Lenny Bruce is not afraid

Last night, I had a dream.
In my dream I was in a hospital. On a high-ish floor. Let's say the 8th.
It was a typical day at the hospital. People dying. New people being born. People in the clinic with ingrown toenails. Everything was going pretty much like you'd expect.
I was doing a job that required me to do intense and important things like write up consults, fax medical records and email people to find out if they were available for meetings.
While I was pretending to schedule a meeting, but was actually reading something important on the interwebs a warning was blasted over the hospital intercom.
I say blasted, but I think that it was just that it was out of place and unexpected. Not so much that it was loud.
We were on alert. I didn't catch the color. All personnel were required to return to their stations and wait for further information.
I was at my desk and not officially personnel so I continued reading blogs.
People could be heard scurrying in the hall. There was a lot of yelling and panic. Someone came into my office. A patient. I helped this person (I think it was an elderly man) back to his room. In the process, I saw that people were genuinely horrified. Everything was a mess.
I couldn't find any of my co-workers. Presumably they were dealing with patients. Since I couldn't do anything on the floor and was just in the way, I decided to exit the floor and see if I could do anything in the other part of the building.
There was a crush to take the elevators, and what with my claustrophobia, I didn't want to risk it. I was on the 4th floor when the announcement came over the speakers that the elevators had stalled and the hospital was on back-up generator power.
I began sprinting down the stairs, but soon the stairs were full of panicked people running like the world was coming to an end.
I got to the lobby. Everything was a mess. People screaming, running every which way. Kids crying. The perfect scene of terror.
Outside, I saw that the sky was dark. Not like a storm. But unlike anything I had ever seen. Horrible.
I turned out of the lobby and took off down the corridor into the tunnel that runs between the main hospital and the MedCenter. The tunnel was strangely quiet. I began to think that I had abandoned some sort of post I didn't know I had.
I thought that of all the places for the world to end...At that point I knew, the way you know in a dream, that this was the apocolypse. The world was going to end and I was in a tunnel underneath a hospital. People were dying overhead. Terrible things were happening in the street. I was already underground. I was alone.
I tried to call home. But my cell phone didn't have service down there.
Then, I woke up.

What could that possibly mean? Have I actually already created the End of the World scenario for the hospital? Has it gotten to me that fast? That's got to be a new record.

OH NO! I hope my little dog is alright! I hope he didn't get out and get hit by a train!

Today when I got home from toiling in the salt mines I was surprised to note that
A) A piece of my plastic shelf was in the middle of my living room floor. It wasn't there when I left---but, dog.
B) My hallway light was on. I don't leave lights on when I'm a work. I work the day shift. No reason to do that.
C) My shower curtain was pushed back. I close the shower curtain. It looks nicer.
D) Someone had been in my house.

My crazy landlady let someone into my house and didn't tell me. That is the sort of thing that justifies moving out without giving any sort of notice and immediately voids a lease. I don't actually have a lease, but if I did, she would have nullified it.
Then, the stupid woman, who was told by everyone and my mother that the toilet was fixing to fall through the fucking floor and major repairs needed done, sent someone over with a bleeding tube of caulk to fix the thing. Caulk. That's it. No wood. No floor repair. Nothing to patch up the big hole under my sink that has been created by some gnawing critter.
She sent some dude into my apartment (Where I keep my expensive neat stuff!) and he put some caulk around the toilet.

My dog! My little dog! My little gay dog! My dog let the guy in! Just 'Hey Buddy! Got any treats? Are you here to play with me? Wanna go for a walk?'

So. That was fun.

Work remains work related.
I can't complain t all. It's not perfect. But it's good.
I'm remaining cautious and chipper.
Well-as close to chipper as I am capable of being.
That is.
Not very.

It's almost like havin' it all

New job post.
I'm tired. So, it won't be long.
I don't think.
It is so not like what I'm used to.
No one's ghetto.
Except maybe me.
Everyone is very awesome and helpful and other such kind terms.
We started the day by having cake.
Chocolate cake.
I'm supposed to take some classes in the next week or so. Classes. For a temp job. I'm not sure why they'd do that.
I'm a temp.
You don't train temps.
But they are.
So. Yeah. Whatever. I don't know what that means.
Big snazzy private university hospital campus likes to throw money away?
I can believe that.
It seems like a good gig. But I don't know much. I know that it pays well and the hours are decent. Other than that-I've got nothin'.
No. That's a lie. There's a pretty good sandwich shop within walking distance.
I love sandwiches.
I'm thinking maybe I'll get a reuben tomorrow.
Mmmmm....saurkraut.
And spicy mustard.
It's important to me that I don't get too attached.
Shit...as they say...happens.

