Monday, September 25, 2006

"You Suck."

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.