blasphemy

9-16-99

Some of the tension at work broke today. It started yesterday, I guess, when I bonded a little bit with Tara and the other folks in the office. Today, though, all the planners (read: important people) went to the Thursday meeting and Tara and I were left alone in the office. We were assembling CD cases for our new inventory CD-ROMS and she started talking about the job. Turns out I'm not the only one who's dissatisfied. She's planning to leave the minute she gets a permanent job, unless The Company decides to give her one first. She's been a temp for 8 months now.

Until now, part of the bad feeling I got at work was that I seemed to be the only person who didn't love the place. There's a lot of complaining and politics, but everyone who gets a job there stays. It's just like Michigan, where everyone gets a job in an auto plant and then stays there. I've been feeling guilty as hell because I'm thinking of leaving, and I had to keep it a secret.

After we finished the CD cases, we both got on our phones and made job calls. She called the Air Force base and I called Macon music stores. We had a blast while planning never to see each other again.

My music job outlook is improving. In fact, one of the church conservatory gigs is pretty much in the bag, as long as I pass a background check. That's good and bad. I don't think they're going to be checking my credit rating, which is good, or my employment history, which is excellent. This is a particular denomination of Southern Christianity, and I suspect the application will include specific questions regarding my religious...habits.

Will they accept, "Yes, I am a Christian...," as an answer? They would, I'll bet. It means something different. What about, "I was raised Methodist...?" You think? I don't. It all depends on how tough they are. The guy on the phone said that one of the school's aims is to help kids use music to celebrate God's Glory. Hmm. This is my own personal belief, regarding music: use it to celebrate whatever you want. Hire me to help you.

God, I sound like a piece of crap. I really do harbor a few Christian beliefs, but talking about them rates right up there with cooing over how much I love John. You're not going to see any of that here.

I'm not a devout Protestant, but I can play that role. (To quote the magnificent Richard Russo.) My own "classification" lies somewhere between United Methodism and Unitarianism. I'm not sure either of those denominations will satisfy the good folks over at the conservatory. They're a pretty pious bunch.

A-a-a-anyway, I might have a few students there. Plus a few at every school in the damn county. I have an "interview" on Saturday with a band instrument retailer in Macon, where I might be able to teach a little bit, and I might score a part-time job. My Company days look to be almost over.

I say that every week, don't I?

John's gone to Biloxi for the weekend and I'm keeping busy. The time passes quickly when I'm working, and the weeks speed past when I only work four days. It's that rapid loss of time that I fear—like I'm fastforwarding through my life, without doing the things I want to do.