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Maybe this is catharsis. I'm surely not proud to admit this to the well of the internet, to the handful of people who have probably stopped checking this because it's been so long since an update, or to the people who pop by here for a brief second before realizing that there is no real sandwich machine, but like picking a scab or standing on a sore leg to hope the pain dulls, away I go.
I got fired. They didn't actually use the words, "You suck." Hell, they didn't even use the words, "Your fired." They phrase it like a favor, "We're letting you go." Really? I get to go? Where am I going, is it cool? No, it's a one way ticket to Shametown, population, me.
It's not as drastic as it would have been in my pre-freelance world. It was only a job I would have had for 10 days, and I already had worked two of the days. But I really could have used the money from the remaining eight, and even if it was temporary it's still a blow to the mighty pride.
I've done all the usual things. Rationalized-it was a disorganized shoot anyway, and now I'm saved the bother. I'm not worthless, I turned down three other jobs to take this one (that stings a bit, since I would really be working right now...), I have another job coming up on the 3rd, I'll be fine. They'll be worse off now than if they kept me, it was my first time as an official grip and I was bound to be out of my element, etc.
I've blamed it on them-of course I don't know where all your equipment is, you didn't give me a call time, contact info, or location. I had to hunt you down on the first day. We didn't have time to move the equipment to my van much less do an inventory. So yeah, on the first couple of days it's going to take me a while to find shit. You have bigger problems than me, I'm not the reason you're behind schedule.
But the reality is, a more experienced grip would still have been faster. On some level they where right. And there the nerve ending attached to pride starts to twinge. And it hits even harder when it's my 'real job,' not some Joe Job I could give a shit about while working my way through college.
But these things happen. I keep telling myself I can't live and die by one job. Maybe if I say it enough times I'll believe it again.
Service Vehicle Hot Rods
6 years ago
"Bad day, fuck it."
ReplyDeleteCondolences.
ReplyDeleteI say, take it for fate and make something magical happen during these days when you WOULD HAVE been busy working: go do something fun and crazy. Jump from a plane. Surf with sharks. Buy a pet capuchin and teach him to bite the head off of a "guy who fired me" doll. Go hang out where people hang out and talk to some people who look like fun.
Eat fugu.
Go crazy. :-)
Mmmmm, cappuccino is the best tasting monkey. Yummy!
ReplyDeleteAh yes. Life in the at-will paradise that is NoCal. "Figure out what we want, and do it the way we're thinking, and above all MAKE US FEEL GOOD ABOUT THINGS. Or you're fired."
ReplyDeleteThis is why we left. Yeah, it always worked out, there was always another job before savings ran out, there was always some other thing coming up.
But at some point a person gets tired of not being able to do basic human things. Like start a new job, learn it and grow as a result, improve at it, get really good at it, and have a sense of control over their destiny, in the form of developing marketable skills. No, today you are there at the employer's will, their obligations are nothing, and managers don't manage.
(We left during the Cavalcade o' Horse Hockey known as the Dot Boom. Got sick of being on call 24/7, having no home life, having no energy to develop personal relationships or a private life. Got sick of having "managers" constantly coming to us, asking us to engineer technical solutions to a) social problems and b) their inability manage, since they weren't getting paid to manage, but to make each other, and their owners, feel good in meetings.)
Well. You've been made into yet another brick in the vast heavy foundation of globalization's race to the bottom. There is no room for people in it, just a constant supply of interswappable cogs in humanoid form.
No wonder you feel dehumanized.
No trite perky suggestions here. There's no fun in this, nor should there be, nor should it be papered over with trained monkeys.
And no matter how much you mull it over in your head, how many good words you find to express your thoughts and feelings, there will always be some little worm of rebellion in your gut roaring "NO! WRONG!" That little worm is absolutely correct. But we are not allowed to heed that little worm, and most people drug themselves into stupor to try not to hear it (drugs, alcohol, sex, shopping, rush, baybeez...any addiction will do). Those who DO heed it are sneered at, often by those who most need to listen to theirs. Class war is based on the suppression of class rage.
Just remember, it's not you that sucks. It's the whole fucking system.
Ah yes. Life in the at-will paradise that is NoCal. "Figure out what we want, and do it the way we're thinking, and above all MAKE US FEEL GOOD ABOUT THINGS. Or you're fired."
ReplyDeleteThis is why we left. Yeah, it always worked out, there was always another job before savings ran out, there was always some other thing coming up.
But at some point a person gets tired of not being able to do basic human things. Like start a new job, learn it and grow as a result, improve at it, get really good at it, and have a sense of control over their destiny, in the form of developing marketable skills. No, today you are there at the employer's will, their obligations are nothing, and managers don't manage.
(We left during the Cavalcade o' Horse Hockey known as the Dot Boom. Got sick of being on call 24/7, having no home life, having no energy to develop personal relationships or a private life. Got sick of having "managers" constantly coming to us, asking us to engineer technical solutions to a) social problems and b) their inability manage, since they weren't getting paid to manage, but to make each other, and their owners, feel good in meetings.)
Well. You've been made into yet another brick in the vast heavy foundation of globalization's race to the bottom. There is no room for people in it, just a constant supply of interswappable cogs in humanoid form.
No wonder you feel dehumanized.
No trite perky suggestions here. There's no fun in this, nor should there be, nor should it be papered over with trained monkeys.
And no matter how much you mull it over in your head, how many good words you find to express your thoughts and feelings, there will always be some little worm of rebellion in your gut roaring "NO! WRONG!" That little worm is absolutely correct. But we are not allowed to heed that little worm, and most people drug themselves into stupor to try not to hear it (drugs, alcohol, sex, shopping, rush, baybeez...any addiction will do). Those who DO heed it are sneered at, often by those who most need to listen to theirs. Class war is based on the suppression of class rage.
Just remember, it's not you that sucks. It's the whole fucking system.