So I quit another job

its official...friday is going to be my last day at LPL financial. i feel like a wuss because i could just stick it out, at least until i actually have another job, but i'm kinda looking forward to the time off, so i don't actually care. is it lame to quit a job because it makes your life miserable? where did i get this notion that i should continue to torture myself all for the sake of a company that cares not for my piddly existence?
CAPITALISM! there's the culprit.
and with that bombastic statement, i'm outta here...PEACE, BITCHES!

profanity ensues

well everyone, here's a work story for you so you can fully understand why facing the day seems so impossible to me sometimes.
you know how all i do is open mail and then alphabetize it. well, once i get through a stack of like 600 statements i give them to my supervisor, the cosmetologist...all alphabetized A-Z and pretty and everything. well, her job is to enter them into the database and put them aside to be filed. well, yesterday she hands me this big ol' mail bin that's full of loose statements that she has entered onto the database. naively, i assumed that contained within the box was a slightly messier, slightly less pretty assortment of stacks of 600 or so statements organized A-Z. no, actually, there doesn't really seem to be any order to it at all. there are random stacks of S, P, Y, W etc... now this, i just can't understand at all. there is literally no sense or organization to it. there were no post it notes stuck in there to indicate "this stack right here is g-p or anything like that. it was just paper, stacked on top of paper, stacked on top of paper in no order at all.
so now, when they need to be filed, its going to be a random search through the filing cabinet every time you get done putting one statement away. its going to be a nightmare. i'm going to quit before this happens, because i absolutely refuse to deal with this. i just don't understand how you can get something that is organized and then completely fuck it up. there's no reason. just fucking do it in an organized manner and then this work won't need to be done over and over and over again. it makes no motherfucking sense at all. goddammit motherfucking assmonger fish patrol monkeyass dick asshole.

Falafel ain't easy

while falafel is fantastic, and even maybe a little bit funny, it gives me gas, which does contribute to the funniness, but i'd still rather be the oscillator than the falfel maker. maybe i could be a mad professor with crazy hair and glasses and a tweed jacket with elbow patches, and two different shoes on and mittens...you've gotta protect your fingers.
this is what i do to avoid starting my day. its 8:13 here, which means i've only got 497 minutes left before my day is over. ahh the nice comfort of only 497 minutes remaining. makes me all tingly inside.
well...there's literally an entire drawer full of financial statements that are just waiting for me to alphabetize them, so i should get going.
but on the other hand, i could just keep complaining...like about how depressing it was this morning (and most mornings) when i realized that i no longer had time to keep pressing the snooze button, and rather, that I had to get out of bed at that very minute. rush rush rush...get up, get ready and get on the road so you can rush rush rush...and then stop...because you're in gridlock traffic.
whatever, i'm not gonna bitch about this anymore, i'm just gonna find another job somehow, soon.

so i quit smoking

gone are the days where i could light a quick cigarette to kill the remaining 5 minutes of free time i have before i had to do anything else. yeah, that's right, i finally quit smoking. it started to hit me that i really needed to quit when i realized that i started when i was 18...and now i'm 24. that means for 6 years i have been ingesting varying amounts (anywhere from 1 to 20 cigarettes a day) of noxious chemicals, while all the while upholding that i could quit at any given moment.
well...i was right. i didn't slowly taper off, i didn't get the patch, or gum, or hypnotherapy or any of that business, i just quit. i've always contended that my true addiction was a mental one, and it wasn't even a real addiction, it was an overpowering fascination and attraction to smoke and fire. goddamn smoking is sexy, i feel so tough and badass when i smoke a cigarette, and when that first burst of nicotine of the day hits my lungs i'm not on cloud nine, i'm about to blow it out of my plaque infested, dirty lungs. god it felt so good, and i miss it, i really miss it...a lot.
one of the peculiar tortures of quitting that i've noticed so far (today is actually day 4) is that my sense of smell is starting to come back to me. and while this means that i can smell the delicious aroma of the coffee i'm using as a crutch in the absence of my sweet sweet lady nicotine, i can also smell the delicious aroma of other people smoking when i venture outside. oh god, the smell of someone else smoking is almost better than actually smoking a cigarette myself, its what got me started in the first place and it teases and toys with me now.
on a lighter note, i've also noticed my throat clearing up which is awesome. i used to make this awful noise, kinda like a car that's trying to start but doesn't have enough gas or something. well, that noise never really cleared anything out of my throat, but when i do it now, i notice that there's all this plegm that wants out, so out it comes.
in general i'm still glad i quit, but oh god i miss it. i miss it so damn much, i seriously almost want to cry...i guess this is my first real craving. my lunch break was like...super hard cuz people were outside smoking.
so, that's what's going on with me right now. i might be posting a bit more often now that i won't be taking cigarette breaks. but seriously, be sparing with whatever congratulations or praise you might feel compelled to sling my way. while i'm sure i'll appreciate it, i'll tell you what i told my mother. its really hard for me to do things that people tell me to do, or tell me are good to do, so the fact that i'm quitting for real this time, really means that its coming from me and no one else. if people start telling me how great it is, and all of a sudden i feel like i'm getting too much praise, i'll probably start smoking again.
i'm strange...i can't help it. if you can understand why praise for what i'm doing would make me do the exact opposite, i'll buy you dinner. until then, i'm gonna get back to work now.
later kids,
smokeless rob

