Here it is, then. The wide world of not having anything to do. While a portion of my day is dedicated to looking for work, I still have hours to fill. So now a secondary goal, other than fixing this ridiculous unemployment situation, will be other activities that I can fill the hours with. Other things that will keep me motivated and interested in a way that will activate my mind so it doesn't atrophy.
Today I filed. I made the leap from contributing member of society to burden of society. I filed online, which, for what it is, was fairly painless. There were some vague aspect of the form, so after I completed the form I called the office. Several times.
The first time, I was asked where I lived. "New London," I said.
"Okay, you have to call the New London office," The woman on the other end responded.
"Okay."
"The number is (860) 443-012."
This is not a real phone number. This is the thing a disinterested girl gives some dude at a bar. "Uhhh...can you repeat that," I said. "I didn't get all the..."
Dial tone.
Are you fucking kidding me? You rotten slag, what the hell is the matter with you? I was a little miffed at this point. Either way, I found the number and called.
There was a recording that said nothing interesting for a while and then this: "To continue in English, press 1. To continue in Spanish, press 2. If you use a rotary phone, hold the line." First of all, who the hell uses a rotary phone still? Is this a problem? What is going on in this state?
I press 1 for English. "Gracias! Para blah blah blah." I don't speak Spanish, so I don't know what they said. I do know the difference between a 1 and a 2, and I certainly engaged the 1 button for English speaking robots to blabber to me while I wait for an actual human to answer my questions.
Are you fucking kidding me? How does the State of Connecticut not know either what a 1 or a 2 is or the difference between English and fucking SPANISH!
At this point I threw a pen against a wall and broke it. I was...more than miffed.
So I called back, went through that shit again, but this time, they registered the English request and I went ahead and got put on hold. After a solid 15 minutes of hold time, a robot came on the line and offered the call back service, which I accepted. An hour later, they called me back. I was put on hold AGAIN (fucking bureaucracy) and eventually a person came on the line. She was very helpful and answered all my questions and finished off my claim professionally. That was nice.
So then I went on the job hunt, something that I am going to have to get used to. I have to keep at it, plug away, and send at least one resume out a day. Anything I come across that I can do, or I think I can do, that business/organization/drug dealer is going to get a resume from me. Fuck them if they don't want to call me back. I am going to waste a lot of their time, whether they say no or not.
But now I have to fill time. This blogging thing will probably help. I don't have school anymore, unless it gets real bad out there and I deem it necessary to go back for a Master's. I doubt that though. And I don't want to get deeper into debt if I can help it.
So I came up with some things for me to do in my extra, non-searching, time.
-Catch up on my shows: Seriously, I should probably get on The Knick or Downton Abbey or something.
-Rewatch old shows: Lost a second time around? Why the fuck not, I literally got nothing else to do.
-Read: Holy shit, I have been on the same page of Don Quixote for, like, 7 months. I need to knock some of this library of mine out and learn some shit.
-Research: I AM trying to open a brewery, so learning how to do that would probably be a good idea, no?
-Learn something: A language, maybe. Something weird. I want to translate shit into Welsh. That might be fun.
-Keep the apartment clean: Really no excuse not to, and it'll be productive.
-Work out: I need to fight the urge to stay on my ass, getting fatter and fatter. And it might help fix my leg issues.
-Not drink: I need to fight the urge to day drink. I like day drinking, especially when I'm bored, so this is going to be a test of my will power. I'm strong, though. I got this.
I'm strong, though. I got this.
SD
Monday, September 29, 2014
Tuesday, September 23, 2014
I need a new job.
Seriously. My job is ending. After 7 years of working at Mangetout, doing literally everything there is to do in a cafe, We are closing our doors. Kinda. The business is reorganizing to be a catering/bakery/wholesale concern where the dining room, my domain, is no longer part of the day to day operation of the business. This is fine. The cafe side of things has run its course and we determined that it is no longer economically viable to keep it running as is. Therefore, the decision has been made to change everything up and go a different direction.
I'm pretty okay with this. I think I was getting burned out with the same shit day in and day out and needed a change of pace. So Friday is going to be my last day of work, and the last day that Mangetout will be an actual cafe.
So I need a new job.
The problem is that I have a gimpy leg right now, so finding a new job might be a little difficult at the moment. Luckily, I can collect unemployment benefits for a bit and have at least a minimal amount of money coming in. And I have a bit saved up, so I won't be completely shit out of luck right off the bat. Another problem is that I have little to no tangible skills. I have prospects, but they are way off in the future, and I will probably get into those somewhere down the line, just not today.
