land Apache gunships on.

"I am a lazy good-for-nothing slacker"  vs  "I eat baby dolphins because I hate life."

So now what?  Do I contradict myself or do I make Jack-the-ripper look like a children's educator?
Sure, it's a bit of hyperbole, but it still aggravates me. What does any of this have to do with pressing burgers and dropping fries in hot oil? 

I'll tell you what, I ain't no slacker. Baby dolphins be damned. 



Sparkfire kindly posted this  graphic. I know it's bogus  when it talks about farmers. "No Job Hunt. No Career improvement."


Nonsense. Farmer is one of the most important jobs. The plight of the farmer was not one of improvement, it was about the poor economic and political policies. Yes, being a feudal serf might have sucked. But barring disaster, a skilled farmer lived quite a good life in the US.

And besides, in this hyper-corporate project-based, intern-serfdom world. Maybe a stable job with consistent pay is just the thing we need. 

I tell you Zach Weiner is positively prophetic. I suspect he has a lot of Millennial friends less-than-employed. 

We are reaching the existential crisis of the Job Market.  On one hand, we have a a bunch of slack-jawed sociopaths babbling about "returns on investments", "10 percent improvement in process efficacy" and "item action productivity", on the other, we have an overabundance labor jobs (replaced by automation) and service jobs "not meant to be a living wage." On the third, yes, third hand, we have an ever-swelling, leviathan-like government bureaucracy that exists to leech off the low- and moderately-waged and make serfs of those at the bottom. And the fourth hand we have people who, by virtue of illness, disability, or plain orn'riness, refuse to have anything to do with this nonsense.

Yes, the current job market is basically a 4-armed tentacled monster. In my nightmares it has Newt Gingrich and Barack Obama's face, melded like a sick love child.

And it's not like the basic rules have changed. So why the horse and pony show? 

The massive tentacled beast destroying or economic possibilities does have some vestigial arms - farmers (often automated), medical technicians (rapidly becoming educated button mashers), the arts. Things that were, or are, still valued for producing. But the system doesn't like those arms. Bankers making money on bailouts hate to hear that maybe the guy that grows pumpkins is doing more for the country. At least the farmer isn't giving money to people who hate the US. 

At least you can become a plumber or tradesman, with years of schooling and byzantine apprenticeships.

The markets are being made to keep people out.

But that's another blog post (or two, if I talk about neo-cottage revolutions). I'm losing my point today. Forgive me.

If you are, or were, looking for a job in an old way, you are right-borked. Unless you know somebody. And I am not even kidding. 

That McDonald's job? I have applied at McDonald's before. That specific McDonald's, for a soul-sucking mcjob that I can work around my desire to not actually do that job. Something that lets me pretend that I will be an artist some day.

They have ignored my application, but a caseworker of mine works with  and knows the manager there. And he says he will hook me up.

Networking required for a "not a livable wage" job. This is madness. Absolute madness. Regulation and litigation have made companies terrified of just giving a job.

If I weren't already a little on the batshit side, this would be enough to make me so. 

If you can't talk to people and hob knob, you might as well enjoy mopping floors. It's not like starting a business is much an option. Even in the blog post above, he needed way more money than he new. if you are in poverty, how are you going to manage that?

Remember when we were told to get a good job and not to be an artist? Remember that? I sure as hell do.

That was before Patreon and Kickstarter made fools of all of us, except the damn fools that followed their dreams. It's a new world, and prescient as I might have been, I was sure dumb on that account.  

Jobs don't work.

Marco's update: Apparently my legend grows, even those who loathed me (except for the antagonist) say they miss me. I am touched by the sentiment, but sadly sentiment doesn't pay the rent(iment). I am still planning a crowd funding and to add a donation/buy stuff button as soon as I can figure out a product or service other than "miserably bad advice", "swear word portmanteaus", and "anti-corporate screeds."  Hell, I bet I could raise about 50 dollars just for the service of "shutting my mouth." 

I looked back at my work experience, and I have settled all previous jobs into two categories: "Useless Insanity" and "Unskilled Idiocy." I imagine that I am not the only person to categorize so, nor the first to realize the futility of work. My talent for miscreance, and the words of Michael Ventura, Alan Watts (or read the transcript) ,and Harlan Ellison have left me bereft of job morale.

Why, in that video by Alan Watts, he echoes my sentiment - or perhaps I echo his:

But if you do a job, if you do a job with the sole purpose of making money, you are absurd.

