Warning: beyond this point, there’s going to be a LOT of bitching.
Yesterday, chasing down a new job, I drove 170 miles round trip for an “interview” that lasted less than 10 minutes. I was dropping off paperwork at a staffing agency so I could be considered for employment by another company which may be ANOTHER 3 digit round trip. The people were nice enough and the pay rate discussed was adequate, but (if you read my Facebook page, you’ve seen this complaint) that was 5 gallons of gas for which I had paid $4.05 for each gallon (and thought that was a bargain. This is California). My car is a very good boy, but he’s a very good boy with 127,000 miles on his engine, in need of some love from a mechanic for which I don’t have money.
My phone crapped out this morning. This is my sole means of being reached by potential employers. I’ll be on my way to see what (if anything) I can do about it in 2.5 hours. Oh yeah, my phone bill is due, too. So is my storage bill. And my car insurance. And my housing. What do I have for food? One chicken breast, ground flax seed and some almond butter.
And since I probably have to replace the phone (HTC Evo. When it’s good, it’s very, very good. When it goes down, it goes down HARD), housing myself after Friday is going to be a challenge. I live in a hotel (not a fancy one) because I fucked up years ago, my credit has sucked for years and California landlords are picky about credit, down payments, etc. unless one is willing to live in Cockroach Central or let the landlord climb on top of her (seriously. Read the ads on Craigslist sometime). Hotels, so long as you can pay the freight, are not. Well, from tomorrow forward, if I have to shell out for a new phone today, I can’t.
I can’t file for unemployment until Sunday night and it won’t be in until Monday. I’m educated. I have skills and experience. I have to go through this bullshit. You know, I’ve gone through similar bullshit a few times. Remember my rant about Samantha Brick and her means of getting ahead (find the alpha male and play up to him)? A woman with whom I used to work whose chief skill was sucking dick (literally) and the rest of us had to pick up her slack while she was busy employing that skill is still working. She’s at the same company that told me how much they liked me, but I haven’t gotten them to return a phone call in 2 years.
The last straw has been added to this camel’s back. Keep reading.
Meanwhile in America, where, theoretically, if you have the training and willingness to work hard, you can get and stay ahead, Nadya Suleman (the “Octomom”), a woman who’s claim to fame is having 14 children she will never be able to support (her house in La Habra is now saved from foreclosure because she’s filed for bankruptcy. Ms. Suleman: have you considered moving into a shoe?), boo-hooed her way into tens of thousands of dollars worth of cleaning, help with her army of test tube babies and training for a real job (but she’d rather have endorsement deals). And of course, we have my favorite family, the Whoredashians, whose empire rests on one daughter’s big ass, fame addiction and internationally known sex tape. They’re thriving. I doubt any of them could spell cat if you spotted them the “c”, but I guess pretty people don’t have to work.
And one of Mitt Romney’s Bain Capital cronies, Edward Conrad, has a book coming out that says “At base, having a small elite with vast wealth is good for the poor and middle class.” (I shit you not) Really? Vulture capitalism that throws the middle class out of their jobs is good for us? We know you benefitted, Douchebag and you’re probably planning to help your buddy, Mitt, rape American taxpayers even further. You’ve been giving millions to his campaign. Thanks, Supreme Court and Citizens United. Way to level the fucking playing field for the middle class.
I’m not so sure I want to do this anymore. I am too old to pump out 14 test tube babies. I can’t tan, so a reality show like “The Jersey Shore” is out of the question and there is no way in hell I make a sex tape (Unless it was with Uggie the Dog, it wouldn’t get that much play anyway).
Donations gladly accepted.
O Glorious St. Joseph, thou who hast power to render possible even things which are considered impossible, come to our aid in our present trouble and distress. Take this important and difficult affair under thy particular protection, that it may end happily.