SUNDAY, RATHER BORING SUNDAY

The Long Dark Teatime Of The Soul

So it is Sunday. I went to see RULES OF THE GAME at Film Forum (gorgeous new print) and unfortunately couldn't quite unwind enough to enjoy it. There was an annoying static sound throughout the opening scenes, and then the obligatory fat bastard stuffing his face with candy bars and rattling each and every candy bar for maximum irritation. To be fair, the fat bastard did make an effort to be quiet after I politely asked him to keep the wrappers quiet. Mercifully the rest of the screening went off very well. I managed to get a lot of enjoyment out of the film, and will almost certainly see it again in the next week or so that it is there.

We're seeing BORAT tonight. I'll let you know.

I'm rather liking the new job. It isn't the busiest position ever. I basically answer the occasional phone, send the occasional fax, and forward the occasional bit of paper elsewhere. I'm veering back and forth between exhiliration and concern. On the one hand, I can't believe I'm getting paid what I'm getting paid for not doing a hell of a lot all day. On the other, I can't believe they're going to continue paying me fornot doing a hell of a lot all day. I've got enough of a work ethic to want to be busy, to not be ripping this firm off. But I don't get too worried. See, it goes like this:

I am 43 years old. I've been working in one job or another since I was 17, which means I've been a member of the workforce for 26 years. I've had very busy positions, for which I've been paid very little, and over the last 5 years there's been a good deal of HORROR in the two most recent jobs I've held. The first involved working for a boss popularly known as the Fat Disgusting Bitch (when not called the Fat Heifer, the Fat Sow, or my own favorite the Fat Disgusting Cunt). After almost five years of performing wonders for them (if I do say so myself, and I bloody well do) I left the job with the Fat Disgusting Bitch (long story, harassment on FaDiBi's end, threatened lawsuit on my end, I'll tell you if you're really interested and I can't imagine anyone really is) for a very interesting job with a very demanding boss (Control Freak hereafter). On my first day working for Control Freak, I was congratulated on returning from my first lunch hour: more than one of my predecessors had not. Working for Control Freak was certainly better than working for FaDiBi, but still with a disproportionate amount of stress. Control Freak has the kind of faith in ORGANIZATION and EFFICIENCY that only the deeply dis-organized and wildly in-efficient ever really have. My co-worker and I were effectively crippled by an unbelievable set of Processes and Procedures that wound up more of an impediment than anything else. Example: my To-Do list was (I'm not kidding) 75 pages long. When Control Freak laid me off I didn't exactly cry myself to sleep. By this time I was so emotionally drained by just the work I was doing every day that the prospect of temping was actually tempting.

I am going on here, aren't I? Long story short: I'm now getting paid 25% more than I've ever made for doing 75% less work than I've ever had to do. The occasional twinge of guilt remains both occasional and twinge-level; never more than a quick itch of guilt, easily scratched. I've earned a breather, and if a big firm wants to give me what amounts to an extended paid vacation, well, I'm not gonna say them nay.

Sue me.

I'll post on BORAT and RULES OF THE GAME later this week (RULES will require another viewing uncursed by static and candy wrappers). Bob and I are also seeing the musical of GREY GARDENS this week, which I'm simultaneously looking forward to and dreading terribly.