He suggests that when we do so, we begin to equate money with happiness. I can't argue, or won't, rather. I don't want utilize my talent for opposition today

My work has been as absurd as Alan Watts suggests. I was taught, rather harshly, that I must have a job. That my talents were not in fast food or factory, that I have a natural savant-like idiocy when it comes to schedules, rules, and policies. A trained monkey with a severe bleeding head injury can follow rules that I find as alien and incomprehensible as Martian mating rituals.

Actually, given my lewdness, I suspect extraterrestrial sex makes more sense to me. 

I was raised to work jobs. I had to have a job, according to my father. I don't blame my father completely. His father was raised on German work ethic and an industrial-revolution perspective of the world. My father would pull apart guns at age six and draw each part, then put them back together flawlessly. And when he performed this miracle, his father and mother told him that it was "nice" , but he ought get a job in a factory.

Lamentable. If a child showed such precociousness today, his parents would encourage him to study math and become an engineer.

My father said the same thing, like a mantra. You have to have a job. You have to have a job. You have to have a job.

And so I spent much of my time working as call center tech support, my stock and "trade". This trade constitutes being yelled at, screeched at, cried at,  for 40 hours a week, but for the blissful two hours a month when we were  droned at or yelled by our manager about our metrics.

No call center I worked for scored me on customer satisfaction. On the contrary, they scored me negatively if I spent the time to actually help the customer.   I was told at TDS Telecom that despite having more "Kudos" (compliments from customers) than other technicians, if I didn't lower my call times I would be fired.

Let that ruminate in your head. A kudos required extra work from the customer, and generally meant they were satisfied beyond mere resolution. TDS threatened to terminate me for helping customers. 


But that doesn't matter. What matters is call times. If your call takes longer than 6 minutes, you are doing your job wrong. Hang up on the customer - so long as they don't call back - and the managers are happy. Avoid helping the customer and - so long as the customer doesn't complain - call centers are happy. 

And if we are being honest, companies placed "First Call Resolution" as a metric only because agents hung up on customers to meet call length metrics.It's hard to fix someone's error in six minutes when you spend two of those minutes gathering required information and another two trying get them to find the start button.

Absurd, absurd, absurd.  Insanity. Put together unreasonable expectations and then get angry when people cannot meet them. That is the nature of corporate jobs.

I don't have a particularly good answer - I have some, but that will have to wait for another blog post.

If you want to read more, or see videos of these screeds, don't be afraid to subscribe, share on Facebook, on Twitter, or +1 on Google.


Marco's update part II: As I typed this, a  coworker texted me that the blow-job-enjoying manager told the antagonistic coworker to eat a bag of dicks as well. But he did it when they were punched out (and away from the eyes of corporate). Marco's me fired for breaking the illusion of cog-like perfection and order Frank -er, my manager, had cultivated. 
Don't send them hate mail. Send me 5 dollar donation I receive I will mail them a drawing of a bag of dicks. A dollar donation means I'll spent more than 30 seconds proofreading.Or, actually proofread.

All the world's a stage, yadda yadda yadda.

I love misfits. I admit it. I love people who just don't seem to fit. My favorite fiction, "'Repent Harlequin!' Said the Ticktockman." is the story of a misfit. Everette C, Marm, who "wasn't much to begin with, except a man who had no sense of time."  In a world where being on time is the most important of values, he simply had no ability to do so. He couldn't fit in.

I wonder when he stopped trying? What day did he become the Harlequin?

I hero-worship misfits. I can't help it. All my heroes, all the stories I adore, are stories of misfits. Ellison, O'Conner, Butcher, Martin. I identify with them because I am a misfit. I can't keep my trap shut. I cannot be anything but what I am. I am a loudmouth, a snarker, and a clown.

I am not much to begin with, except a man who has no sense of propriety. And we live in a world that values decorum over morality. You can be a scumbag as long as you are polite about it. 

Yesterday during group therapy we read about activities to distract from emotional distress. The last line was "Sex; put a rubber band around your wrist, pull it out, and let it go."

Dear Kittens, when presented with something like this, what am I to do? When the universe gives you a gem like this, who am I say to no? Simon Peter spoke with the Holy Spirit to Jesus, right?

"Sounds exactly like my sex life."

Everybody laughed. I mean the kind of laughing, guffawing, and giggling that comes from releasing pent up energy. Therapy was derailed. Luckily, we neared the end of our session.  