Hey-YOU KNOW WHO YOU ARE-Ma sez don't make a special trip just for her. She'll get a taxi. She'd rather you helped out on Saturday.
I.Am.So.Frightened.
The combined force of you two will crush me.
Not that I don't love ya.
But shit.
I'm out-numbered.
That's not fair.


The job is good.
I get to move around. I have an office.

For now.

Everything is just for now.

I'm not on anti-depressants! I'm on SPEED!

This morning was orientation for the new job.
Let me backtrack to give a quick rundown of the last day of the old job.

Wednesday.
The Whistling Dumbass (aka Linda) showed up and announced that a bunch of bigwigs would be stopping by today.
Oh-let me go back one more step.
Tuesday closing time.
WD let slip this very interesting piece of information:
"We have a young man who will be joining us soon who will be in charge of all the childrens' programs."
Now, I was sitting by the door playing a game that's kind of like Space Invaders only less visually stunning on my iPod. But little pitchers have big ears.
This was a very fascinating development.
There were very few ways to interpret that data. Clearly, I was on my way to the dole line. And not one motherfucker had told me.
Lucky for me, I had an episode of House to distract me. Wilson on speed is my new favorite thing in the world. Wilson on speed has actually passed candy and beer and puppies for best thing ever. That's how much I love Wilson on speed.


Don't believe me? Check it out. Better than sex. Not that I'm the one to make that call.
I had other stuff to concentrate on. I didn't think much about that the rest of the evening.


Wednesday Morning 10am
WD told me to move to the back computer because I wasn't allowed to be on the front desk.
I snapped. I told her that I would make myself scarce and make sure the Big Important People wouldn't be bothered to even have to feign politeness to the "Idiot Temp."
After a few minutes trying to calm myself down, I locked myself in the public restroom and called the temp agency to tell them that Wednesday would be my last day.
"You're required to give two weeks' notice," said voice on the other end of the phone.
"Would you give me two weeks notice?"
"That's not the point. We're going to have a very difficult time filling this position. It ends on the 21st."
"So you answered my question. You didn't give me two weeks' notice. This is my notice. Twenty-four hours. That's more than you deserve."
"You're an employee of this company."
"I'm a temp."
My heart was threatening to burst out of my chest. My brain was racing. I've seen more relaxed people at the height of a coke binge. You know Tweak on South Park? Multiply that by ten. I was fucking out of control. I was at work. Everything was spinning. The lights were really loud.
I'd never wanted a Xanax more than I did at that moment.

I called Mum and freaked out for about ten minutes. To be honest, the cause of the freak out is a bit of a mystery. I think, as illogical as this is, that I was upset that I was losing my job.
The one I'd just quit.
Because I had a better one.
Panic attacks. Anxiety disorder.
Kind of supposed to not make sense.

Anyone here ever seen me manic? Or high? I'm sure high. If you haven't seen me high. You've probably been around me when I was high. Whether you knew it or not. You might have thought it was mania. Maybe you thought I was in a really good mood. Imagine that. Now trap me somewhere. That's what I felt like.

I tried to explain this to Katie. She did her best to calm me down. My hands were twitching worse than usual. I was having a very difficult time making any sense at all. No trouble talking. But, sense? Not so much.

Then I crashed. From talking fast and furious to barely able to speak at all. The lights were still loud. But more than anything, they were bright. And the hum. G-d the incessant hum. I was going to be sick. I was sure I was going to vomit.

It's how those things work. Adrenaline rush. Hysteria. Hyper-sensitivity to sound and touch. Crash. Depression. Hyper-sensitivity to everything. Vomit. Pass out. (If you're lucky.)

I had to work the rest of the day.

Work the day and pretend I was so sad to be leaving the library. Yeah, did you ever consider going into the theatre?

Right before the end of the day, I was reading the paper. Counting the minutes. The last minutes.

"I hear you're leaving us."
"Bloody good timing, isn't it? Since I was going to be tossed on my arse soon enough."
"You would have gotten another assignment."
"You don't know that. You don't have any idea what my relationship is with that company. That's what someone told you and you just believed it...That's not how it would've worked."
"Where will you be working?"
"I don't think you need to know that."
"You're not going to tell me?" WD chuckled.
"No. I'm not. Suffice to say, it's somewhere where I will have to suffer much fewer idiots throughout the course of the day. And the pay's better."
"Much better?"
"Again, none of your business."

WD had forgotten to take in the flag. Katie helped her fold it. I promised Katie she wasn't free of me. Even if she wanted to be. I said I'd be around.

The job was terrible. If you take away the fact that I made just enough money to get by. Take away the money, because I am an overeducated educated adult, and any job I get should pay enough for me to survive. Without the money, there was only one good thing about that job. I would never have lasted there as long as I did if it wasn't for her.


Thursday
Wasn't really that interesting. I took some tutorials. I took some tests. I took some dog to the park.

