Today had me hurting. Now, I'm not hurting this minute, so this is not a whingeing, mewling, self-pitying moment. I'm not sure exactly why I ended up with a slight feeling of hurtiness, but I did. I descend into such a pit if I'm tired or stressed, and especially when I'm tired and stressed, and it would appear that today never really started on the right foot, thus exacerbating my tiredness and elevating my stress levels.
Then the pining can begin.
However, I'm not pining now. I just was. Pining for a time when my heart was full of something other than stress and tiredness. This heart-full-of-the-wrong-thing, is itself not a product of work, though a trying day at work, coupled with my relentless out-of-work-schedule, and I'm in trouble. Emotionally, at least.
Sigh.
I got into the wrong frame of mind quickly, after a rush to be at work early enough for the first job interviewee had me woozy and there before the interviewee, who arrived late. We need the interview process to yield someone at least half decent. Preferably really good. After three interviews, I had seen one person who was just pointlessly useless, one person who was annoyingly argumentative and wrong, and one person who I wished had "it", but simply didn't.
I ended up calling up a friend who I know does this sort of work. I needed to speak to someone who I knew would get the job if they applied. Just to be certain that I wasn't going mad. I needed to feel like there was someone around who would just "get it". Thank goodness for that. Total crash into confusion averted.
Mind you, it's something of a confidence boost to think that there are people out there, potentially able to charge more as a contractor than I earn, who can't even talk the talk, let alone to the work. If it all goes wrong, I think I have me a general purpose backup plan - I'll become a contractor and be one of the people that interviewers like me actually breathe a sigh of relief when they come into contact with. I'll be informed. I'll hold views, but I'll be pragmatic about them. I'll be flexible. I'll be willing. I won't be shit. I'll be doing it for the work and for the satisfaction of a job well done, not for my CV.
I won't go contracting, probably. Life's complicated enough. Maybe I'll eat those words.
Me: Any questions for us?
Him: Why haven't you asked more technical questions [gives some questions we didn't ask]?
Me: I'm asking about the things I'm interested in, and your answers have been quite non-technical, though I was looking for fairly detailed explanations of how.
Him: But people usually ask really obscure questions, and I know the answers to them.
Me: Do you actually want this job?
Him: Not really, it won't look good on my CV.
Me: Ok, well, I think we can stop here, then. Shame, though. I think it could have looked good on your CV. [thinks - it wouldn't look good on mine to have hired you, though]
As the clock ticked on to the end of the day, I sorted out a couple of things and then got in the car headed for the gig. A drug deal was taking place in the work car park, so they were parked in my way. Thanks lads.
I drove to the gig and my body was being all emotional on me. Hormones, perhaps. However, I can't underestimate the power of a good drive-to-gig to sort me out. A bit of the radio. A bit of mileage. Some music and singing along. All of a sudden I was amused again and back into comedy mood. I took this mood into the gig with me.
On stage, some banter with the audience ended up with me semi-believing that two of the girls in the room were prostitutes, out for a night with their pimp. I'd had it all tonight. Drugs and prosistutes. I bantered a little with them, doing my material and getting to the fat end of a 10 minute set - namely about minute 15.
I was there to do a 10-minute try out spot for the promoter. I ended up doing longer (which was fine) and receiving calls for "more" as I left the stage. I guess I left the audience wanting more. Neat.
I've been told I'll get booked again.
Job done.
Comedy has cured me again of my heavy heart and I'm tired enough to be susceptible to tomorrow's stresses, but it doesn't seem to matter.
Then the pining can begin.
However, I'm not pining now. I just was. Pining for a time when my heart was full of something other than stress and tiredness. This heart-full-of-the-wrong-thing, is itself not a product of work, though a trying day at work, coupled with my relentless out-of-work-schedule, and I'm in trouble. Emotionally, at least.
Sigh.
I got into the wrong frame of mind quickly, after a rush to be at work early enough for the first job interviewee had me woozy and there before the interviewee, who arrived late. We need the interview process to yield someone at least half decent. Preferably really good. After three interviews, I had seen one person who was just pointlessly useless, one person who was annoyingly argumentative and wrong, and one person who I wished had "it", but simply didn't.
I ended up calling up a friend who I know does this sort of work. I needed to speak to someone who I knew would get the job if they applied. Just to be certain that I wasn't going mad. I needed to feel like there was someone around who would just "get it". Thank goodness for that. Total crash into confusion averted.
Mind you, it's something of a confidence boost to think that there are people out there, potentially able to charge more as a contractor than I earn, who can't even talk the talk, let alone to the work. If it all goes wrong, I think I have me a general purpose backup plan - I'll become a contractor and be one of the people that interviewers like me actually breathe a sigh of relief when they come into contact with. I'll be informed. I'll hold views, but I'll be pragmatic about them. I'll be flexible. I'll be willing. I won't be shit. I'll be doing it for the work and for the satisfaction of a job well done, not for my CV.
I won't go contracting, probably. Life's complicated enough. Maybe I'll eat those words.
Me: Any questions for us?
Him: Why haven't you asked more technical questions [gives some questions we didn't ask]?
Me: I'm asking about the things I'm interested in, and your answers have been quite non-technical, though I was looking for fairly detailed explanations of how.
Him: But people usually ask really obscure questions, and I know the answers to them.
Me: Do you actually want this job?
Him: Not really, it won't look good on my CV.
Me: Ok, well, I think we can stop here, then. Shame, though. I think it could have looked good on your CV. [thinks - it wouldn't look good on mine to have hired you, though]
As the clock ticked on to the end of the day, I sorted out a couple of things and then got in the car headed for the gig. A drug deal was taking place in the work car park, so they were parked in my way. Thanks lads.
I drove to the gig and my body was being all emotional on me. Hormones, perhaps. However, I can't underestimate the power of a good drive-to-gig to sort me out. A bit of the radio. A bit of mileage. Some music and singing along. All of a sudden I was amused again and back into comedy mood. I took this mood into the gig with me.
On stage, some banter with the audience ended up with me semi-believing that two of the girls in the room were prostitutes, out for a night with their pimp. I'd had it all tonight. Drugs and prosistutes. I bantered a little with them, doing my material and getting to the fat end of a 10 minute set - namely about minute 15.
I was there to do a 10-minute try out spot for the promoter. I ended up doing longer (which was fine) and receiving calls for "more" as I left the stage. I guess I left the audience wanting more. Neat.
I've been told I'll get booked again.
Job done.
Comedy has cured me again of my heavy heart and I'm tired enough to be susceptible to tomorrow's stresses, but it doesn't seem to matter.
1 Comments:
"one person who was annoyingly argumentative and wrong"
Bet they said the same about you ;-)))
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