The problem is twofold, my dear kittens. Chiefly, I am rewarded. When I mouth off I get laughter and I get likes and I get attention. Like a comic I get approbation from the audience. I have a reputation for being a funny guy. An amateur - very amateur -Patton Oswald. Which therein lies the second problem: I seem to believe I am always on stage - always entertaining. And it's not particularly exhausting to entertain all the time. But it is dangerous. Talking about telling someone to eat a bag of dicks is all well and good. And telling the story entertains - on stage or in a small group. And certainly all my coworkers were overjoyed that I told off the nagging bitchy shrew.

Seriously, she needed to eat a bag of dicks and shut her pieholster.  

But work is not a stage, and insults, however just and however warranted, are not tolerated in this "PC Bullshit" world. No matter how often we talked that way as a crew, no matter that a manager was blown by a subordinate and another manager sent dick pics to six subordinates without punishment until Marco's was threatened with a lawsuit.

So once again I find myself on the receiving end of a Pink Slip. I have a Kickstarter as soon as Amazon payments goes through.  We'll see what I can do from there. I've been on stage a long time, maybe it's time to pass the hat.  

The Paradox of Wages (Walmart and Middle Class)

Hello, Friends!

I promised that I would write more polemics in the vernacular to which I am accustomed . Currently my job at The Mineshaft has me on an incredibly tight schedule. So expect at least one post a week.

Last week  I posted a maudlin mopey post. Don't read it, kiddos. I reeled on painkillers and bad training. My hands slapped, my ego bruised, and my morale spinning in the can from training. Made more in tips than my bitch of a trainer. That may be why she was so pissy.

I read this post the other day about raising the minimum wage. The argument from both sides can be summed up thus (Paraphrase):

Pro-wage-hike: More disposable income means more money to spend and more money through the sluices!
Anti-wage-hike: Suck my fat capitalist dick.

OK, that's not actually how the conversation goes. The wage hike supporters (towards which I lean) basically lean on one argument with two premises. More money in the hands of the average spender means more money over all, and it won't cost that much to raise wages.

This is common sense - a man (or woman) can only enjoy so many yachts, have so many parties, and so many "escorts". Eventually the amount they can spend dries up. Mostly   Jesus. How many zeros?*

This is true of the commoner too. I can only spend so much on blow before I have to slow down, take a pill (a different pill) chillax and let my heart rate get below 200.

But, I need to point out, there are a lot more of us, the commoner, than them, the wealthy. And those parties may benefit a few people. Maybe they have a hundred or a thousand servants, but that money doesn't go through he sluices as nicely as giving everybody working for large corporations a fat check.

I am not completely on board with government mandated wage increases. I am a friendly anarcho-moderate, and while the government has done some good things, a cumbersome juggernaut is she. So I am always cautious with regards to it's movements. But what else can we do? The corporations will be dickbags. Not even good business men, but actual shortsighted cuntnuggets.

I hate when we have to make laws to protect people from Dickbags, but see below.

Anti-wagers contend that this will cause businesses to offer less jobs, and fire people and generally continue to fuck up the economy like giant dickbags.  Truth is that most of the huge corporations could probably handled the loss in income. It's not that much. Sell a yacht or two.

This PDF happily explains what would happen with an increase to $12 an hour. Dick-all, really. Big corporations like Walmart and Target would not feel much of a pinch, nor would the consumer.
If wages increased 6 grand a year, but costs go up 1500 smackers similarly, that means the average consumer makes out to the tune of $4500 dollars a year.

Not too shabby. And according to these leftist folks there will be no affects on business. They also suggest rose-colored glasses, because they seem to forget the rule of business 101*.

BUT, my dear readers, this is all from progressive (pinko-commie) writers. Surely the conservative view can give us the "fair and balanced" style you expect from me.  So I did some research.

They say: Fuck you, worker. Dance for your dimes!
The third article above discusses it.
Some fuckwit named Mark Wilson  says that "fringe benefits" might be curtailed by a raised wage.

To him I ask: "What "fringe benefits?" Like, what benefits would be taken from someone? Insurance? Not fringe. Half-off burgers? Not a big deal for my last job. And most box stores don't give you that much of a discount.

Let's say Walmart gives you 10% off your own purchases. In order for you to make out the same as a wage hike (that hypothetical 4500 bucks) you'd need to spend 45 thousand dollars there in a year (while making, for those bad at math, an average wage of 15-20 grand a year). . At the Mineshaft I'd have to eat there for 1500 meals a year.

No wonder poor people have bad credit and are obese. Look how we have to spend and eat to take advantage of our fringe benefits.

