I have stuff to post. I certainly do. There’s some geeky humor, an online toy to tinker with, thoughts to convey about recent family events, and an update on how life’s treating me.

But not today. Today I spent downstairs, hiding from my furnace-like bedroom and (thus) the computer(s), which I left turned off for 95% of the time. (I had to check mail and at least glance at the nonexistent job listings. I have responsibilities, dammit.)

I hate 100-degree heat. Hell, I hate anything above 90, but having 100 degrees sprung on me all of a sudden is just plain cruelty on the part of the universe. Mind you, “I take great comfort in the general unfairness and hostility of the universe.”

Maybe I’ll write something more interesting tomorrow. Or the day after. Hang in there, and stay cool. Drink lots of fluids. Et cetera, et cetera, ad infinitum, ad nauseum.

Stupid heat.

After planning my week around it, at the last minute I decided not to attend the Pacific NW Tech Career Fair. Why, you ask?

Because I finally looked closely at the list of represented companies and what jobs they’re offering. It’s not pretty, folks, not for an all-purpose computer geek like myself. Almost all of the companies represented are “high-tech,” meaning they’re looking for engineers and programmers and such. I’m not a silicon wafer designer, for instance. Of the non-“tech” companies represented, I’ve already spoken to one and put in an application with another. That leaves the FBI and another couple of outfits I’m either not suited for or wholly uninterested in. Primping, preening, printing out resumes and taking a two hour commute each direction only to talk to (maybe) one recruiter seems like an awful waste of resources, especially when one isn’t entirely certain said recruiter is offering the kind of job that one would actually want.

I want to work, yes. I also don’t want to waste an entire day of my own time, let alone most of an hour of someone else’s. It’s for the best, truly.

This gives me more time to prepare for the weekend’s festivities which I just found out are starting sooner than I expected. As in, “I leave for Albany tomorrow afternoon.” The family (or such of it as can and will assemble) is throwing a kind of wake for Grandpa Gene; I’m riding down with Sis and her baby. I’ll be home some time Sunday. Wish me luck, or some-such.

For the record I’d like to state that I have not recently listened to the song in question. Hell, I don’t own the CD nor do I have it on MP3 anywhere. And yet, while pondering a certain inevitable chore for the day, this is what just ran through my mind:

“Iiiiiii’m out of duds, so I’d better get this laundry started!”

Sorry, Pink.

I should’ve known better than to get my hopes up at the “job offer” email I received yesterday.

We have found your resume at www.monster.com.

Sigh. Apparently the only people who’ve done so up to this point are weasels.

And We would like to suggest you a position at our company – the Transfer Manager.

And I would like to suggest that you jump off a cliff, or possibly go play in traffic.

The task of the Transfer Manager is to process payments between our clients and our company via checks, bank wire transfers,Money Orders.

Oh, this doesn’t sound even remotely suspicious, does it? This is the sentence that set off the rest of my mental alarms. You’re hiring a bunch of people (you say there are 5 positions open) to perform transactions? Aren’t there, you know, professional and secure financial services and what-not for this kind of thing? What’s wrong with using those? And what sort of people are willing to do business with you in this fashion? Do I not even want to know?

Maybe I’m just paranoid. It’s possible that I’m reading too much into this. Maybe.

The job is related to remote Internet operations.

I’m not entirely certain that this sentence even parses.

Every payment order will be accompanied with detailed instructions.

I should hope so.

It’s a commission based position. You will get about 8% of each processed payment.

I shudder to think what your markup is, then, if you can afford to shrug off that much of a given payment.

There’s more, but I won’t bore my readership. Suffice to say that it’s a “work at home” position that will supposedly grant me “financial independence” and “high self-esteem” even though “prior customer service experience is a good benefit, but not a must.”

Don’t call me, folks. I’ll call forget you.

This morning I found out via email (because not many people have my new number) that my grandfather, Mom’s dad, passed away late last week. For all that this wasn’t exactly unexpected at some point this year, it still hit me pretty hard… and I think I’m glad I didn’t find out via the phone. I wouldn’t have had anything meaningful (let alone intelligible) to say at the time, and after two months of job hunting I’ve just about had my fill of awkward interaction with human beings.

I spent the day playing games on the computer, talking about game stuff with friends during the evening, and playing a card game to round out the night. This isn’t because I shrugged off the news and blithely moved on; I needed to divert my brain for a few hours or risk entering one hell of a fugue state.

You know, again.
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