Wednesday, June 6, 2007

Working Man

Dear Diary: Sorry I haven't written in a while. Spent the last couple weeks working as a substitute teaching in various LA schools. Subbing pays pretty well out here, thought it definitely has its good points and bad points.

I've been looking for a full time teaching job for the better part of what I hate to admit is going on two years now. Have had (quite) a few interviews, but for whatever reason (my wife has some theories of her own), I haven't landed anything permanent yet.

Taking a gamble next week by flying out to North Carolina to look for teaching jobs out there. Apparently, they actually have some, as opposed to Los Angeles, where they have their pick of about two dozen instructors for every position that opens up.

Starting to question whether it will be worth it to spend the extra money to look for work out there, but I had already bought the plane tickets before I quit my job, and think I would like living in a place where houses there now cost the same as they did in Southern California back in 1964.

Have also been thinking this week about the things I won't miss at my former job. Like the Christmas party where everyone gets really drunk and acts like idiots, and where my boss gets up every year to deliver an inspirational three-word speech.

Also, I certainly won't miss going through the excruciating process of filling out the the self-assessment portion of my yearly performance review, which for the last three years was strictly a cut-and-paste affair, since nothing much ever changed at my job from year to year except for my supervisors.

Finally, I won't miss sitting through twenty hours of bullshit CYA "safety training," which for some reason included four hours of forklift training videos for a job site that didn't even have a forklift. So that it won't be a total loss, I guess I should at least inform my readers that you should never give anybody a ride on the forks of your imaginary forklift, even if they ask you nicely...

I get up at seven, yeah
And I go to work at nine
I got no time for livin'
Yes, I'm workin' all the time

It seems to me
I could live my life
A lot better than I think I am
I guess that's why they call me
They call me the workin' man


"Working Man" was performed by Rush

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