..: ..: ..: stories ..: ..:		..: A New Schedule of Nothingness ..: Did I ever tell you how I got my job here at the Revolution? I was between jobs for the summer of 1996. I had escaped the clutches of the wicked witch of Torrance, and was living at home. A few months had gone by, and I was tutoring at a facility in Cerritos with Tim. He taught random things, and I taught design or something like that to a class of 2. And one day, my mom says to me, "When are you going to get a job?" And I say, soon. Like August. So August comes around, and I think about going back into the workforce. The normal workforce. The summer had gone by so quickly. I remember my first day jobless that summer, how I drove around Cerritos, stopped at Best Buy and Walmart. I felt so out of place without a job, with nowhere to go. It was a dream come true to have absolutely nothing to do, but only 2 days into my new schedule of nothingness, I grew depressed. And later, angry. For no apparent reason. It was pretty lousy. So my mom says get a job. I was a graphic designer at the time. Graphic designers have portfolios of stuff they have to carry with them to interviews. And those portfolios have to be fresh, and look good. Ugh, I didn't want to do any of that. I didn't want to go to Kinko's hell and print more color copies of my semi-recent work. Thanks to my last job, I had no art that wasn't "privileged and confidential," so I was left with the same portfolio I graduated UCLA with. I wasn't looking forward to returning to the market. So I prayed. I remember praying rather specifically. "God, please send me a job. I don't want to do the portfolio thing. I just want a job. Please have someone call me and give me a job." The next day, I got a call. My old friend Yush called. His company was about to enter a merger, and they were short a few bodies. They needed people. I went for an intervew the next day, and had a job the day after. By week's end, I was moved out and living in West LA again. Prayer: answered. Thus started the most rewarding and most difficult years of my life. The adjustments were hard, and for most of the first few years, I was the one who needed to change, who needed to grow up. I'm not sure about these days. Times are once again, very hard. My optimism is draining away. I am Charlie Brown, trying to hold the cereal and milk in my cupped hands so that the milk doesn't seep through my fingers. This is the ragebomb! This is the ragebomb. ..:.. ©1997-2003 RageBomb