Well guess what — this morning I got a call from a manager at a local Walmart about interviewing for a part-time cashier position. Yes I applied and yes I’ll take it since no one seems to need me to do anything else. It’s up to 32 hours per week, he said, especially if I’m available anytime, and I am. That’s not much, but even if it’s peanuts it’s still more of a paycheck than I’m currently getting, which is exactly none.
Tomorrow’s the interview. Wish me luck.
Good grief. I just went through all my clothes, in an effort to cull the outfits and such that I don’t wear anymore, etc. I can’t believe how much clothing I’ve accumulated over the years. I threw out a bunch of clothes last year — just threw them out. I clearly should have gotten rid of more. No wonder my closet — a standard-sized walk-in with shelves on either side — was so stuffed.
And that’s not all — I have a crapload of bedding that I never use, and purchased under some kind of hellish whim. This time I’m going to try to get everything to a thrift store instead of just dumping it. I kind of miss the neighborhood I used to live in, which had several thrift stores. Oh well, now I have the car.
I have too many things update: I just counted — I’ve got (so far) eight large trashbags of mostly clothing, plus a couple of comforters and placemat sets I don’t want. Where the hell did all that come from?
Oh look, “Dirty Harry” over at Libertas is turning into a good little dhimmi. I hope he’s got plenty of black cloth so his women can make their burqas, and I hope he’s socking away 2 percent of his income for the infidel tax. I hope the multicult points he wins from this are worth it.
For a saner view, read Steve H.
Update: I suppose I’d better repeat something I stuck towards the bottom of an earlier post on this controversy over the Fitna movie. It’s this:
When are people going to get the fact that it doesn’t matter what “moderate Muslims” (if such a creature actually exists and isn’t mythical) think about anything? They have no more power than the infidel to control what Muslim terrorists think and do, and all efforts to give these “moderates” an opportunity to show some spine have mostly led to failure. Talk about preaching to the converted — I’m sure a “moderate Muslim” wants to be left alone to live his life the same as we all do. That’s nice, but it’s no help at all in any kind of war — of ideas, of guns and bombs, of anything. All this nicey-nice talk (as a ultra-liberal professor of mine used to say) does for us is make us feel warm and fuzzy, and we are already too inclined to indulge ourselves in this manner.
Chasing after the moderate Muslim unicorn with the sugarcube of Western friendship is of no use — we aren’t being threatened by moderates.
One more: of course, Ghost of a Flea has much to say. Cowardice of the West — exactly.
I’m listening to some of my old vinyl LPs on the ancient Kenwood turntable to see if it’s worth at least keeping some of them. I forgot how freaking annoying the phenomenon of skipping is. And that, children, is why God gave man the ability to improve his technology. God loves us and does not want us to be annoyed! The records are going in the dumpster, as is the record player, which is on its last legs anyway.
Oh yeah — and that “warmer sound” nonsense vinyl-philes are always jabbering about? It’s a euphemism for “muffled, muddy sound.” Digital rules.
It’s being given new life on the internet. Check this out too.
Also: take that, Earth Hour!
I cranked the a/c down to below 65 degrees (Fahrenheit, of course) to cool my menopausal self down, and I watched Doctor Who episodes on Netflix’s neat watch-’em-on-the-computer thing. Take that, light-hating bitches.
(Second link via.)
Have you ever yawned and moved your head at the same time? Take my advice: don’t do that.
Well, I lugged another box of books down to my car a few minutes ago. That’s all I could manage. I think I’m getting tendinitis from my computer mouse. That’s my excuse, anyway.
The books are going to my storage unit. Eventually. Tomorrow I am going to try to get the rest of the books in the car (see if I move to another upstairs apartment — maybe not the dumbest move I’ve made this past year but it was pretty dumb) and a few other things (my paintings, mostly), and then I have to do some serious culling of my belongings. Apparently Goodwill doesn’t do donation pickups, so fuck them — I’m going to post a sign offering free furniture on the mail kiosk. Goodwill would just jack the price up anyway — this way someone will get a nice couch and stuff for free. As long as they remove it from the apartment.
Grumble.
By the way, thank you everyone for your donations. The fundraiser is still going — it will be until I get a job and get a paycheck. No word on the part-time temp job, I sent the resume out to some Craigslist ads on the advice of an ex-coworker (one of our other ex-coworkers got a job through Craigslist — I’ve pretty much given up on Careerbuilder, all I get is ads for those fake university sites; you know, the ones that set you up to get a phone call about scams like the University of North Phoenix or whatever). And tomorrow I’m going to hit the Publixes and other grocery stores around here. They’re always hiring cashiers. And there’s always Disney — but I live nearly an hour away from them, so they aren’t exactly practical. Then again, it depends where I eventually move to, doesn’t it?
