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More Cuts -- 06.22.09
Damn, I canít even remember the last time I updated here. Itís been nearly a month, a hectic month. Iíve been working extra hours at Glendale. Iíve been doing 12 hour days on Tuesdays, and occasional Wednesdays throughout this past month. But, itís all going to end next week. The new fiscal year is starting and my extra hours are going far away. And, just to shit on me some more, San Marinoís new schedule also starts. They told us a couple of months back that they were going to change the schedule, so that no one works more than four hours a day. In my case I get to travel all the way out there to work a four hour shift. Fucking awesome. And if you canít tell Iím being super fucking sarcastic. The reasoning behind is is pure upstairs management bullshit. The short of it is, my hours have been cut from 16.5 to 13 a week there. Combine that with a drop from 20 to 15 at Glendale, and I wonít be seeing the couple of hundred extra dollars I WAS seeing each pay period. Suffice to say Iím fucked. I joke that Iíll be selling my blood, but itís no joke now. There isnít any other way that I can make up for those extra dollars not showing up in my pocket anymore.

I got nice and drunk at the work party this past weekend. I just wanted to not feel any ďpain.Ē My co-workers worried about me and wouldnít let me go home until I sobered up. I was planning on sleeping in my car until I was nice and sober, but Iím glad that my co-workers cared enough to take my keys away. They didnít have to know that I had a spare key in the drunk. Whatever, it was a good time.

Today I got the go ahead to print out some of my photos for Robbin, the girl I met at the Ice House a few months back. Sheís buying my work, which makes me a bona fide professional bitches. Yeah sure. Iím just happy that she loves my work enough to pay for it. If I wasnít so bitter I would want to fall for her. But weíve been down THAT mother-fucking road before... Iím not doing that. I know that if I let my guard down Iíll fall, and thatís going to be like flying too close to the fucking sun. No thanks.

Speaking of other messed up shit... for months Iíve waited for an iPhone app that would let me listen to Sirius. At the beginning of the year I saw that there was one in development. It looked good. The group that was making it said that they the app would be ready some time in March, maybe April. Well, April came and went without the app. Turned out that Apple didnít approve it. Turned out that supposedly Sirius was going to come out with their own app. So, I waited. I get this in my email inbox last week.

What they fail to mention is that Howard Stern, the main reason I got Sirius in the first place, isnít available on the Sirius app. Oh, and you have to pay extra to get the app to work. I love Sirius, but this is total bullshit. Notice a pattern here? Everything is just a notch below substandard. The one thing that a majority of listeners to Sirius want to listen to isnít even available. Thatís just stupid. Howard took a call from someone that mentioned that his show wasnít on the app. He mentioned some contractual restrictions that prevented his channel from being available on the app. Well, whatever. I still listen to the show on my iPod after recording it in the morning. But it just sucks that things have to be this way.

Shit, Iím hungry now. I need to be asleep in less than an hour and Iím hungry now. I guess I best stop writing here and start getting something to eat in my belly. Tomorrow is the last long day Iíll have to deal with in a long time. Ah, before I go though, I should mention that my San Marino job is going to have a new opening. The new job would be as library assistant, and would involve cataloging books and also working a few hours on the reference desk. It is quite literally the next logical step in my move towards librarian. I would gain invaluable experience at the reference desk, work in processing away from the patrons, and get to work my full allotment of hours per week. It would definitely be good times. Iím going hard at this job.

End Communication.

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