Yeah, OK. keep your 25 dollar gas cards at Christmas, you petty jizzstains, I'll take the raise, thank you very much.

Math, Mr. Wilson. Either you do math or you fucking don't.**
I mean, are you fucking serious?

I can almost  -almost see the argument that Smaller businesses may have to fire employees. Well, most of them pay a little better than minimum, and can be more choosy. I agree that a higher wage will make better employees think about taking the job. God knows that some of my employers could have done better picking anyone else and paying them more.

Regarding the argument that these are "not meant to sustain a living wage." Newsflash, dickweasel, they are.  I never planned to be a cuss-spitting gonzo commentator, but there you fucking go. I never wanted to be on the side of more laws. I am. They are. The middle class isn't moving up. Old folks are staying in their jobs longer. So where's a poor dickhead kid gonna go?

Nowhere. We are going nowhere.

And finally, let's look at the free market. "Let the free market handle wages." Yeah. Let's Fucking Do That. Except that it's cheaper to buy a politician than produce a better product. Can't compete? Have Uncle Sam wag their finger at your opponent.

And don't get me started on cheap entertainment and expensive consumable goods. Christ. That's a great way to keep us down.

It's all shit, my friends. The song and dance of Walmart is just a mummer's show. They are spending more than they pay out to keep wages right where they are.

The rich are in bed with civil servants. Democracy is dead to the almighty dolla'. It's just aristocrats partying on top.

Do your best. And if you are one of those rich fucks at the top, remember, many of you didn't get there by yourself. You worked, sure, but you also had help. Mentors, friends, lucky breaks that made your work worthwhile.  Remember that. Mentor and befriend, and occasionally give in on fiscal policy.

Because as the French Nobility learned, it's awful hard to spend your money when you're dead.


* Dickbaggery.
** Yes, those numbers may be massaged.

Racing Rats Should Leave a Sinking Ship

Well, kitlin's. good news, for once.This is the best time to start self-improvement. I'm not going to be throwing a lot of links at you today. It's mostly just opinion. But I think young people have a real opportunity. And old people. You know, 30-year-olds.

I'm especially talking to 30 year-olds. Listen up. This is where many of us are. Retirees couldn't retire, so they took the jobs we would have. And then the young took some of them, too.  Unemployment is still too damn high. Sure, things are turning around. But we are still working shitty jobs.

The jobs available to most of us are shitty retail jobs. The kind of job that you used to get through college. The kind of job that you were suppose to go to college to avoid.

I am a rambling man, it seems. My editor, Sir Huffinpuff McSockSocks has pawed angrily at me as if to say "get to the goddamn point." So here it is.

5 reasons a downturned economy is AWESOME for Self-Improvement.

1) Adversity breeds creativity.
This is becoming an old rag, but I want to say it. Creativity is strengthened with a little adversity. true, disasters and soul-crushing ennui don't help much. But when pressed gently, by deadlines, by limited funds. And in solving these problems, you become stronger, and better. A perfect example is an old friend Greg. He had a problem reading (dyslexia, to be specific). To solve this, he learned to not see letters, but word shapes. Honestly, having never had a problem reading, I can only vaguely understand it. Suffice to say he realized that word shape, even reversed, can tell you a lot about the word. And so he's now one of the fastest readers I know, with better retention.

Also, Star Wars. (Is that a Law yet? Any internet argument of sufficient length will reference Star Wars? Can that be Ungart's Law?**). Due to the constraints placed on technology, the writing, drama, and characterization of the first 3 movies is vastly superior.
Gym membership is 10-30 dollars a month. Or you can use Youtube to make your own DIY gym. I'll send you pics as soon as I can get a hold of a camera. So far I have an entire gym, and I have spent about 3 months of memberships for it. And it's a lot more fun than grunting around meatheads.

2) No one holds your time but you.
Sure, your boss at the Stop-n-gulp may ask you take an extra shift 'cause Jenny decided to take off to go see the newest, coolest band. (that bitch!), but when you aren't at work, nothing is stopping you. They can't really make you do anything except you. Sure, money's tight. But you work 30 hours a week and then you are done. That leaves a solid 138 hours for important things.


So spend a few hours watching TV, or go for a walk. Hunt down fun things to do. Next week I am hitting the Art Museum, because it's Free Admission day. Then one of these weekends I'm off to the zoo. Sure, it's a racket. I'll have to pay for parking. But still. Beats working.

