I suppose you could say since this is my blog, you could look into it and see my cynic's reflection. But I think as long as we're talking mirrors here you should take a good look at yourself. And contemplate just how much you wish it were my reflection looking back, cause it's a mirror, so it'd be yours. And I'm hot.

Friday, December 09, 2005

12-09

12-09 12:00am

How many entries since being here have I started with Oh My Dear Lord?

Well, this one is no exception.

Oh My Dear Lord. What the Hell is going on here? I’m starting to discover, the hard way, that my scheduling ability is completely and utterly unreliable in this country. I’m actually at something of a loss, because punctuality and precision when it comes to work has always, always been a forte of mine. In the two years I worked for Market of Choice, I was late once, called in twice, for completely acceptable reasons. All my jobs before that were the same.

I’ve been here two months, and been late twice now. I went to the wrong branch, through no fault of mine, and today I again went to the wrong branch, but this time it was my mistake. The worst part is that I get the speech about leaving with plenty of time to arrive on time, even though I was at my branch with enough time to make it back to 柏 Kashiwa before the first lesson, and on every other day I arrive at least 40 min. before work actually starts. Yesterday, I was late for Kid’s training, and that was my fault, I left late. Well, not late if I were going to 柏 Kashiwa, but I was going to 松戸 Matsudo.

I got to Mallage Kashiwa at 12:45 when it was revealed to me the nature of my predicament. I had 25 min. to get back to Kashiwa Station, so, well, I ran. I ran long and hard. I managed to catch a bus halfway there and got to the branch at 1:15pm, 5 minutes before the start of the lesson, which was adequate time to get my folders and plan the lesson, which, Dara informed me, would be observed for my end of probation. So here I am, drenched in sweat, out of breath, five minutes before my first lesson getting ready to show what I’m capable of. Oh the look on that man’s face. He was ready to spit acid on that review. He almost looked smug. Smarmy bastard.

Well, thankfully for me, “Conviction and Skepticism” turned out to be an excellent lesson and the two girls in my class were capable and talkative. The lesson was actually near exemplary. After the lesson and having caught my breath, Dara came into the lounge where I told him that I really enjoyed that lesson. He remarked that it went well in there, and asked if I had taught that lesson before, to which I responded I hadn’t. I might go as far as to say the smile on his face this time around was a satisfaction I could share in. During my lunch break, Dara explained to me that the lesson did in fact go well in all the aspects with which he was concerned, and that the rest of my points were sparkling. Well, with the exception of my attendance “issues.” Apparently, Leigh or someone at Kid’s Training thought I looked hungover, and I stood up harshly to that one. I told Dara straight up I wasn’t, and that I’m not that kind of person. Despite the attendance fiasco, I take this job very seriously. So he gave me some pointers on keeping track of my schedule, and how to look up train times on my phone for future reference. He also said that my participation and enthusiasm at training yesterday was very good, which was odd, given that moments earlier he told me someone thought I was hungover. I chose to withhold the contradiction in those statements.

I have to admit I really kind of resent the hangover implication. Pardon my French, but I really think it’s bullshit to assume that when someone arrives late for a morning shift they’re hungover. I especially feel this way because I know that’s somehow an assumption specific to me and my personality type. For Christ’s sake, I drink, but seriously? When I have Kid’s Training the next morning? Come on. It was the first thing out of just about everyone’s mouth when they had a moment to ask me what happened. I bit my tongue, but sharp words lined its tip, grating my nerves quite a bit.

But I will say this: I handle pressure well. I didn’t fold, I didn’t freak out, I didn’t panic, I acted, I adapted, and most of all I performed. I took what could have been disaster and landed that plane. I can walk away from this. I had no money for a taxi, so what did I do? I ran. Observation straightaway? Sure. I didn't come here to fail. I didn’t go through everything I did getting here to not put everything I have into this job. The important part here though is that just because I deal well under stress doesn’t mean I’m going to create stressful situations for myself in order to perform.


10:15am

Yeahp. Weirdest dreams ever. I had a dream that I was taking someone into Portland for their first time, and I was really excited because we had to cross this bridge over a very, very wide river to get into the city, and the bridge descended into a massive canopy, inside which the city was constructed, the very tallest buildings barely sticking out. The view from the bridge was incredible, and as we approached the end of the bridge, I saw the familiar highway signs for the Naito Pkwy/405/I-5/84 exits. The city was exactly the same, except the whole place was dappled with sunlight having passed through trees.
The real excitement however came from watching the river from the bridge. A huge, we’re talking impossibly large whale was popping its head out of the water, and people were gathering to watch it. The whale managed to get higher and higher up each time, until it was level with the height of the bridge, which must have been hundreds of feet in the air. I couldn’t tell if the whale was trying to communicate with us, or was playing, or something, but I didn’t trust the thing. It came near the bridge many times, near where I was, and I would have nothing to do with that.

I had another dream later where I was on a motorcycle, in typical superbadass leather wearing hog driving style. I eventually ran into opposition from some gang, and of course there was a brawl. The odd part was that Mark R. from high school was part of the gang, and he apparently was notorious for using glass as a weapon, and was holding several bottles ready to break. So I matched him tit for tat, but apparently with his love of glass came a detachment from the pain of its cuts. It was a weird dream, which got convoluted quickly near waking. I have work at 3:10pm at モラージュ柏 Mallage Kashiwa today. Or at least I had damn well better.

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