I always feel guilty. If I don't have anything to feel guilty about, I remember something in the past to feel guilty about. I ran that red light and narrowly missed three cars a month or so ago. When I was 4 years old I stole a plastic sheriff's badge from my daycare.
I helped this old rich lady with a project the other day at work. She wanted all of these pictures copied for a Christmas letter. She was your typical classic lady. She kept name dropping about different people that I knew were considered important but not as well know these days. Names like Du Pont, these were people who were famous for business not entertainment. These are the grandfathers and grandmothers of these new 'celebrities' who are only famous because of the money earned by their grandparents. I found it funny how she felt the need to let me, a lowly copy bitch, know how important she was and how important the people she knew were. One question I wanted to ask but didn't get a chance was why was she in Reno? It isn't a hub of the elite by any means.
Another work experience from a day or two back made me have a little more faith in my fellow people. This lady who was probably the most cautious person I have ever come into contact with sent 4 long faxes. When It was time to pay she didn't have the money for it. She said that she had recently been payed and hadn't had a chance to cash it. I told her that if she came in the next day and paid that would be fine, as long as she paid me. That night I didn't get a lot of sleep because I was worried that she wouldn't come back and that I may be responsible to make up the hundred dollars. The next day though she came in, it felt good. I realize that it might have been a bit of a financial burden for her and I feel bad about that.
I don't really like my work. The people I work with are bitter and angry a lot. I really don't like the idea of working for a huge corporation, but I need the money. I am still looking for other work and don't plan to be here for longer than 6 months. The only redeeming quality is about half of the people that come in. Helping the fat old man laminate the newspaper that had a picture of his grandsons car after a huge accident that they walk away from unharmed. Helping the lady prepare here documents to send to Nepal so that she can adopt a child. Helping young punks prepare their zine and concert flyers.
well.
Drink of the day, Sailor Jerry's Spiced Rum and grapefruit juice AKA Monkey Wrench
*EDITED 10:22pm*
Drunk Sunday nights are spectacular. We will see about Monday Mornings.
I don't need much, but I want vinyl.
I helped this old rich lady with a project the other day at work. She wanted all of these pictures copied for a Christmas letter. She was your typical classic lady. She kept name dropping about different people that I knew were considered important but not as well know these days. Names like Du Pont, these were people who were famous for business not entertainment. These are the grandfathers and grandmothers of these new 'celebrities' who are only famous because of the money earned by their grandparents. I found it funny how she felt the need to let me, a lowly copy bitch, know how important she was and how important the people she knew were. One question I wanted to ask but didn't get a chance was why was she in Reno? It isn't a hub of the elite by any means.
Another work experience from a day or two back made me have a little more faith in my fellow people. This lady who was probably the most cautious person I have ever come into contact with sent 4 long faxes. When It was time to pay she didn't have the money for it. She said that she had recently been payed and hadn't had a chance to cash it. I told her that if she came in the next day and paid that would be fine, as long as she paid me. That night I didn't get a lot of sleep because I was worried that she wouldn't come back and that I may be responsible to make up the hundred dollars. The next day though she came in, it felt good. I realize that it might have been a bit of a financial burden for her and I feel bad about that.
I don't really like my work. The people I work with are bitter and angry a lot. I really don't like the idea of working for a huge corporation, but I need the money. I am still looking for other work and don't plan to be here for longer than 6 months. The only redeeming quality is about half of the people that come in. Helping the fat old man laminate the newspaper that had a picture of his grandsons car after a huge accident that they walk away from unharmed. Helping the lady prepare here documents to send to Nepal so that she can adopt a child. Helping young punks prepare their zine and concert flyers.
well.
Drink of the day, Sailor Jerry's Spiced Rum and grapefruit juice AKA Monkey Wrench
*EDITED 10:22pm*
Drunk Sunday nights are spectacular. We will see about Monday Mornings.
I don't need much, but I want vinyl.