3) It forces you to think on what you can actually control.
This sort of dovetails with number 1. I wrote these off-the-cuff, and mostly just to see pictures of kittens. But it stands. As a broke-as-shit third-lifer, sometimes you have to decide between beer and insurance payments. Well, you need insurance. You can't really control your job too much. Unless you get creative. Do you choose the 9 dollar/hour McD's job or the 9 dollar/hour Starbucks job? Fuck it. Who cares. You are not, nor will you ever be, your job.

To reiterate. Nobody cares what you do when you’re a slave to the man. Use it as a way to explore something you love. Take a Martial Art. Join a gym (or build your own) . Start a blog about self-improvement that inexplicably turns political. Learn a language. The point is, information is nearly free (thanks hacker-gen!) and all that's required is time and determination. And believe me, you've got the time. And if schlepping coffee to (or with) overweight, angry baby-boomers and gen-exers doesn't motivate you to find something better, then you don't need this. You are a corporate slave. Go clackity-clack on your keyboard, greyface.  

You can’t control your job, you can’t control aging. So don’t bother. Do what you want. Go your own way.

4) It's highly leveragable.
Ok, for once my advice for the corporate lifestyle. The world is becoming chock-full of interns and people doing projects. But you've been serving burgers or coffee or selling books. Or god help you,. worked in a call center. Let's face it, though we bust our asses, we can't successfully answer the question "what did you actually do?"

Well, uh, I guess I served coffee. I tool 55 calls a day. And, how did that help improve the company? Uh... it... uh... Lowered call times? (It didn't, we were understaffed as hell -heaven).
 
They want to know that you built a more produvtive "whosit", or that you worked with a team of bulgarian midget engineers and the Gnomes of Zurich*** to increase toaster efficiency by point-oh-four-four percent. And let's be honest, working retail or service, you probably don't have the authority to even actually explore the possibilities, much less actualize and implement them.

So don't. Your resume - your project resume, should read about things you did. Learned a language. Lost weight. Travel. Show them that, despite a failing economy, you did things considered very difficult. That way you can leverage your free time activities should you decide you hate yourself, and are a whore to the corporate world.  

5) You’ll find your Element.
 A friend of mine dropped a book called The Element in my lap. It’s an alright read. More heat than light, really. He writes that the leaders in different fields found their “element”. Basically they found their passion, niche, and support group to become the best at “whatever.” If you are slogging away as an intern AND working at Bob’;s Chicken Shack, you don’t have a lot of time to find your element. So chuck the internship. In a year, it may make you a ton of cash, but in that same year, you may just find something that makes you actually happy and creative.. And if that’s sitting and watching TV, well, that’s ok. Relevance is for suckers.


The best thing about miserable circumstances is that you can find out how to be actually happy. I know, it’s weird for me to say that.  But Sun Tzu wrote that “To a surrounded enemy, you must leave a way of escape.”. Because if you give them hope they will run to it, and rout. But if they have no other option, they will fight like lions. Well, here’s your mistake. They have left an “way of escape” from your poverty. You think that internship in Corporate America (tm) is going to lead to something better.  And so you put off doing the things you love for a golden parachute. And by the time you get, you’ll break your hip using it.


__________________________________________________________

*nobody is paying me to shill.

** Beats the other Ungart's Law. I feel bad for the people in Ohio now. Look, I did not know the cat was underage, I swear. It said it was 12 months.

*** That's two Illuminatus Trilogy references. Eat it R.A.Wilson!

Sunday Morning, Coming Down

A few things. Despite a week being Friday to Thursday, I've decided to not go on facebook for a week. I am becoming polemic, and arguing way too much. In addition, it's a distraction from what I should be focusing on.

I didn't get to take a cold shower this morning before work. I overslept. If this process is going to work, this needs to stop. I will take a shower during my long lunch today

I have been assigned extra hours at work. this means I will be less broke, but also have less time. I am already constantly distracted from getting work done, so I guess I will have to work harder at focusing

I am available by email and by phone, and since this is my schedule, I will update my blog. comments related to blog content are welcome. If there is a typo, just email me.

Todays Schedule:

9:00 am to 1:00 pm Work

1:00pm to 1:30 pm Cold Shower 1

1:30 to 1:50 Russian study

2:00 pm to 4 pm: Work, part II

That's as far as my schedule goes today.

I would like to work on my book, read another book, and study some Spanish.

Notice I haven't posted anything about eating. Despite negative affects of fasting on my metabolism, my whole body feels sick, so I am skipping eating today. This will not become a habit. Also, most of the data about fasting comes from pastors and religious types, which makes it nearly worthless from a medical standpoint.