Friday
Orientation at 8am. Then I had to get a bunch of shots and immunizations and blood drawn so I can work in a hospital. I'll be working in a hospital. Did I mention that? Yeah. I convinced a bunch of people I'm a neurologist. I SO rock.
Bummer for me. The only temp assignment was as an office assistant. It's ok. I'll be cutting into peoples' brains soon enough.
WA HA HA!
Then there was paperwork and the photograph for the worst hospital ID badge in America. Lazy eye. Damn lazy eye.
And a trip to the bank for verification of my account info
Back to the office to drop that off.
Turned in the last time sheet for the rotten job.
Came home.

Took dog to park.
Rain began to fall.
Watched Bob and Rose on DVD.
Dog pissed on rug.
I think this might be a habit I didn't know about previously.
I am mad at my dog.
He also had fleas.
And so my house is flea infested and smells of pee.
We aren't friends.

I'll forgive him eventually.
But he's obviously very bad. And might have to wear doggy nappies if this keeps up.
I.Am.Not.Kidding.

Mum says that if I have to work on Friday and I want to have the sale on Fri and Sat then she'll just have a big party and sell all my shit and it'll be great. So , if you've ever dreamed of cleaning my house...here's yr chance.

People don't you know what I'm talkin about?

Second post of the day. Scroll down for actual news.



"I don't expect anyone to live up to any moral code I don't hold myself to."
"And what exactly is that code?"
"Don't be unnecessarily rude. I have no problem with rudeness, but I want to know why. Don't just be an ass for no good reason. Don't lie if it doesn't do anyone any good. Again, lying is fine. But it has to lead to some kind of positive result. Lying because it's easier than telling the truth doesn't do anyone any good. In fact, it usually has negative results. Be real. Be honest. Don't just be an obnoxious ass who thinks of no one but his or her own well being. And by real I mean, don't pretend you give a shit about other people when you don't. It's human nature. I have a lot more respect for people that admit that don't give a damn what happens to anyone but themselves than people who pretend to be concerned about the human race. It doesn't matter. We're in it for ourselves. Anyone who says otherwise is delusional."
"You're very uplifting, you know that?"
"I try."
"You're also kind of a bitch."
"Never said I wasn't."

I can forgive a lot. I am unbelievably loyal to the people I care about. (Doesn't mean they have the same values as I do, I don't expect that) I would go through hell for the people that I love. But if I write you off...You could be on fire and sitting on my living room floor...I wouldn't care what happened to you. Shit, I'd probably toss a match your direction. Just to speed things along.

I don't think that's cold. Lots of people might. But I don't.

What does this have to do with anything?
It's a conversation I had today.
I believe these things. I don't care if people believe what I do. I really don't. But I'm not going to alter how I live my life in order to make anyone else happy.

Basically, what it comes down to...I've spent a lot of time doing something I hate. Just trying to survive. It's been taxing. I've been depressed. I am probably still depressed. Despite this good news. I've developed some bad habits. Unhealthy habits. Nothing I'm proud of...but if you cornered me and asked...I wouldn't deny them.

I don't want to keep living like this.

I want out.

Stayin' Alive

What have you been up to, hippie?
Oh, just some stuff....
I think I'm getting out of the ghetto.
I think I have a new job.
I made fandomwank.
And organized a cyber lesbian candy orgy.
I know you're intested. Don't pretend you're not.
Not a life goal or anything, but it kinda rocks.
Did I mention I think I have a new job?
One that might bloody well mean a 33% raise.
I'd still be far from wealthy. But I have an idea where that extra money might go--

Me: The other day this chick drove by on a Vespa and I thought: "She is so sexy!" I want to be sexy like that.
Mum: Was she wearing a helmet?
Me: Yes! And it matched the scooter! Even sexier, yes?
Dad: Yeah. Hamburger is so hot!
Me: Not everyone that rides around on 2 wheels ends up plastered to the road.
Mum: It's such a short trip, though.

I'm very proud of this

It's just a way I've been keeping myself sane. But. I'm proud of it, just the same.
WARNING---it's kinda long. And not finished. And the link goes to Chapter 7. But you can get to all the other parts from there. Scroll up.
Don't let that stop you.
It's way uplifting. Trust me. It's renew your faith in humanity shit. Promise.

It was a nice day

A clean dog is so superior to a smelly, dirty dog. For example, did you know Coupland is white and black? Not yellow and black. It's true! I had forgotten. He's small, but he can get very icky.
A clean apartment is nicer than a filthy, smelly apartment. It's true. Not that I ever get that grimy. But it felt like it.
Done laundry is far superior to laundry piled up in the clothes basket. It takes more work to clean clothes then to dirty 'em up tho.
Having food in the house is better than living on peanut butter sandwiches and canned soup. Especially when you're out of peanut butter. And soup.
Mum had an exciting story to tell. It was full of intrigue and broken laws. It's more exciting than most things that happen in that town, anyway. Typical night 'round here.

