Cambridge Diary 2

Being called overqualified for all the jobs I’ve applied to. Need a weaker resume.

Eating bread and cheese under the branches of an elm during a rainstorm. In a cemetary. 1635 GO.

Cell phone getting the Blue Screen Of Death. Being able only to receive calls, not to make them.

Cell phone then suddenly getting healthy. And continuing its 11-year history of good and honorable service.

Applying for foodstamps #epicwin

Taking a test of my computer skills, being presented with Excel – in Vista.

Knowing 8 of 30 questions about Excel; managing to figure out 21 of the remaining 22 by context.

The high reaches of the skyscrapers obscured by white mist. Something out of a Japanese jungle.

Dunkin Donuts and Starbucks sharing an entranceway; drinkig coffee from one while stealing wireless from the other. #glasnost

Impossible to write one-liners without using self-referential hashtags. #twitterpoisoning

Guy ahead of me at the temp agency has tattoos reaching out of his back to wrap around both ears. He has a law degree.

All four other people ahead of me failing to bring the appropriate ID. Two asking for time to call their dads to get something faxed over.

Woman on the subway showing a foot of cleavage. I measured. #notreally

On a crowded rush-hour red-line train, dozens of people standing, nobody willing to sit next to me. Considering changing deodorant. Or setting mysel on fire.

Nowhere to go, so riding the rails until it stops raining. Hobo Half-Life… great justice.

The first time I get to see what I look like in this suit is in the shiny groundfloor windows of a department store. Urban guerrilla? Bet your ass.

Walking through the canyons created by skyscrapers to each side, thinking that I too could work above. Looking forward to the romance being utterly sapped from this notion.

Smiling at the girl behind the front desk = scoring ten thousand million points forever.

Find myself constantly playing the “what it a nuke went off?” game while in various urban situations. Realizing that I do this often enough for it to be A Part Of Myself. Worthy of dramatizing in stick-figure comics? As worthy as anything! #raptors

Man with a giant moustache. Giant. And the ends curl up. Like the raised wings of a pair of filthy pigeons. If he gets a job before me… I could not possibly complain.

Rail-thin people drinking giant frappuccinos through long straws.

Facing the fact that “I could work very hard so that someone else could stay home and raise my kids” is an actual viable lifestyle choice.

Facing the fact that “I could get a job” is just a lifestyle choice.

The fact that I have this ridiculous 17″ laptop means that I am forced to carry a briefcase (or its rough equivalent) everywhere. Realizing this makes me look Professional.

Indescribably weeaboo restaurant – pocky and panko – and all the employees are caucs. This is the first place of business I’ve entered in Boston which doesn’t contain one asian.

Any time the beef dish is the same price as the chicken, know you’re getting half the amount of meat. #tanstaafl

One window wicd-curses in cathodegreen inconsolata, the other htop in blinking 256color glory. I can feel the stares on the subway. And THEY GIVE ME POWER.

Overheard conversation: old man in a suit talking to young woman, telling her he wants their “strategic business plan” to emphasize their corporate web site “go[ing] viral”

Cellist at the subway = best possible reminder that jumping in front of trains is bad.

Hot water goes out. Don’t have to do dishes. I like this apartment.

Texts from a girl on her way home from work, 6:00, every day. Then Annie Hall shows up and throws lobsters at me.

Telephone recruiter for the company has no vocal inflection. None. It’s like the singer from 10,000 Maniacs after a laryngectomy. I just couldn’t take him seriously. Or, therefore, his company. This must be how interviewers feel when their candidate shows up wearing flip-flops and a QC t-shirt.

Wearing Interview Shoes to a job that’s two miles away from the nearest T stop = dress shoes finally broken in.

Saving eMails to desktop so that I can read them at home, in the Land Of No Internets.

Walking around my neighborhood, laptop open before me, refreshing wicd-curses every 15 feet, looking for unsecured wireless.

Finding unsecured wifi across the street from my house. Next up: striking oil under the floorboards.

Using my writing, even little observations, to process the world around me.

Less than three.

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~ by davekov on 23 June 2011.

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