So anyway, I seem to be feeling the happiest, and yet concurrently, the most depressed I've ever felt in my entire life. I am so totally stoked about the baby that I could pop, but at the same time, just about everything else in my life is equivalent to a heaping pile of monkey shit. I guess I'm just bummed that I can't seem to get things together musically. I know I've entered a field where I have to make things happen, but that just isn't feasible right now, and won't be for about three or four YEARS!!! Don't get me wrong, I absolutely, positively, in no way, shape or form whatsoever regret having a baby right now. Actually, in the grand scheme of things, it's probably an ideal time. I know my wife's happy; she's downright bubbly about it. And she's never been more radiant or beautiful (no I don't get off on preggies, but the 'glow' is real enough). As a couple, we've been getting along better than ever (not that that was ever a real problem anyway). But...
I hate my job; I hate most of the people I work with and for (more on that in a minute). I haven't composed anything of note (hah! that's pun-ny) in months. My one source of potential film projects seems to have disappeared of the face of the Earth. I've paid off several bills, but I still seem to have just as many as before (*in an English accent* Oh God, I'm soooo depressed!). Oh well, welcome to life I guess!
As for 'work', well, let me elaborate a little (not a lot, really!) on why I hate it so much. First there's my shift manager whom I shall from henceforth refer to as Big Bad Hindu Mamma, or BBHM. Let me start by saying that I know how Peter felt in Office Space. I basically answer to 3 (Three...as in more than two) people. My immediate supervisor, the deaf queer (he's not really gay, it's just fun to torment him about it...but he is deaf), may be the only truly intelligent person other than my mother and myself on our floor. I can live with him...he's a good guy...just hard to understand on occasion. Then there's his first boss, and also my boss, BBHM. She is neither bad (in the blaxploitation film sense), nor Hindu (she's not really a mom either - never had kids). She is however a mildly retarded, über-cow. She worked as a call center floor manager for a major credit card company for 20 years before coming to the bank. While there, she was shipped to India to open and train the call center that her company was outsourcing there. She likes to think that she has some special super-power that enabled her to be chosen for the assignment when in actuality she was simply the most qualified, and had seniority. We're talking about a woman, whom by her own admission, majored in 'Bar Hopping' in college, graduating with a low B/high C average. She came back to the States with an array of various native garbs, which she likes to wear to work regularly (she has one on now as a matter of fact). Problem is, she weighs about 60 pounds heavier than your average Indian woman. Put a turban on her head and she'd look like a palm reader at some dustbowl carny (moles and all). Point of fact, she is probably the single most repulsive looking person (man or woman) that I have ever personally known. I think she may actually be Larry the Cable Guy's sister (Holy Moley anyone!) She has obnoxious down to a science. She thinks she has a firm understanding of sarcasm as a source of humor...problem is, every time she tries to be 'funny', she just comes across as an imbecile. Think of Pat from It's Pat, but shorter, fat, and blonde. From behind she looks like a young boy, but when she turns around she looks 8 months pregnant. You know, just as a bit of a side note, as I'm typing this I can't help but laugh about something I read the other day. On CNN.com, the daily poll was asking whether or not a person has the right to trash their boss in a blog, and to my surprise, nay astonishment, at last count 29% of the vote said NO!!! I can't help but think a majority of those were other people's bosses who, like mine, just don't realize how much of a complete jerk-off they really are. I know, having said all that, I only enjoy a limited sense of anonymity, but at this point, I could give 2 whole shits about it...anyway...
I hate my job; I hate most of the people I work with and for (more on that in a minute). I haven't composed anything of note (hah! that's pun-ny) in months. My one source of potential film projects seems to have disappeared of the face of the Earth. I've paid off several bills, but I still seem to have just as many as before (*in an English accent* Oh God, I'm soooo depressed!). Oh well, welcome to life I guess!