Okay, blah blah blah about my miserable life is over. I’m actually feeling a bit better about things. But I am going to try to post about something interesting (such as, not my life) at some point tonight. How about the way frothing Muslim death eaters are continuing to make every miserable? Any minute now I expect to here of a real-life version of the Dark Mark (maybe a vertiginous, phosphorescently glowing crescent and star! I suppose a skull being technically a face, or the underpart of one, is off-limits to Real Muslims™) in the sky above a major Western city. PS: do you suppose Dirty Harry is now sorry about writing up a mealy-mouthed “it’s not nice to Moderate Muslims” slam of the Fitna movie? I doubt it — Libertas has its moments, and then it has its off-moments. This is one of the latter. When are people going to get the fact that it doesn’t matter what “moderate Muslims” (if such a creature actually exists and isn’t mythical) think about anything? They have no more power than the infidel to control what Muslim terrorists think and do, and all efforts to give these “moderates” an opportunity to show some spine have mostly led to failure. Talk about preaching to the converted — I’m sure a “moderate Muslim” wants to be left alone to live his life the same as we all do. That’s nice, but it’s no help at all in any kind of war — of ideas, of guns and bombs, of anything. All this nicey-nice talk (as a ultra-liberal professor of mine used to say) does for us is make us feel warm and fuzzy, and we are already too inclined to indulge ourselves in this manner.
Update: Canadians are coming through. (Incidentally, Canadians have become the current unlikely canary in the coal mine for free speech, vis-á-vis Muslims and their unwillingness — not inability, unwillingness — to take any kind of criticism. I’ve been remiss in following the whole Mark Steyn & Co. vs. the Human Rights Kangaroo Court brouhaha going on up in the Great White North. Kathy Shaidle, who has to live there for some reason, has been following the whole thing.)
Well, I woke up all prepared to move stuff to the storage unit, but I just couldn’t — I did manage to throw away some junk, and move some stuff out of the closet (preparatory to it being stored or given to Goodwill). Instead the wonderful weather enticed me into going for a drive. As always I ended up being on the road too long and by the time I got home I was ready to consign the rest of the people who infest Central Florida’s roadways to perdition. (I’m looking at you, Mr. Assrider Semi-Driver Man. I don’t exactly hope you roll over into a roadside swamp, but if it happened while you were attempting to hurry some other subcompact car up the two-lane blacktop because you have people to see and places to pee in, you’d deserve it.) As for where I drove — let’s just say I did it for Earth Hour. That’s a little more carbon in the atmosphere for Gaia!
And I’ve come to a conclusion about my wardrobe. As I complained later to a friend of mine (alas loaded down with problems of her own so all she can do is be an ear), it’s as if all the clothing and bed linen and such in my possession has gotten together and had babies or something — I am weighted down with way too many blouses, dresses, etc. that I never wear anymore. Before I am kicked out of this place I plan to take care of that little problem.
I have also decided to give the bulk of my second-hand, now third-hand, furniture to Goodwill or the equivalent. Anyone in the Central Florida area with a truck who is willing to come and get the stuff — the couch, the armchair, the large coffee table, the dressers. I am going to keep my desk, and hopefully sell the bed, but both those were new — just about everything else can go. (Don’t worry — I am keeping something to sit on, a couple of end tables to use, etc. I will have to sleep on the futon on the floor for a while but that will be a temporary arrangement in my life, hopefully. Once I get re-established in a place of my own somewhere else I will hopefully be earning enough at some job to be able to get new stuff from the Ikea store, which has nice cheap stuff.)
Anyway, it occurred to me, finally, that my needs really are simple: I don’t need an elaborate sitting area for all those dinner parties I never throw, and those kaffee-klatches I never host. I can do what I do — eat, sleep, watch tv, read, work on the computer — in one room. So my next apartment will be some sort of studio set up. The only studio I’ve actually lived in was way too small for comfort, but I’ve done research and they do come in larger sizes than 288 square feet.
Oh well, that’s all in the future. Right now my main worries are 1) finding a job, and 2) not getting thrown out of my apartment. As always your donations are appreciated — do you know that if everyone who read my site and the other two sites I host donated just five or ten dollars each I could probably live off the proceeds for months? I could actually seriously think of writing full-time instead of staring at a computer screen after 8 hours of work day wishing I still had the strength to think of something to write. Then again, I haven’t done much writing of significance since I was laid off, but I was preoccupied with the increasingly quixotic effort to find someone who wanted to employ me…
(Added: okay, I’ve edited this about five times. Enough! Any more mistakes are just going to stay there.)