It’s A Beautiful Day, Enjoy It While You Can


Pic of the day:  Woman with a parasol, by Claude Monet

Claude_Monet_011

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Aloof with hermit-eye I scan
The present works of present man —
A wild and dreamlike trade of blood and guile,
Too foolish for a tear, too wicked for a smile!

Samuel Taylor Coleridge, Ode to Tranquility

____________________

The sun is up and I am writing.  Kind of an odd thing for me to be doing, I usually write at night after all, the daylight is normally for more active and outdoor pursuits; running , walking and the like.

I haven’t run in three days, might run later, before the sun sets.  Not 100% certain about that though.  Running is fun, I really do enjoy it, but I guess I am getting old.  And what I mean by that is that I no longer have the urge to go out there and break my ass the way I used to out there.  The fact that almost every run hurts on some level somewhere makes it harder to enjoy.  I need new running shoes, that would make things less painful, but I haven’t the money to buy even a crap pair of shoes at this point.

I’ve sent all the resumes out to all the places that I could find that looked like their needs (art handler/mover) and mine (a job that pays enough to pay the bills) meet in such a way as to make both of our lives easier.  Sad to say that there were only two places that met those not very stringent requirements.  Well there was a third but it looked like a scam to me, and I never give my Soc. Sec. number to anyone without knowing who they are.  I try to send in as many resumes as I possibly can to as many places as I can, and I am not done for the day, but I am done for the moment.

Quizzes and form filing is a hairy pain in the ass that has to be dealt with when doing this stuff.  Not difficult, not by any stretch of the imagination, but the person doing it gets little out of it.  99% of the time I never even get a call back from these people.  Low incentive tasks are not the stuff that dream jobs and careers are made of.   Putting this crap out at the very beginning of the process of getting the job doesn’t to my mind bode well in any way whatsoever.  These places can do better, but they don’t, because they simply don’t get it.  I am more than just a machine to move your stuff, dammit.

I’ve gone to the store to get all the things that my wife and I need to live our lives that we didn’t already have around the apartment. Not much stuff, a few small things.  I never spend a lot of money when I go out on these errands.  I hate spending money, especially as I barely have any at this point in my life.

So here I sit, writing…

When I should be out there enjoying the beautiful day while I can, before winter shows up in earnest, before the inevitable full time work shows up making it impossible for me to do while the sun is up.

I’m going to head out to run in a little bit (pain be damned) and then back to the job search.  I’ve been staring at screens all day, and I hate when that happens.  Too much of that in my life, too much sedentary crap, just sitting around staring at words on screens while life is passing me by.

Enough.

I have things to do.  I can write more later, and I will.  Much work is there to do yet on the novel I was working on, much work.

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That’s it from here, America.  G’night.

 

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