It's gonna be cold, it's gonna be grey, and it's gonna last you for the rest of your life

Me: They get paid more than I do and I have too much to do as it is. I can't be their scheduler too.
Her: Well your and my jobs are kind of gray.
Me: They are what?
Her: They are gray, not black or white.

Phil: You want a prediction about the weather, you're asking the wrong Phil. I'll give you a winter prediction: It's gonna be cold, it's gonna be grey, and it's gonna last you for the rest of your life.

I shit you not.

I like to start my day out with a cigarette. When I get to work I get the immediate issues out of the way and then I typically go out on the back porch and have a cigarette to unwind a bit. The road beside where I work is a 55 mph state highway so we'll sometimes find odd things that blew off the back of trucks or whatever. A couple weeks ago I found an empty bag that once contiained Purina Horse Chow. I shit you not. I wasn't even aware there was such a thing. But there was and on my morning constitutional I put the bag in our trash can no big deal.

Today was no exception to my desire to get out of doors and I ended up on the back porch about 8:30 this morning. In the yard I noticed something black that, through the fog, appeared to be some sort of lava rock or maybe black garbage bags. Having nothing better to do I cautiously approached to investigate. I'm a curious boy. Lo and behold it was a big bird. I'm not very good with bird taxonomy so I walked back to the office and recruited a few coworkers to help me identify the nature of the beast. They all agreed it was a buzzard and it was likely hit on the road while eating a rabbit. I didn't realize there was a rabbit on the road but hey, who am I to question.

I asked what we should do with it and among the things I heard was:
You can't take it to the landfill.
You'll get arrested if you are caught killing one.
Throw it over the bank.
Whether or not the 1st two were true, the 3rd one was a workable plan.

As it turns out it was an American Black Vulture and I find that they are covered under the Migratory Bird Treaty Act of 1918. I didn't realize we were sitting down with birds and drawing up treaties in 1918. Wasn't that the year we all got the flu and died? And they recently linked that flu to the bird flu? I'm starting to get a bad feeling about these birds and all they entail. I shit you not.

Rocky 34

I think I gave up just a little bit.

I'm back now, the fighter, the one that gets what he wants by working for it. I guess I was in kind of a funk from the whole change in location, pay, and availability of friends. I guess I could attribute it to a million things but the short and long is that I'm back on top. Just call me bootstrap JohnCub.

Pintel: [angry] I'm telling the story. So, what Barbossa did is, he tied a cannon to Bootstrap's bootstraps.

It feels good. Welcome back, me.

Good god I'm sorry this sounds so bloggy. Feel free to mod me down.

Michael, I did nothing. I did absolutely nothing, and it was everything that I thought it could be.

The thing about work is that I just don't like it anymore. I guess we all go through times when we don't really like our jobs. If you're a zig ziglar fanboi then you'll respond with something like "Then you aren't being challenged" or "Your motivation needs to shift" or some other such crap. I'm obviously not a fanboi. I've studied up on how to manage my micromanager and I now know how to avoid the confrontations that I dislike so much. But I'm weary of it. This is my first job I have ever had that I honestly had a micromanager. It has taught me that I am definitely not a micromanager. Honestly I'm likely the absolute converse of one. When I have to I tell someone what to do and I expect they will get it done. If they don't I do it myself and I try not to say anything about it. But to have someone tell me what color marker to use on my dry erase board?

Samir: Mother... shitter... Son of an... ass. I just...

I've given this a whole lot of thought lately. What would I like to do? Well I enjoyed my previous job, or at least I enjoyed it more than I do this one. My boss was a good guy. He knew I knew how and when to do my job and there was some mutual respect. The hours sucked and I felt like I was owned by the client but that was as much my fault as anyone's. I was hourly. I knew overtime was the time to make the money and I capitalized on that as much as I could.

Peter Gibbons: The thing is, Bob, it's not that I'm lazy, it's that I just don't care.

I guess there are things I wouldn't mind doing. I'd kind of like to be a hot dog vendor. I could even go for having a hot dog shop. I'd model it after my favorite restaurant in the whole wide world. It's a Greek family's restaurant from my home town. They made hot dogs, burgers, served draft and bottled beers, and just had a nice little restaurant. I'm not much on food service either. My only experience in food service... Hmm, there was the pre-teen dishwashing gig at my grandmother's restaurant for quarters for the jukebox and pinball machine, there was the dishwashing in college for way not enough money and then I did work at Subway for one day. I respectfully quit. I told them, "I really like to eat your food but I sure don't like making it." I figure the hot dog gig would be good because people don't eat hot dogs for breakfast and very few have them for supper so I'd be looking at sleeping in every day, big lunch time rush, and then some people in for burgers and beers in the afternoons.

Peter Gibbons: So I was sitting in my cubicle today, and I realized, ever since I started working, every single day of my life has been worse than the day before it. So that means that every single day that you see me, that's on the worst day of my life.
Dr. Swanson: What about today? Is today the worst day of your life?
Peter Gibbons: Yeah.
Dr. Swanson: Wow, that's messed up.

So I've been playing the lottery. I've never been much of a gambler myself. I understand odds and statistics. But as far as I can tell it's my only way out. Yeah, I could go find another job but considering I haven't decided what it is I want to do for the rest of my life, I'm just as well off winning the lottery and saying goodbye to the whole racket. I'm not going to tell you my life won't change. But I wouldn't quit my job. I'd hire someone to do it for me.

Not right now, Lumbergh, I'm kinda busy. In fact, look, I'm gonna have to ask you to just go ahead and come back another time. I got a meeting with the Bobs in a couple of minutes.

Location Location Location

Realtors will tell you the three most important factors in real estate are:

1. Location
2. Location
3. Location

I'd say everyone in the free world has heard this. And yet... Pick up one of those realty magazines that are at the grocery store, gas station, pretty much anywhere you'd stop your car. They're everywhere. They're free. They're online. They'll mail them to your address if you ask them. They'll send you one from some other state or city (or market as they call it) but they are all the same. They show houses that most people can't afford. Sometimes they tell you how many acres, and often tell you how many bedrooms and bathrooms the property has. The one single thing they almost never tell you? The location. Most times they don't even tell you what town the property is in, let alone where the property is at in that town. Location Location Location. BS. BS. BS.

Why does this matter to little ol' me? Well I have a little rule. I won't live west of work. I do not wish to spend the rest of my natural life driving into the sun. Maybe for others it has something to do with not living in a crack house neighborhood. My needs are easy. Home must be east of work. And yet, finding that information without having to engage in a conversation with a realtor is typically not available.

I get the feeling that the realty market is only steps above the new car market... which is of course only one step above the used car market.