invisible idiot

So now I’m in medias res, halfway through the struggle, and my sense of self has taken a severe pounding, the repetitive nature of my work reducing me to an automated telephonic menu system powered by coffee and cigarettes.

In other news, an awesome co-worker arranged a night of celebration to mark the end of my indentured servitude, to which many people have at least clicked “attending” on facebook, so y’know. Ten more days of work, followed by four straight days of drinking, then back to the alma mater for some half-assed honours work. It could be worse.

My Top 5 Artists (Week Ending 2011-8-28)

Tue, 30 Aug 2011 12:40:57 +0100

My Top 5 Artists (Week Ending 2011-8-28):

Imported from Last.fm Tumblr by JoeLaz

Day 6

Wed, 24 Aug 2011 23:43:00 +0100

of the thing I committed to do which is proving to be as insipid and pointless as the job that inspired it.

I haven’t actually discussed what I do for money every day. I’m not going to, that was just an observation.

It was boring. I spent the whole day looking at events and things which I can in no way afford to attend, a special kind of self-torture for the aspirational/doomed.

I think a lot of my friends are planning to move to Glasgow, which is good. Maybe I’ll have some kind of life outside of blogging about nothing.

So, in unsupported conclusion: Day 6 felt pretty much exactly the same as any other shitty workday, and I’m beginning to suspect that this Experiment will not yield the transcendent/illuminating/edifying epiphanies I had hoped it would.

Day 5

Tue, 23 Aug 2011 23:44:27 +0100

of yada yada yada.

The seating plan, controlled (like all things in the call centre) by a “dispassionate” machine which by all accounts has developed not only sentience but a bizarre and malicious vendetta against me, had me sitting in a totally unpopulated area, isolated, as some kind of punishment for actually turning up and doing my job. As a result, I read Cracked articles all day, which, to be honest, is kind of better than most of the human interaction the aforementioned call centre affords me.

Got home at 10pm, ate a burger, suppressed tears, watched the new Decemberists video which is based on a very specific scene from Infinite Jest, a book which lies in wait on my bedside cabinet, right now, over there, goodnight.

Day 4

Tue, 23 Aug 2011 00:35:11 +0100

of who even cares.

Overslept, rebate cheque didn’t clear, long-suffering friend and flatmate bailed me out, kept me in cigarettes and pizza. Finished season three of The Wire, left me with similar feeling of moral ambivalence to previous two seasons. I like how it’s never moralistic. Show, don’t tell. Etc.

Now going to bang a couple of sleeping pills and read until I fall into a deep, dreamless sleep before waking up and doing it all over again.

S’all in the game tho.

Day 3

Sun, 21 Aug 2011 17:42:51 +0100

of that thing.

Slept surprisingly well and at the Normal Time for a human, and as a result I feel quite chipper. The provisional plan to stop smoking as of tomorrow will probably be postponed, due to, How Awesome Is Smoking.

Hell, I’m smoking right now.

Day 3 triggers a realisation that not only does no one give a shit about my soul-negating work schedule, but that I don’t even give a shit about my soul-negating work schedule, and have nothing to say about work, other than It Is Boring and They Keep Giving Me Money.

I have The Pale King by David Foster Wallace over there, and I haven’t got round to it yet, but I know what the general premise is, and I have read many of his short stories relating to deep existential work-related boredom, and I have been thinking: Hey Dave, I love how you portray the strife of office-type drones, but did you ever work in a call centre? Or an office? Because one thing I never find myself thinking is: Hey my life as an anonymous administrative automaton is an untapped well of experience which in the right hands could tell us a lot about the human condition! Whatever, maybe I should be writing fiction about reputable academics and authors. What a novel idea! Guffaw.

Who knows what epiphanies Day 4 will bring. Stay tuned.

Day 2

Sat, 20 Aug 2011 20:13:11 +0100

of the most banal etc. etc.

Too exhausted to type. I have the sleeping pattern of a 16-year-old stoner and diet of same.

Noteworthy items: I was 40 minutes late and no one said a thing.

Am about to: Smoke peach-flavoured sheesha and read Infinite Jest, like that’s going to provide any kind of comfort.

Peace

Day 1

Fri, 19 Aug 2011 23:56:00 +0100

of the most banal journal of all time:

The Chronicles of Why Did I Sign Up For Twenty-Two Consecutive Shifts Without Even One Day Off.

Get ready to not give a shit as I record my inevitable descent into despair/insanity/hallucinatory levels of sleep deprivation/a combination of these.

Day 1 was ok. I felt reasonably lucid considering my slight hangover, and managed to maintain amiable relations with those around me. Co-workers’ reactions to news of my imminent work schedule were variously incredulous, pitying, amused, mocking and wtf.

Listened to: shuffle.

Consoled myself with: mentally caressing the consumer items I will purchase with my inordinate wealth. Have not yet countenanced the fact that I will probably have to spend most of it on therapy.