I had a good day.
The only bad part is how many times I stopped and thought, "Nothing's going wrong. This isn't normal."
It shouldn't ought to be like that.

Christian Burial Music

Back awhile ago-I think I mentioned it here-perhaps not-I started the process of applying for the local uni to get a teaching certificate.
I thought I'd have ~a year of classes to take.
Got the paper yesterday.
I'd have to start over.
Just like I was 18 and fresh out of high school.
Nothing I've done in the last decade plus would count towards that certification.
Not the bachelor's that took 10 years and G-d knows how many nervous breakdowns to get.
Certainly not the master's that quite nearly killed me.
None of it would count.

My life would be laughable if it weren't so damned miserable.

Being miserable doesn't make you better than anyone else. It just makes you miserable.

Yes. But it's my misery. And so far no one has convinced me I shouldn't embrace it.

It's about all I've got at this point.

Might as well wallow in it.

Went on a job interview today. The interviewer thought I was hilarious. She was calling people in from other cubes to witness my wit. She said I'm just what they need around there.
I'm sure it will change nothing. But at least I'm still pretending I give a damn. That's a grand gesture if ever there was one.

You want to know how bad it is?
Oh probably not. But I'm going to fucking tell you.
Not even Jeeves and Wooster are succeeding in cheering me up.

Imagine that.

We are living in the future. I'll tell you how I know. I read it in the paper, 15 years ago.

So for this one episode House had a dog. A fluffy little bad attitude having Westie looking (I dunno, I'm bad with dog breeds, look at what I live with, I have no idea what he is) ancient dog. And it was amazing and I loved it because the dog and House were in constant battle for supremecy.
I like shows that mirror my life.
Except I don't give my dog drugs. Or try to injure him.
It's the other way around.
Coupland sez "Shut up, betch! I'm tryin'a watch General Hospital!"
"Yes, Coupland. Whatever you say, Coupland."
If you get a chance watch this episode. Because House has a fuckin' dog! And it fuckin' rocks! And Wilson's all the fuck over the episode! And it's amazing!
I think there was some medicine involved too.
Dunno. I was laughing too hard about the dog.

A lady offered me a puppy today. A little tiny yellow furred blue eyed puppy that latched its fuzzy little paws to my chest and stared at me like I could offer it something. I could name it Hector. Or Hugh. Or it could possibly be a girl doggy and I could name it Georgina. (Blackadder 4-for the non-obsessed). Can't name a dog Wilson (that's Cope's middle name anyway) 'sides, might give people the wrong idea. Could call it Bobby. That would be almost vague.
I want to get a mongrel cat and call it Jehosaphat.
Wouldn't that be awesome?
I need more pets.
"No, you don't betch. GTFO. One dog. You need one dog. ME! Make me a steak, woman!"
"Sorry, Cope."
"You better be, betch."

I had a funny moment today. As some of you know, I'm evil. I enjoy making people feel as bad as I do. Or at least pointing out how stupid they are for not. Others of you know that I enjoy overuse of capital letters. Combine these two things and turns out I'm kinda funny.
Now, I find me hi-LAR-ious. Most people don't. But,anyhoo...
There's some sand filling up a bathing suit area of a corner of the interwebs I frequent. Some people I like (and am) were insulted. I pointed out that that was rude and immature.
A person that is so blunt as to make me seem downright demure mocked this incident quoting everyone involved in the conversation but me. (To the point of actually editing out portions of the conversation where the sandy people were quoting something I said) I thought this was awesome and said so.
I was being rude and expected trouble for it.
People started telling me how awesome and hilarious I am. And how I rock more than most of the people on that particular slab of internet.
I need to reiterate this-I was being a bitch. I expected to be reprimanded or banned for it. I didn't expect to be applauded and have people tell me they love me.
People astound me.
How funny.
I made some friends today.
That whole catching more flies with honey thing is a load of crap.
Vinegar. That's the way to catch flies.

Have I mentioned how awesome Hector was? Hector was awesome. I love Hector.

I'm gonna go see Patty Griffin tomorrow. Yeh. Totally am. Yep. Cost and very shocking episode of American Idol be damned. Because to not would be hella lame. I am not hella lame.
I SO rock.

In other news. Work sucks. The way something that is nothing sucks. If that makes any sense. The last couple of days have been good. I've been reading a very awesome series and it's given me ample excuse to hide in the stacks and pass the time. It's a science fiction story about a folklorist who finds herself stranded in a strange land. She learns the ways of the culture, makes friends and discovers that she no longer feels as if she belongs with the scholars she felt were so important. But as much as she is fond of her adopted culture still longs to return to the familiar comfort of academia.
I am not making this up.
So that's fun. Love reading my life in science fictive form.
OK-the book has more adventure. And romance. But that shit's a bit weird, don't you think?