My lack of work has been a huge source of anxiety for me. I have never really been in this position before. Granted, I am looking forward to being able to collect for a while and relax. It will allot me an opportunity to focus on my brewery project and some other things that I have going on in my life. Things you fuckers aren't going to read about. At least not yet.
I feel like I am swimming a bit. My knee issue couldn't have come at a worse possible time, and with the uncertainty of my direct future, I feel as though I am getting lost in my own head and losing control over my life. I do not like this feeling. I am in the water, without land in sight, looking only at the sky for direction and blindly going East in hopes of solid ground.
So much in my life is nebulous. So much is out of my control. So much is to be determined by outside forces. So much is left unto others that I can't grasp the potential positives right now. Not nearly enough is in my own hands. All of this is scary, and all of this gives me stress.
They (whoever the fuck they are) say that your dream job is something that you would do for free if you had the opportunity to. Well, I'm pretty sure nobody is going to pay me to sit around in lazy pants, drink copious amounts of beer, eat pizza, and scream at football games on my TV for eight hours a day. And nobody is going to pay me to sleep in and aimlessly watch Netflix all day. Well, maybe that second option, but that's stretching it pretty far.
So I thought about the things that I wanted to do when I grew up and where those goals got derailed. Here's that list:
-Quarterback for the New York Giants
I have little to no athletic ability and I have never played organized football.
-Shortstop for the New York Yankees (I'm a NY sports guy, fuck off)
Again, I have little to no athletic ability and Derek Jeter showed up, so whatever baseball I did is null.
-Spaceman
Not astronaut, more like Spaceman Spiff. But I am still scared of space camp and math, so fuck that.
-Fireman
Nope. Fire is cool.
-Teacher
Turns out I could have done this, but I don't much care for youths, so fuck that, too.
-Sportswriter/broadcaster
I have actually done this, and it was awesome. I was just too young and stupid to follow up seriously.
-Cartoon Voice Guy
I have no idea why I wanted to do this, probably too many Looney Toons. Still might be cool, though.
And that's about it. I'm sure there were more along the way, but I can't remember them at this point. Nowadays, All I want to do is open my brewery and get a life going with that. It's not out of the realm of possibility, and there are strides being made to make this happen.
I hope it does. So so badly.
SD
I'm pretty okay with this. I think I was getting burned out with the same shit day in and day out and needed a change of pace. So Friday is going to be my last day of work, and the last day that Mangetout will be an actual cafe.
So I need a new job.
The problem is that I have a gimpy leg right now, so finding a new job might be a little difficult at the moment. Luckily, I can collect unemployment benefits for a bit and have at least a minimal amount of money coming in. And I have a bit saved up, so I won't be completely shit out of luck right off the bat. Another problem is that I have little to no tangible skills. I have prospects, but they are way off in the future, and I will probably get into those somewhere down the line, just not today.
My lack of work has been a huge source of anxiety for me. I have never really been in this position before. Granted, I am looking forward to being able to collect for a while and relax. It will allot me an opportunity to focus on my brewery project and some other things that I have going on in my life. Things you fuckers aren't going to read about. At least not yet.
I feel like I am swimming a bit. My knee issue couldn't have come at a worse possible time, and with the uncertainty of my direct future, I feel as though I am getting lost in my own head and losing control over my life. I do not like this feeling. I am in the water, without land in sight, looking only at the sky for direction and blindly going East in hopes of solid ground.
So much in my life is nebulous. So much is out of my control. So much is to be determined by outside forces. So much is left unto others that I can't grasp the potential positives right now. Not nearly enough is in my own hands. All of this is scary, and all of this gives me stress.
They (whoever the fuck they are) say that your dream job is something that you would do for free if you had the opportunity to. Well, I'm pretty sure nobody is going to pay me to sit around in lazy pants, drink copious amounts of beer, eat pizza, and scream at football games on my TV for eight hours a day. And nobody is going to pay me to sleep in and aimlessly watch Netflix all day. Well, maybe that second option, but that's stretching it pretty far.
So I thought about the things that I wanted to do when I grew up and where those goals got derailed. Here's that list:
-Quarterback for the New York Giants
I have little to no athletic ability and I have never played organized football.
-Shortstop for the New York Yankees (I'm a NY sports guy, fuck off)
Again, I have little to no athletic ability and Derek Jeter showed up, so whatever baseball I did is null.
-Spaceman
Not astronaut, more like Spaceman Spiff. But I am still scared of space camp and math, so fuck that.
-Fireman
Nope. Fire is cool.
-Teacher
Turns out I could have done this, but I don't much care for youths, so fuck that, too.
