big dumb unemployed dork

7/27/99

John left early this morning; he had to be at the base at 4:45 to drive to a gig in Savannah. He usually wakes me up when he leaves, at 8:15, so today I slept until 9:30. Worked out, halfheartedly checked out job possibilities at colleges in Macon and the surrounding areas. No luck.

This job thing really sucks. I have a few options, none of which are appealing.

1. I can get a full time job doing something administrative. Good things: I’d work the same hours as John, I’d work no nights and no weekends. I’d get benefits, probably decent wages, no customer service, and my job would be completely separate from my life. Bad things: if I have the same hours as John, I will never practice my euphonium. No time off for my recitals or lessons, but that wouldn’t matter, since I wouldn’t be practicing anyway. I’d be in a good position to take a college gig, but I’d lose my playing chops first.

2. Retail. I swore I’d never do it again. Good things: Flexibility of hours and time off. And no guilt if I quit. Bad things: where should I start? Crappy hours, crappy pay, crappy treatment by the customers. If the hours are right, I might have time to work out and practice my horn, but I’d probably see my husband only on weekends. And guess what? I’d be working on weekends. Also, I tend to take things home with me when I’m in retail. One more good thing: this journal would be really interesting. Maybe I could get one last entry in before I’m carted off to prison for manslaughter. I don’t know if I’d even want temporary insanity.

3. I can try this temping thing again. Good things: flexibility of assignments, none of which would be too long to stand. Decent wages, free weekends. Time off when I say so. Bad things: my practice time would be inconsistent. And the last temp agency didn’t call me until the week before I left town. My stomach gets all jumpy when I do new things, and as a temp I’d be doing new things all the time. I’d be a wreck.

John and I are thinking about puchasing a domain. Good place for Journal of a Cynic—no more moving around. And a good place for our desktop music publishing company. The one we might start. You’ll be the first to know of any developments.

I’m at my wits’ end with this haircut. I knew the chick was cutting it too short, but I was powerless. Now it’s too short, it flips up in the wrong places because she exposed the natural curl and the cowlick. It’s not weighted down by the length of the hair any more. I’m reminded of seventh grade, when my hair was too thick to control; no amount of spray/mousse/gel would hold it in place, and I looked like a big dumb dork. Right now I look like a big dumb dork.

It’s going to take years for it to grow out right again, and I’m going to have to have it cut by another new person, and who knows what that person will do to it. Every time I look in the mirror I think about my threats last year to just shave it off, and I’m tempted. The only thing stopping me is the knowledge that it would have to grow out from that, too.

Doesn’t help that John and I went driving off to Macon again tonight, with the top down. The humidity and the wind really do a number.