If you haven't discovered my Art Flog, please feel free to wander over to Kunstpike and take a gander.. I'm going to try and post regularly there with what-all I draw, whether it's comics, funny-animals, erotica, etc. So, not necessarily for the kiddies; be warned! :-D And some stuff well, will be purty cute too (with luck.)
Today was allright I suppose. For a Thursday. I don't personally mind Thursdays, but some people can't get the hang of them (Dent, Arthur). I am officially a Term CR-03 as of like yesterday. My paperwork finally came through (this was the interview I had in August that I thought I bombed--just goes to show what a surge of adrenaline can do for your self-confidence.) So, I am no longer Census-exclusion, which means I can apply for internal jobs within STC. Which is cool... I guess.. although it could mean that I just get imbedded deeper into the labyrinthine siren-song of a gov't job with no hope of extricating my ass to do the art/crap I really need to do!
That being said, since my status has changed, I'm being moved next week from my cushy, comfy corner office which made work keying tolerable.. back to the Dungeon Below; a windowless maze of cubes, all pretty much the same, egg-cartons with keyers keying data. And, to top it off, I get the plum assignment of keying HRSDC (which I think I was bitching about a few months ago.) Although not as excrutiating as the TAMS, it is still a pretty boring piece of business to do. Some people absolutely hate doing it (Catherine L!) I don't know.. as far as I'm concerned, it's same sh*t different bag, eh? ;-)
Still, it's too bad; it'll be 2-3 months keying the same thing, day after day, week after week, month after--well, until they run out. Which they never will. You know those little travel cards you fill out when you return to Canada from some foreign land? That's what the HRSDC thingies are. So, unless everyone decides to stay home forever, Stats will never run out of these things. I guess there's something to be said for job security, eh?
I think I'm going to have to invest in some books on CD or something.. or be sure to remember my MP3/ radio so I don't go (even more) bonkers. Although I seem to remember that I couldn't pick up CKCU 93.1 or CBC downstairs. *sighhh*!
I'm not bitter really.. or resigned.. I think after awhile, even the most rebellious of slaves must realize that the collar and irons don't chafe quite so much, that the slop is pretty tasty when you've worked hard and that the company of your fellow drones ain't too bad, compared to isolation. The danger is to sink so deeply that one appreciates and enjoys the slavery.. never glancing at the sliver of window peeping over the miles of cubed work-space, forgets the dreams and hopes that once were the thick chewy sustenance of life.
OH! To never forget the wise words of George Eliot... aka Mary Anne Evans (1819-1880), my favourite of which is: "It's never too late to be who you might have been." I find it remarkable that synchronicity occurs in bunches.. what I'm reading, listening to on the radio, observing on the TV often yell at me to follow my dreams, be true to my heart and trust my talent. Even while my internal demons scream and rant that I am not good enough and cling to the safety of the Joe Job. Can there be balance between what one HAS to do to live and what one MUST do to keep internally alive? When the balance gets out of whack, things happen (bad things usually); reminding me of a quote from "Art and Fear" that goes something like this.. "The artist doesn't get down to work until the pain of not working outweighs the pain of working."
Well, it's past midnight and I have to be up in less than 5 hours... :-P I must be nuts writing. Blame the Bridgehead coffee I scarfed.. a restless spirit.. a busy mind... chocolate fibre muffins... what-have-you.
Ok, I'll shush now :-)