As for 'work', well, let me elaborate a little (not a lot, really!) on why I hate it so much. First there's my shift manager whom I shall from henceforth refer to as Big Bad Hindu Mamma, or BBHM. Let me start by saying that I know how Peter felt in Office Space. I basically answer to 3 (Three...as in more than two) people. My immediate supervisor, the deaf queer (he's not really gay, it's just fun to torment him about it...but he is deaf), may be the only truly intelligent person other than my mother and myself on our floor. I can live with him...he's a good guy...just hard to understand on occasion. Then there's his first boss, and also my boss, BBHM. She is neither bad (in the blaxploitation film sense), nor Hindu (she's not really a mom either - never had kids). She is however a mildly retarded, über-cow. She worked as a call center floor manager for a major credit card company for 20 years before coming to the bank. While there, she was shipped to India to open and train the call center that her company was outsourcing there. She likes to think that she has some special super-power that enabled her to be chosen for the assignment when in actuality she was simply the most qualified, and had seniority. We're talking about a woman, whom by her own admission, majored in 'Bar Hopping' in college, graduating with a low B/high C average. She came back to the States with an array of various native garbs, which she likes to wear to work regularly (she has one on now as a matter of fact). Problem is, she weighs about 60 pounds heavier than your average Indian woman. Put a turban on her head and she'd look like a palm reader at some dustbowl carny (moles and all). Point of fact, she is probably the single most repulsive looking person (man or woman) that I have ever personally known. I think she may actually be Larry the Cable Guy's sister (Holy Moley anyone!) She has obnoxious down to a science. She thinks she has a firm understanding of sarcasm as a source of humor...problem is, every time she tries to be 'funny', she just comes across as an imbecile. Think of Pat from It's Pat, but shorter, fat, and blonde. From behind she looks like a young boy, but when she turns around she looks 8 months pregnant. You know, just as a bit of a side note, as I'm typing this I can't help but laugh about something I read the other day. On CNN.com, the daily poll was asking whether or not a person has the right to trash their boss in a blog, and to my surprise, nay astonishment, at last count 29% of the vote said NO!!! I can't help but think a majority of those were other people's bosses who, like mine, just don't realize how much of a complete jerk-off they really are. I know, having said all that, I only enjoy a limited sense of anonymity, but at this point, I could give 2 whole shits about it...anyway...
I've worked for her for a little over two years, and she STILL does not know how half the processes in the department even work...it's very disconcerting. At present, I'm the only one on my shift that knows how to do my job, so when I'm gone it's up to BBHM to attempt it. It defies any sense of logic or belief just how many people from other departments thank whatever God they pray to that I'm back from wherever I was...and tell me as much personally! I begin training DQ next week, and he's smart and a quick study, so folks around here won't have to freak completely about my leaving for a week next month. To sum up about BBHM, if there are two things I despise more than anything they are disorganization, and incompetence, and she personifies both.
Then there's her boss, as well as my boss...again, whom I shall refer to as Chocolate Starfish. He's the department manager thereby making him my mom's boss also, a VP, and a complete pretentious, sexist, retarded dickwad to boot. I knew everything I ever needed to know about him before I even started working here thanks to my mom. I was treated to a lot of dirt about the goings on at the bank before I began working there. It mostly stopped after I was hired; my mom's not entirely unethical after all. CS is a product of the hills of Arkansas, and it shows. I'm also relatively sure that, and I know it's cliché, he's married to a close blood relative, probably his sister (the bitch looks EXACTLY like him...and his kids actually look like they're missing a chromosome!). He's one of those people who thinks he knows everything about everything...ever, particularly in banking. His daddy ran a bank back home so he thinks he's seen it all ("Have you ever seen a man swallow his own head?" he he). I'm talking about a dipshit who, when redesigning the floor layout, placed nearly every counter and table at comfortable height for himself (6'1"), despite the fact that nearly every member of his staff is a woman under 5'8". If the man had pointy ears, he'd be a donkey. Hell, he already has the personality and I.Q. to match. In short (I know, too late), he is Lumberg! (*again in English accent* Oh God, I am soooooooooo depressed)
I'm not really looking for pity so please don't feel sorry for me or try to console me. I'm just...bummed. Everybody needs to whine like a little girl once in a while. Aside from my wonderful wife, nothing in life thus far has seemed to go as planned. I know things aren't supposed to, but come on, everybody get's a break once in a while. I mean, what the FUCK?!?! I'm so totally uninspired right now I could puke. B-rad (Vogler for you fine folks) tried to get me out of my funk (though he didn't realize that's what he was doing) by suggesting some corrections and additions to my first String Quartet, but I just can't seem to muster up any will power to actually do it. I'm basically fucked,or just this side of it. The giant cock of sorrow is teasing my asshole, just waiting to shove itself on in. I don't know what to do, I'm sure something will come to me...a quick painless end to it all if I'm really lucky (I really don't want to be completely fucked by the cock of sorrow after all).
*once more, with accent* GOD, I AM SOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO DEPRESSED!!!!!!!!!!
p.s. If you don't get the Marvin reference, or the accent thing, please, for the love of God, get to a bookstore or library and read Hitchhiker's Guide....NOW!!! (that means you especially Fowler)
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