This will be the final blog. I know I promised some of the stories from events that happened prior to the blog's creation. I know I promised stories that never made it to the blog. However, something has changed. I don't care.
Of course I still care about you beautiful, literate people. It's just that I no longer dwell on that work related nonsense. I always knew it was petty and stupid but it the idiocy of it all gets magbnified tenfold when I'm no longer chained to that place.
The problem with my job was not only that it consumed by days but even when I left the building it would still consume me after hours. It didn't just steal my hours it invaded my psyche. Which really is the final straw. But now I'm free of all shit that and it feels great.
So now begins my travels around the world and my attempt to re-ignite my creative process.
Good luck guys and thanks for reading.
Signing off, D. Money
P.S. I might start a travel vlog. So keep an ear to the ground.
I don't mean to neglect thee but I've been having the time of my life. Jealous? You should be. As I've mentioned more than once my lease is up at the end of March and new adventures await.
Oh, what ever will I do? Would you believe I found a great deal on a ticket to Australia? It was almost the exact same dollar amount as my monthly rent. So I told my landlord to go fuck himself--not an exact quote--and so I'll be running round Australia for a month. Did I mention that I also get three flights WITHIN Australia as well as part of the package deal? Well I did! ... and I bought a ticket to New Zealand as well.
For my three vacations in 2008 the thing that killed me every time was coming back to my apartment after vacation and realizing I had to pay the rent for an apartment after I dropped crazy scratch on hotels, motels, Holiday Inns, on an apartment that was empty while I was in some foreign country. But no more. From April on, my only expenses are travel, lodging, food....oh, and toiletries, those are important. No rent, no cable, no electricity, no bullshit.
I must admit, my post-Happy Cappy Investment Team lifestyle (i.e., watching movies, wearing pajama bottoms most of the day, collecting government checks, NOT WORKING!!!) has left me little reason to keep posting. In a nutshell, I am incredibly happy right now, so honestly I'm not all that interested in complaining about an old job (it's no exaggeration to say that it seems like an old job in galaxy far, far away) that canned me. Water under the bridge, right? But you loyal reader, who perservere in your horrible job need to be entertained. I will provide that requirement for you folks. I will try to post more frequently until I run out of shit to say...or at least until April.
It's damn near good enough to make me the mascot of the HCIT if I do say so myself. I can see it now, I'll play a slide whistle every time the NYSE numbers come up on the tv and I'll wear a bear costume and beat my sidekick "Bully" to death at halftime.
I recently held a layoff party at the crib. The premise was simple, the guests bring canned goods so as I can east for the next month and I will provide them with a near-endless supply of the alcohol in my apartment.
The results were mixed (rimshot). On the plus side, the company was pleasant and I received a crate full of canned goods, with a lot of canned pineapple (yum). On the downside, people didn't wipe out all of my alcohol, which was part of the point (I don't want to move that shit when my lease is up). In all fairness they did go through about three-fourths of the bottles...and then we went to a bar (of course) so that we could pay for alcohol instead. Go figure.
Perhaps the week before I move out I'll throw a "Drink My Booze and Take Any Shit I Haven't Sold on eBay or Craig's List Yet" Party.
First, since I am out of work and doing as much as possible to keep it that way I decided to dye my hair. It was supposed to be the color of the Happy Cappy Investment Team logo but it ended up all green instead (appropriate, no?).
Second, as I mentioned before my lease is up on 4/1 and I'm not renewing. I'm so tired of moving my junk from one location to another over the years so I'm getting rid of most of it. I've been eBaying my life away: CDs, DVDs, books. It was hard at first but once you get going it gains a certain momentum. It becomes downright contagious. Do I really need all this stuff? Nope. I don't think I'll even need storage when I move out. I'll be down to so little that I think can stash a couple of things at this or that person's place.
I'm done with the bullshit (mostly). So now begins my new life. This is far more important than some New Year's resolution. This is a new life resolution. I feel like this is my last shot to not get stuck in some job that I'll hate or will make me hate myself.
I got the severance, I'm signed up with unemployment, my lease is up in two months. The goal: to prolong a new job as long as possible. In that time I plan to do many things: travel, write, read Capital Vol. 1, watch a whole lot of movies, brush up on my foreign language skills, figure out grad school plans, practice my instrument, get rid a lot of shit on eBay. Maybe I'll even do an internship. I'm drawing up a schedule later today for the month of February, assign a certain number of hours per day to various tasks. Come March I'll reassess and make a March schedule.
News from the dental world is that it's all good under the hood. Not one cavity. Not only that, because I didn't need to have anything done other than a cleaning and a check up I didn't have to drop any scrilla on a copay.
So Operation Check Up has been a rousing success: nothing but high marks from, the doc, the dentist and the dermi. (If you're wondering about my vision I had laser a couple years back and can see everything, like through walls and shit.)
