Homeless - 39

Greetings, fellow terrestrial companions,

Hope your time is passing well, that your cup of laughter and loving doth indeed overflow upon thy carpet. With me, it could be better, could be worse.

I detailed Black Thunder last week, something I haven't done since my current lifestyle descended upon me in a such a gentle, soothing fashion. A benefactor loaned me some hand wax which was utilized to a devastating effect. For a couple of days, I was on the hunt for a free wash and vacuum but the opportunity didn't present itself so I girded the loins and spent $4.25 at a do-it-yourself thingy, one of those that beep at you constantly for more quarters, not unlike the bleating of a lap dancer at 2 AM on a Saturday night...from what I've read. After the initial wet down, I activated the foaming brush and commenced scrubbing BT like a rabid beaver under the influence of Peruvian marching powder. Afterward, I emptied the cab of contents and vacuumed the interior, experiencing some dismay at the quantity of grey hair that was present. I cleaned and conditioned the leather/vinyl interior which was very much needed - even broke out some Q-tips for a thorough cleansing of every crack and crevice in the cockpit...errr, the instrument dashboard. It did take some scouting to locate the necessary shade at 2 PM on a sunny Dallas day to properly execute the hand waxing procedure. After dressing the tires, cleaning the rims and windows...my god, what a machine! Post inspection revealed a spotless interior smelling factory fresh; an ebony hull that is slicker than snail snot, reflecting the surrounding environment with a depth and clarity rivaling showroom quality; in short, a technological entity pausing majestically in the cool shade awaiting to unleash the dormant power within. Of course, such cleaning always adds a few more horsepower. Wait...what's that I hear? But, David, you just cleaned the surfaces; you didn't do anything to the engine! Now, I could blind you with science by showing you a page and a half of mathematical equations straight from the discipline of quantum mechanics to prove my point but instead, I'm going to ask a question to illustrate. After a shower, pedicure, manicure, hair style, deep tissue massage, hot wet kisses, some knockdown/hair pulling/toe curling/screaming gorilla sex, etc. - don't you 'run better'? Yeah, I thought so...


There are several reoccurring elements in my world that I enjoy and one of them is a large cat that I have been seeing on a regular basis over the past several weeks. I have a couple of places that I pause at around dusk, both are public parking lots with retail activity nearby and plenty of traffic. I see the feline just after dusk at the the larger lot, walking close to vegetation that lines the concrete boundaries. Around 9 PM I retire to the camping spot and I see the same cat a bit later crossing that lot. There have been several times when I've been awake around 4:30 AM that I see that same cat retracing its route, presumably returning to home base. I've never seen it run or move furtively from cover to cover as I would have with so many fast moving vehicles with sometimes unpredictable vectors; oh no...this cat saunters across the lots with a sinewy confidence that it owns those properties and anything in its' territory is there only because of its' good graces...to which I am thankful. I can take on an oiled anaconda with pretty good odds of winning but a cat protecting its' territory is quite another thing and not to be entertained lightly.

OK, let's check the employment scorecard. I've been enduring this lifestyle for nearly 6 months. It doesn't seem that long from my perspective but I guess time flies when you having such a bitchin' disco time, eh? Of all the applications that I filled out, the last nibble is from a convenience store where I applied for a part time position. One of the personnel that works there told me that the store manager sent my application to corporate for the further processing and 'that I could be getting a call soon'. When I began dealing with this chapter in my life, I thought that I would have a job within 4 weeks at the very latest. Maybe that thought was a reflection of my over confidence and/or arrogance. Yes, I'm still optimistic, still have my sense of humor and have yet to sink to the depths of despair, apathy or any other dark demons that exist within the human ego. I can only speculate as to way I'm not yet unemployed:


1) Since my education and experience over qualifies me for the positions that I've been applying for, the hiring manager may have the idea that as soon as a position is offered in the IT field that I would return to the much higher salary and more challenging and satisfying work. That has a low probability of occurring if that option presented itself due to my previously stated goals. It has been suggested by a benefactor that I should let a prospective employer know of my goals and that I can be relied on to remain with them for an appreciable amount of time...which I will from this point forward on all job applications and/or when I talk with the hiring manager.

2) I thought that it might be because of my appearance - the long hair. Then I thought that it can't be that due to the many people these days that have tattoos and god-knows-what-body-parts skewered by whatever implement - long hair should be a non-issue. Hygiene is decent. I may not be a Brad Pitt but I'm not a Marty Feldman either.

3) I talked with a retired gentleman I see at the library frequently who volunteers with the DPL system one day about my employment situation. He mentioned that many managers do not want to hire someone whose education and business experience exceeds their own because it would intimidate them; they are afraid that they would be perceived as idiots and/or incompetent. I'm thinking that that may apply to some but surely not to all.

4) Maybe they noticed the length of time that I've been unemployed and have the idea that something is wrong with me, that I've been a guest of the state sharing a cell with Tyrone and Bubba or in a lavishly padded cell communicating with our fairy friends in the 8th dimension. It seems that they would at least check my references before jumping to conclusions; at least to fulfill a professional curiosity. And besides, I paid my references good money to embellish on my behalf.

Maybe I should expand the boundaries of my search and reconsider some occupations that I have excluded due to some personal moral difficulty that I would have performing those duties. I've read, from more that one source, where approximately 3 out of 4 people hate their job. The surveys didn't go into detail about the 'whys'. Was it because of the corporate policies, the industry the corporation was in, managerial dysfunction and/or ineptness, unsatisfactory interpersonal relationships with co-workers, extended work hours or work not suited to their liking/skill set? Regardless, it is a pity that so much time is utilized at an effort that is not fulfilling. I know, I know...bills have to paid but the price that that kind of job extracts from us in an emotional/psychological context could be viewed as horrendously expensive to our well-being. Should I sacrifice a part of myself, as 3 out of 4 people do, and go to an environment that I dislike? I don't want to spend my remaining time that way. Ah well....in the meantime, I'll keep forging ahead with what I have and who I am.

A few nights ago, I had a craving for a sweet. Rummaging through BT's on board pantry yielded a fortune cookie that I had no idea of how long its' been there but it did satisfy my sweet tooth. I read the fortune - 'You will never need to worry about a steady income'. To say that that tidbit provided me with a few moments of mirth would be a gross understatement. My abs were a bit tender the next day from my ensuring laughter. If anyone was around to observe my behavior at that time, they would have concluded that I was nuts and readied a hypo of Thorazine. I haven't laughed like that in awhile, to which I give thanks to the spirit of the universe. Now, that fortune could be interpreted a few ways: a) that an 'abrupt contract termination', or variation thereof, is imminent, b) that significant financial resources will soon be at my disposal, c) that I will delete the element of worry from my life and/or d) we all are going to die a horrible death at the slimy tentacles of the invading hostile alien space armada.

In the event of 'd', all I can say is good luck to ya'll at the Armageddon hoedown.

David