This is MY Pity Party so leave your own shit at the door.
Let's see, I spent Christmas and New Years passing three kidney stones and having a stint shoved in me to drain my kidney. I think Santa mixed my stocking up with my kidney when he left me the coal I must have had coming. Next year I will be waiting up for the fat bastard with some rope and a branding iron.
No sooner do I get better than the wife gets a virus that turns into pnuemonia in a matter of days.
I'm overdue for another damn nerve block which I need much sooner than I should. SUrgery is imminent if I want to go to a hack because my neurologist doesn't want the responsibilty of making me even more reasonable. I have gotten SO uded to the pain I just use it to keep me grounded.
I still have the two gall stones and two prostate stones to contend with. WHO THE HELL gets PROSTATE stones? What is that? God's way of saying "There are things I can do to you you can't even make-up?'
Work is..whats the word....hmmm..it just needs to stop. Our company has taken the paths of many and decided we can do more with less. My duaghter grows in leaps and bounds while I am out until midnite three quarters of the week and recovering the rest.
Today..I saw an 'out'. One of our customers is hiring a Graphics Artist.
What the hell was I thinking?
I didn't know when I would get another chance. The only reason I was there at seven a.m. this morning is because my crew didn't bother to show up last night. So, I figured it's now or never.
No formal training. No resume or portfolio. No chance in hell.
I pitched them. I did all but beg for a chance. I pulled up my gallery (I imagine after I was gone they all got a great chuckle out of this) I even told them what I would like to make and what I would settle for. (They must have rolled on the floor howling over that) I explained that graphics was my first love and I wanted the oppurtunity to do something I love and could pour my heart into. (Insert huge gafaw here.)
Sigh. I don't know if he was being nice about my 'art' (Is it art?) or just humoring me, but the problem was my lack (COmplete and utter lack) of any experience on MacIntosh. (The whole place is networked on it) I looked at him and said 'I could say a lot of things, but I can't even lie and say I could learn it because I haven't even touched one." (NOW! HIt me in the head with a ballpeen NOW!)
THEN......our company salesman shows up in the middle of all this (waiting in the lobby) and I am making my pitch in nervous staccato of turretts because I have no time to back track and fix all the gafs I just made.
Long story short...He liked my work and called it 'good' but said they had 4 other strong candidates with Mac experience. They were nice about it.
Why do I bother and why...WHY do I let my passion get the better of me?
Yeah, everybody has it worse than me and I should shut up. I know. But...I dunno. To be able to do what you love, ya know? To get out of the rut and rat race of something that you find very little satisfaction in anymore and is going nowhere. Even if it's chance to find out I don't have what it takes. Maybe this will help me to finnally bury these stupid dreams.
Okay. That's the end of the Pity Party. Finish your damn drinks and get out.