-Sportswriter/broadcaster
I have actually done this, and it was awesome. I was just too young and stupid to follow up seriously.
-Cartoon Voice Guy
I have no idea why I wanted to do this, probably too many Looney Toons. Still might be cool, though.
And that's about it. I'm sure there were more along the way, but I can't remember them at this point. Nowadays, All I want to do is open my brewery and get a life going with that. It's not out of the realm of possibility, and there are strides being made to make this happen.
I hope it does. So so badly.
SD
Thursday, September 18, 2014
Torn/Internal Derangement
Torn. Like a Natalie Imbruglia song. Well, not really, but still. I was diagnosed with a torn meniscus today in my grand return to the orthopedist. I never get good news there, but this is about as good as it could have gotten. Other than the doctor saying "Oh, this is nothing, you're just a pussy and should shut the Hell up," I think that I got some good news today.
They decided not to take any X-Rays or send me for an MRI because the root issue, the massive swelling, had begun to dissipate and I was gaining more and more movement and strength in the leg. So they prodded and poked and stretched and bent and rubbed and otherwise manipulated my right leg to determine if something was seriously wrong in there. Turns out, yes and no.
The yes is because I have a torn bit of protective barrier in my knee. The menisci are found in joints and is meant to act as a weight dispersion vehicle and anti-friction buffer in knees, elbows, shoulders, hips, and elsewhere in the skeletal system. The one in my right knee is torn, and that caused the sonofabitch to swell up and give me great discomfort.
The no is because I don't have to get surgery to make the pain and swelling go away. Ice, rest, and elevation are the immediate therapeutic techniques I will use, on doctor's orders, to get this thing back to health. Also, physical therapy including strengthening that region and shedding some poundage off my fat ass will be part of the game plan in the near future. I have to delay some of the physical stuff until I can walk properly, and when that day comes, I'll get back into a workout regimen.
In the meantime, I can still exercise, but nothing involving my knees. Cardio will be easy, all I have to do is move around on the crutches because that shit will ruin you. SO good for you guns. Need to put on a gun show? Crutch around for a few days before hand, you will be totally vascular, bro.
The fun part of this whole mess came in the official diagnosis. The torn meniscus is a 99% sure thing, but without proper testing, they legally can't be totally affirmative about that as the final result. So on the diagnostic paperwork, I am listed as having an Internal Derangement.
Internal Derangement.
This is awesome. Now I essentially have a doctor's note for crazy! "Sorry officer, I only peed on your car because I have an internal derangement." "Why did I punch that dog? Internal derangement, mister." "I broke that guitar on a bank because I am deranged. Internally!"
I'm going to have some fun with this. Eh, who am I kidding, I'm a gigantic pansy and will just make jokes.
Oh, well. At least I don't need surgery.
SD
They decided not to take any X-Rays or send me for an MRI because the root issue, the massive swelling, had begun to dissipate and I was gaining more and more movement and strength in the leg. So they prodded and poked and stretched and bent and rubbed and otherwise manipulated my right leg to determine if something was seriously wrong in there. Turns out, yes and no.
The yes is because I have a torn bit of protective barrier in my knee. The menisci are found in joints and is meant to act as a weight dispersion vehicle and anti-friction buffer in knees, elbows, shoulders, hips, and elsewhere in the skeletal system. The one in my right knee is torn, and that caused the sonofabitch to swell up and give me great discomfort.
The no is because I don't have to get surgery to make the pain and swelling go away. Ice, rest, and elevation are the immediate therapeutic techniques I will use, on doctor's orders, to get this thing back to health. Also, physical therapy including strengthening that region and shedding some poundage off my fat ass will be part of the game plan in the near future. I have to delay some of the physical stuff until I can walk properly, and when that day comes, I'll get back into a workout regimen.
In the meantime, I can still exercise, but nothing involving my knees. Cardio will be easy, all I have to do is move around on the crutches because that shit will ruin you. SO good for you guns. Need to put on a gun show? Crutch around for a few days before hand, you will be totally vascular, bro.
The fun part of this whole mess came in the official diagnosis. The torn meniscus is a 99% sure thing, but without proper testing, they legally can't be totally affirmative about that as the final result. So on the diagnostic paperwork, I am listed as having an Internal Derangement.
Internal Derangement.
This is awesome. Now I essentially have a doctor's note for crazy! "Sorry officer, I only peed on your car because I have an internal derangement." "Why did I punch that dog? Internal derangement, mister." "I broke that guitar on a bank because I am deranged. Internally!"
I'm going to have some fun with this. Eh, who am I kidding, I'm a gigantic pansy and will just make jokes.
