I've also gotten a job.
Has my opinion changed? No. The blog is still relevant. A quick search of Netshops related items on the ol' net showed me that. Want proof?
The Caleb's LiveJournal blog
New and Unimproved. [Apr. 22nd, 2007|08:32 am]
[ mood | jubilant ]
[ music | Crazy Train - Ozzy ]
Seeing as I have some time before my shift starts, I figured I'd do some blogging, because that's just the kind of time-wasting, internet driven guy I am.
I'm still working at Netshops. Things are getting hectic here. We're understaffed due to our last lay-off. I honestly don't see how I can waste as much time at work as I do and still be working for the company. They fired a large number of people who were far more qualified than I for the position I hold, however I guess I'm better at PRETENDING to care about my job than they were. And, truth be told, I DO care, but only so far as my paycheck is concerned.
I'm moving out of my house on the first. I think I might just be becoming a pro at this whole "organizing, packing and getting the hell outta there" thing. On the plus side, I'm really happy with the apartment I got. It has 200 feet more floorspace than the living area of my house does, plus pool, gym and daycare nearby. It'll be good.
They talked to me yesterday about how I might be forced into taking a promotion, which sucks. The way they put it to me was basically as follows: "Well, if you DON'T take the job, we'll just change your job description so that you're doing the job anyhow." Those fucking fuckers.
So the place I work at is basically an online mall. One store in particular is fairly popular "www.Barstools.com"
A few weeks ago I get this call from a customer, and the conversation was as follows:
"Thank you for calling Barstools.com. My name is Caleb. What can I do for you today?"
"I need to return my barstool. It's defective."
"Alright, sir. If you could please, describe the nature of the defect your item has sustained?"
"Every time I sit down, the stool makes it smell like fish."
".......Excuse me?"
"Fish, damn it! Every time I sit down, it smells like fish. I need to return it."
How, exactly, do you handle that situation? We obviously didn't accept the return based on the grounds that the customer smelled fish every time he sat down, but he sounded so earnest that I believe him.
God. Tired. Cigarette. Laterz.
Oooh. That was good. Promote Caleb! He certainly cares about the company - at least, as far as his paycheck. If he's promoted, he can handle all the calls from customers complaining about their fishy smelling barstools. He could be the fishy smelling barstool store expert. ....Gotta check to see if anyone owns that domain name and grab it before Doug does....
How about this one:
Public Display of Infection [Feb. 24th, 2007|07:14 am]
[ mood | high ]
[ music | A Cacophony of Thoughts ]
...You end up taking advantage of yourself. Playing to your own weaknesses, fully aware of what they are. You give in to the quick-fix. The heartbreak. The car wreck, the graveyard, the prison and tobacco... the booze... Then you wake up one day to find yourself on a bar stool at the bottom of the social heap talking to women whose mouths are crimson and gaping like the war wounds your father described when he was alive and drunk and you were a child. This is no place to be.
So you get a job, get a car, get a life, get an education, get wise and get to church. You play and pray and pay and do all the things they say you gotta and your life is still shit. Another approach.
You stop giving a shit and get hooked on the carefree abandon of despair. Drive fast, drink hard, stay awake or else you'll miss it. Find a dangerous lady with a smile colder than a die-hard Catholic at a Democratic convention, then use her to get over the last lady who confined you to the prison of her arms. Your will dies screaming and you slide farther into the pit.
All this dramatic nonsense leads to hurting the same way sex leads to hate and you find yourself back at the bar wondering why you can't wake up in your dreams. It comes down to the things that can't fuck you over: Old cars, old hats, cigarettes, friends long gone whose memories make you smile. That is, until you realize that you ain't the king of anything. All the dreams you planted as a child grew into weeds and nothing is more heartbreaking than having to trim them down.
Rambling due to being high and at work. Later, muddafuckahs.
Yes, you read that right. He's 'rabling due to being high and at work.' Obviously a good choice of someone to promote and keep with the company.
The people who make decisions at Netshops still don't have a clue. I've run into a number of ex-Netshoppers recenly and I'm amazed by the people laid off back in February. People with talent. People who knew what the hell they were doing. People who worked their asses off for Doug, Julie, and Mark (and the investors who drive everything Doug, Julie and Mark do). People who were single and people who had families to take care of.
Is it any wonder many of the people who were with the company at the beginning have left to pursue other opportunities? I should have recognized it sooner, but I was, unfortunately happy and trusting of Doug and Co. Silly me.
So, for those of you still at Netshops, start looking. Update that resume. Get your name out there to friends and family - let them know you need a new job. Start contacting temp agencies. Get them working on finding you a new job.
Of course, if you want to be promoted, you need to be high and blogging while at work.
2 comments:
For the past few weeks I've wanted to ask if you stopped blogging because you found a job, but I would have felt like a jerk if the answer was "no". It's good to learn that things are working out for you.
I can also envision some execs as Netshops mentally cursing your return to bloggin.
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