I have gotten comments from the famous Anonymous! You may know Anonymous from such writings as Primary Colors (1996), Imperial Hubris (2004), and The Epic of Gilgamesh (2150-2000 BC), or E. Giggy as we used to call it back around the way. It goes without saying that to have a published author of such standing read my blog is truly a privilege.
But I cannot lie to you dear readers. Anon and I do not see eye-to-eye on some things. Below is a comment that Anon left in the comments section of "My Doorman Got Laid Off Too":
Hello, I stumbled upon your blog, and it seems to me as if it is the perfect outlet for you to blow off steam. I mean seriously, who would put a booger on the mail? Unfortunately, You remind of the mail clerk in the New York Lottery commercial where he walks around the office and talks about all the rich white people who get the "big bucks" but he's holding out to play for "jumbo bucks." Don't worry, I understand the irony you tried to impart on the blog: 90's wannabe tree hugging (only tree huggers post whiny blogs like this rather than actually find a job that enlightens their soul that also pays the big-- excuse me JUMBO bucks) hipster works for "the man" who makes six to seven figures. What I don't understand is how someone who seems intelligent enough write an eloquent blog cannot convey to the HCIT that mail cannot be overnighted to London. Grow a pair. I hope you enjoy your time off, and beware of splinters while making love to the cyprus in the park where you sip mint medley tea and read books by Dostoyevsky
Ouch! Well, at least Anon thought I was "intelligent enough." I responded with the following, (I've corrected two typos and added one joke, see forest fires):
Well, "Anonymous #1" I hope that you did not "stumble across" my blog on company time, that would be just plain wrong, a form of corporate thievery if you will. I will not condone such behavior.
As for this lottery commercial I cannot comment on it as I have not seen it but I will say this: the lottery seems a concentration of both the success and failure of capitalism. It is clearly a triumph in the ideological realm as just about everyone in the US accepts it as "logical" or "just" or "necessary." Even those who don't accept it putter along accepting its supposed inevitability. Yet it is also a failure. It is the the case that literally millions of people every week see their only hope of escape from the grind of capitalism's daily functions and relatively low pay (which is not six or seven figures for approximately 9/10 of the population) is by throwing their money away on the insanely small chance of "hitting it big."
As for the term "90's wannabe tree hugging" which I can only assume applies to me I find this phrase confusing. Were the '90s the pinnacle of tree hugging, was that our golden era? Shit, I missed out!
[Note to self: cancel treehugging session for later today. It's been done.]
Or wait, am I hipster? In this day and age calling someone a hipster is not unlike calling a woman a witch in Salem. To deny it is proof of guilt. I will avoid a critique of hipster culture as I'm sure you'll only take it as "self-deprecating irony." Wait did that just make me a hipster? Shit.
Perhaps I am a treehugging hipster that enjoys reading Dostoyevsky?
Maybe I'm being too hard on you. I didn't mean to imply that you read books as I know that might cause some embarrassment in your circle of rightwing blowhards. Perhaps your reference to my treehugging hipster persona was simply a throwback to when good Americans, proudly philistine, would throw together nonsensical slanders like "pinko hippie." (Seriously, either one's trying to take over the world through communist domination or one wants to hang out naked upstate smoking pot all day--which is it? They have very little in common).
Later on it seems to be implied that I want to be more than "just friends" with the trees as you caution me to "beware of splinters while making love to the cyprus in the park." Thank you for the tip. "Only you can prevent forest fires" takes on a whole new meaning here.
First, I must confess that although Anonymous #1 has painted a scary accurate picture of me (much better than I myself could have) as a treefucker I do not know what a "cyprus" is. I know Cyprus is an island in the Mediterranean. (Do you want to add "backpacker" to my description now?) Is it also a type of foliage? A tree, a bush? Or is "cyprus in the park" the full name like "weeping willow?" Please enlighten.
Second, it never takes very long before rightwing goons find a way to link whatever their attack is to the tired, tired metaphor of fucking. Buddy, that says a lot more about you than me.
Lastly, I will simply state that I have many times told people many things that that they have unconsciously and consciously ignored simply because they did not want to do it and assumed that there will always be someone below them to pick up the mess. (Reread the blog, compadre.)Perhaps the best metaphor for this is that there are sections of the US that have "solved" there garbage problem by exporting their "excess trash" to impoverished nations for a small fee. Think about that.
P.S. I, D Money, am using my time off to write many things. Maybe you'll see D Money's name in print one day. Until then look out for more blog postings in the future.
I must confess something to you. In these penny-pinching times I got naked for a man the other day. But fear not, he was a dermatologist. It's all good on the surface level so a new tattoo is in the pipeline.