Oh, well. At least I don't need surgery.
SD
Wednesday, September 17, 2014
Well, shit....
Here we go again! It seems as though I only post in here when something is physically wrong with me. So let's keep that party going, huh!
A few years ago, when I started this literary carnage, it was because I was bored and injured with a torn ACL, and there was a lot of shit I needed to get off my chest at that particular moment in my history. When the time moved quicker and I got back into my old routine, I stopped writing. Bad move, me. Really bad. I lost my touch. I tried to be witty on Facebook and other commenting outlets, but that wasn't enough. I ended up complacent. I stopped giving a shit.
Well, now I might be hurt again (okay, so my knee hurts, but I don't know why) so I figure that restarting this hot mess would be appropriate.
To the pain!
Yesterday, for absolutely no good fucking reason, my right knee, the one I had surgered about 2 1/2 years ago, began to be sore. I was over at a friends for dinner and left early to ice it down in the comfort and quietude of my apartment. While I was icing, it began to swell. A lot. Now, I'm no doctor (clearly) but I am willing to put money on the fact that the swelling was coincidental to the ice, not resulting from it. The knee got big, like way bigger than it rightfully should have been, and stayed that way. It became difficult to walk. Luckily I don't get rid of anything ever so I still had my crutches from before. If I wanted to go refill my drink or use the loo, I had to crutch up and gimp my way to my destination. For the record, the dog HATES crutches.
This morning, it was more of the same. Movement was predicated on the crutches, but I was able to do all my business and get to work on time. I had forgotten what a fantastic upper body workout crutches can be. Never again. Anyway, I was able to tailor my work to a more stationary, sitting role, no small feat for a kitchen, and was able to make it through without incident. The swelling has gone down a bit, not enough to make me feel good about it, but some, and that's a start.
I made an appointment at Crossroads Orthopedics for tomorrow morning. We'll see how that turns out. I don't think there is anything structurally wrong in there, as there was no recent trauma that would have precipitated such a reaction. So hopefully I can get out of there with a diagnosis and some hope that this crap will pass quickly and without incident. I think that the worst that can come of this, after doing a few hours of internet based research (the MOST reliable kind), is that I have sort of arthritic mayhem going on in there and should probably get a shit ton of Aleve to remedy my condition. Actually, the worst case scenario is that I need another surgery and have to be on the disabled list for 3 months again.
Fuck that noise.
SD.
A few years ago, when I started this literary carnage, it was because I was bored and injured with a torn ACL, and there was a lot of shit I needed to get off my chest at that particular moment in my history. When the time moved quicker and I got back into my old routine, I stopped writing. Bad move, me. Really bad. I lost my touch. I tried to be witty on Facebook and other commenting outlets, but that wasn't enough. I ended up complacent. I stopped giving a shit.
Well, now I might be hurt again (okay, so my knee hurts, but I don't know why) so I figure that restarting this hot mess would be appropriate.
To the pain!
Yesterday, for absolutely no good fucking reason, my right knee, the one I had surgered about 2 1/2 years ago, began to be sore. I was over at a friends for dinner and left early to ice it down in the comfort and quietude of my apartment. While I was icing, it began to swell. A lot. Now, I'm no doctor (clearly) but I am willing to put money on the fact that the swelling was coincidental to the ice, not resulting from it. The knee got big, like way bigger than it rightfully should have been, and stayed that way. It became difficult to walk. Luckily I don't get rid of anything ever so I still had my crutches from before. If I wanted to go refill my drink or use the loo, I had to crutch up and gimp my way to my destination. For the record, the dog HATES crutches.
This morning, it was more of the same. Movement was predicated on the crutches, but I was able to do all my business and get to work on time. I had forgotten what a fantastic upper body workout crutches can be. Never again. Anyway, I was able to tailor my work to a more stationary, sitting role, no small feat for a kitchen, and was able to make it through without incident. The swelling has gone down a bit, not enough to make me feel good about it, but some, and that's a start.
I made an appointment at Crossroads Orthopedics for tomorrow morning. We'll see how that turns out. I don't think there is anything structurally wrong in there, as there was no recent trauma that would have precipitated such a reaction. So hopefully I can get out of there with a diagnosis and some hope that this crap will pass quickly and without incident. I think that the worst that can come of this, after doing a few hours of internet based research (the MOST reliable kind), is that I have sort of arthritic mayhem going on in there and should probably get a shit ton of Aleve to remedy my condition. Actually, the worst case scenario is that I need another surgery and have to be on the disabled list for 3 months again.
Fuck that noise.
SD.
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