Losing My Job and Movie Theaters – Thoughts from May 27 and June 16, 2003

May 27, 2003

Well, it’s not officially official (because we could still back out), but Patti and I are close to officially owning my parents’ house. The house I grew up in from the time I was 5 years old; the house where I experienced the joys and oddness of puberty; and the house where my mom is still living. We need to find her an assisted living site, but we can’t find one good enough she can afford.

I’m still possibly losing my job. I’m still searching for a career in completely the wrong fields and completely ignoring my actual wants, needs, and interests for a career.

Future Voice: Hello, Voice of the Future here. I looked back at this entry and noticed it just ended suddenly. They must have made me work or something. When you examine the real picture, I’m actually the Voice of the Future Past. I’m in the future of this paper, but I’m writing this in the past of when you are reading it. Well, back to the rest of the empty page.

June 16, 2003

It was Father’s Day this weekend. It was also Patti and my 6-year anniversary. With all the things going on right now, there wasn’t much time to think about either. We spent Father’s Day at Patti’s parents’ house. All the normal good times and hatred surfaced. For our anniversary, we saw a movie (Bruce Almighty with Jim Carey) and I got a couple with a young child kicked out of the theater. And that story begins in the next paragraph.

As stated in the previous paragraph, Patti and I went to see Bruce Almighty at a theater in Redlands. As we were sitting in our seats devouring our large popcorn and orange soda that we paid $87.50 (since this may be used by future generations to fill in the fact logs for this year, I should state the large extent to which sarcasm should be observed in these words), a couple with a small child walked into the theater. In our usual way, we sat in the very back row of the theater. The child was making child noises and jumping up each of the stair steps leading to the row directly in front of us. I was trying to voodoo them away from sitting so near to us, but I don’t really know any voodoo (or believe that it works), so it didn’t work too well. They sat not directly in front of us, but their child walked up and down the aisles directly in front of us. The young mom seemed amused by everything the child was doing.

At one point, she said, “You’re going to get that man mad, (insert whatever the brat’s name was here).” She was referring to me (the man – not the brat). First, what’s the deal on calling me “that man” when I’m clearly more of a “that guy.” I almost smacked her with the cane I made from all the old pieces of string I’ve collected. Second, the child was allowed to continue to “get that man mad.” Patti went and told an usher who came and watched the child sit and silently watch the previews.

As the movie started, the child started again. Finally, I snapped. I leaped out of my chair and Patti immediately held me back. I think she thought the kid was going to hurt me, but I wasn’t leaping after the kid. It was the parents I was after. When I got out of Patti’s grasp, I told the mom, “If you don’t get your child out of here, I’m going to call the manager.” She gave me a look that said, “That’s not happening while this scowl is on my face.” I stormed out of the theater with the look of determination Norma Ray had when she was righting the wrongs for her fellow factory workers. I’m sure I looked more like a disgruntled patron of McDonald’s who couldn’t get his McNuggets on time. Having found the manager, I was bringing him down the long corridor of the theater when I could see the couple and their child walking toward us. As I walked by the couple, the mom said, “Thanks a lot!” I, in my greatest retort since I told the Music Company where I was a phone solicitor that I wasn’t at home when they called me at home, said, “Thank you for leaving!” Someday, this diary entry will be read in schools as a reminder for all people to never give up.

In other news:

On Friday, the 13^th, I was at our storage unit, picking up some yard supplies. I would use my parents’ supplies, but I’d rather save them for the Antique Road Show when it comes to town. I had to pick up Patti at a little after 5:00 pm and it was about 4:30 pm. It was a good amount of time to get to the house and then go pick up Patti. I put in my code to get out of storage and pulled out. I was driving toward the gate, but I could see one worker coming toward me in her electric cart. It was the same one she let me ride in once. I was wondering whether she was going to turn to the right of me or to the left where a wall existed. She avoided the wall, but ran straight into me as if I wasn’t there. The last image I remember of her before the crash was her slumped over the wheel, looking tired. I got out of my car and asked if she was all right. She seemed shaken (but not stirred). They took pictures and asked me to get an estimate for the damage to the bumper.

The worst part, of course, was I had to tell Patti. She has one of one response to bad news – she panics. When I called her to tell her what happened, I tried to soften the blow by speaking nonchalantly about the incident. I said, “Did you ever meet that lady, Laura, at the storage place?” She responded by yelling, “What happened? What’s wrong?” Once her fellow co-workers pried her off the ceiling at work, she panicked some more and calmed down. Now, along with the brakes being checked on the car, we need to get an estimate for the damage. When it rains, it pores.

I still have a job for now. Several rounds of lay-offs have passed me by. I would just like to make it until the house closes on July 9^th. I will most likely not be in this office, but I may keep my EST status – if you can call being an EST a status. There were a couple interviews I’ve been on and there’s another one on Wednesday. They have all been for less pay than I’m getting now, but these are the times we are in with the County. We have someone new that came from another office. She was kicked out of there and sent over to here with a couple of hours of notice. I’ve heard she’s a gossip and I’ve already observed it in the day she’s been here. She yelped at Andy today, “Did you hear about … (whisper, whisper).” I haven’t seen it, but I’m sure she chews gum. Today, I’m training someone to take my position. I like it when the writing on the wall is large and in neon letters. She’s a Clerk II, which is several steps below my position. Real career, take me away!

I feel guilty when I’m not working on work at work, but I also feel guilty when I’m not working on my personal work at work. For now, my work at work is going to win out.