Speak of the devil!

RE: last post

OMG, loike! Thanks to an ol' buddy of mine I found one of those typical (and absolutely enthralling) trashy internet arguments I was JUST talking about! (And it's a good one.)

Come on in, the bullshit's steaming!

^_^

Just my fucking luck. Woo.

I got a job. A perfect job. A 5-day, 9-6, ok-paying, nice atmosphere, happy, clappy, dream-come-true, summer job. The sort of job no-one can find at the moment.

Part of me's thrilled, and so, so grateful: No more money troubles! No more shame at borrowing from my parents! Guaranteed to be able to stay in Dublin! Even the possibility I'll be able to SAVE some money and not need to work so much during my final college year! Wow. Fairly jammy.


But... Fucking shitting bollox why did it have to happen?


Another summer. Another fucking summer working. In my last post, I talked about my plans... Plans for the last summer I have before college ends and I'm into the real world; Plans for doing stuff I've never had time to do; Plans for relaxing, bumming around, talking to people, going for walks and reading; Plans to do and try and savour whatever popped into my head; Plans for living without any plans for a while.

This is my last - LAST - summer like this. Last summer holidays. I haven't had a summer "holiday" (where I didn't spend the whole thing working) since... Summer '04, I think? Or '05... whichever.

Every summer since, I've taken no more than a week or two off. Every short break and midterm, I was usually working, or studying, or both. DIT's course structure even means we study over Christmas.

I sound like I'm complaining - I'm not. I like my life. I know there's loads of people in the same boat. And worse boats. Terrible, rickety, moth-eaten boats. And I've had this whole week (well, 4 days - almost a week) to chill and lie in the sun and chat on the phone and sleep and drink in the late afternoon and go for long walks... and it's been sunny and beautiful and I got a bit of a colour (a half a shade less pale. Which is the darkest I go, unfortunately. You won't notice - but I'm thrilled.) And I have half of tomorrow to do the same.

But I had gotten used to the idea that I wouldn't get a job (see last post)... I had decided to refuse the first job I was interviewed for, before they even offered it to me (as it would take me away from various other commitments that I didn't wanna break)... I was praying they wouldn't even call back at all. (They didn't, as it happens.)

Today, 5 minutes into the interview, it was clear that my CV alone had been enough to convince her, and that she just wanted a gawk at me before I signed the forms. The job was mine the minute I introduced myself. Right place, right time, right fucking lucky thing to happen. She seemed lovely. I left with my new uniform under my arm and a bittuva dazed grin. Over the moon!

Then, a few cigarettes later, it hit me... Yes, I am so, so lucky to have tripped and fallen into this job so unexpectedly, easily, suddenly, randomly, whatever..
But my break's now over. I need the money. I need to work. I've been offered a job. I start Monday. End of story. End of fun. End of sun. End of laziness and idyllic days.

I have absolutely no excuse NOT to take it. If I had tried, and failed, to get a job, I could guiltlessly while away the sunny days... sipping tea, packing lunches, smoking rollies, walking everywhere, maybe giving grinds or babysitting for the odd bit of cash...


My free-living, string-free, hippy-fantasy will remain just that.


When I took that first full-time Summer job, I guess I didn't know what I was getting myself into.

I got a taste for making my own money. And, if I'm honest, I couldn't get by without it. My parents will do their best to get me out of a jam, but I hate asking them for anything...

I've already started and there's no going back.
Tasted blood; want more. Hooked and completely reliant.
I'm gonna be working for the rest of my life.
And, though it started years ago, to be honest it comes as a bit of a shock. Which is stupid.
Must've forgotten what age I was for a minute there.

What's in a dream?

Now,
I don’t believe in dream interpretation or similar hippy-crap, but I just woke up and would LOVE some opinions on last night’s mental dream.



I’m collecting money at the door to some event, that’s in some sort of weird run-down castle – but the background’s pixellated like an old N64 game… No. More like the first Tomb Raider for PC. The tickets I’m selling are bright, bright pink and people keep passing them around to let other people in.


The event’s like, a book launch – or, well, that’s how it started out... The guy running it was the cute bodhrán player from the gig last night – I think he was supposed to have wrote the book or something..?

I open the book and, for the first 3/4s of it, it’s a fairly normal-looking encyclopaedia-style book –about a fictional museum. Everything’s in it! All the fictional artefacts, the architecture of the building, the non-existent history of the building, even the people who work there and all the visitors. Big colourdy pictures – kinda like one of those children’s nature books. Know the ones I mean?

Then the last few pages are a play – set in the museum – but it doesn’t seem too interesting; it’s literally just about a bunch of weird character’s experience in the museum; taking a tour, stopping at the cafe, strolling round the bookshop, talking shite, in baaaadly attempted accents and costumes that were waaay over-the-top..

There was such a buzz that ALL my friends (from school, college, work) heard about it and arrived. Everyone decided to perform the play immediately (the book was such a smash) and no one would let me join in. My mum left early, so I took her book and started flicking through it while everyone got changed into their mad outfts. I’d no interest in it anyway – but I saw in the book that there was one particularly interesting artefact – a big freakin’ independence-day style alien in some sort of plastic restraint/display-box thing.

Oh yeah, at this point all the stuff was real. Dreams, eh?

So I run off to find it – how cool?! And everyone’s giving out and roarin’ at me ‘cos I’m supposed to be letting people in and the crowd’s getting bigger… but I don’t care! I finally find it and it’s the coolest thing ever. Not moving. Presumably dead. I just gawked at it, and someone (my brother/cousin? Don’t remember) suggests I “plug it in.” Low and behold there’s a remarkably normal-looking cable and plug coming out of the alien’s armoured wrist, and I plug him in to a conveniently close socket.

And then it comes to life and tries to kill everyone.
Actually, it only seems to be chasing me… no one else seems to notice and are goin’ about their business practicing the play and talking shite about how incredible it is. Whenever I pass any of them (fleeing from giant alien shooting lasers at me and making shit of the Tomb-Raider-y background) they shout after me “Hey! Get back on the door!” And I shouted back “I just have to sort this out first – gimme two minutes.”

Bodhrán boy is especially annoyed at me, and my friends who can’t get in – all glaring at me but no one helping, but that’s cool ‘cos if they helped the alien would see them (or so was my logic in the dream) – and it was me plugged it in. I was just like, fuck sake, can’t someone else let people in??

I woke up before I sorted the alien out.
*shrug*

Well?