hi everybody!

uhh...yeah. i'm not very good at this whole "sitting down and writing out your thoughts" thing. for some reason i can never really find the time for a plethora of reasons including, but not limited to:

1. there always seems to be something that i have to do to my car, whether its replacing the brake pads (which turned out to be a 9 hour job), changing the oil or rewiring the stereo because i'm not satisfied with the way my rear speakers sound. incidentally, how cool is it that i now know how to do each and every one of those things (and more) all by myself {insert cheeky toothy grin of pride here}.
2. my job...well...my job is stupid, and sucks the life out of me. aside from the fact that it is mind numbing and annoying, its also an hour commute each way, so that means that my 8 1/2 hour working day, including lunch, gets turned into 10 1/2 hours, and if traffic is really bad, well...just forget about it. basically i should just sleep in my car.
3. i have a girlfriend that i love and adore. and with the remaining 13 1/2 hours of the day, i like to use as many of them as possible spending time with her. now, if you allow time for eating, bathing and sleeping, that really only leaves like 6 or 7 hours a day. for most people that would be enough, but not me...i'm insatiable.
4. after staring at a computer screen all day, pretty much the last thing i want to do when i get home is turn on another computer and bitch about all the stupid crap that happens everyday. and to be honest, its mostly just boring and it doesn't vary that often.

so, that's about the long and short of it...basically i'm just too busy and exhausted to keep up with the high demand for robness. now that i read that, it sounds really funny, cuz it never really feels like i accomplish anything. but anyway...here's a quick antecdote for those who crave it.
today i woke up late...no surprises really, i hate mornings and have never really been one who jumps out of bed. anyway, i get clean, get dressed and get going and i literally make it less than a half a mile from our doorstep when a motorcycle cop or C.H.I.M.P. as i like to call them (california highway (the I is there for decoration) motorcycle patrol) pulls me over. apparently i was in a little bit of a rush this morning and was going 63 in a 50 zone. what's the big fucking deal, bitch? i hate cops, and the only thing i hate more than cops are cops that give me speeding tickets. goddammit...goddammit. the only reason this really pisses me off is because now there is legal documentation showing that i exist in california (besides the fact that i've been drawing a paycheck here for something like 5 months). now that the police know i'm here, i need to get serious about changing my driver's license and getting my car registered in this state. ha...yeah, i never really got around to that, i was waiting until we moved out, but since that isn't really happening any time real soon, i guess i have to just suck it up. the funnies part about that though, is that i have absolutely no freaking idea what the hell happened to my mother humping title to my car. so i went online tonight and ordered another one, which will be shipped to my parents' address in rochester and then they'll have to send it out to me. then i need to get my new muffler installed, get the car smog tested and make a hellish, horrific and terrifying visit to the dmv. this, i do not look forward to at all.
good news though, i don't think i'm going to have to go into debt to finally do all of this. i'm actually staying on top of my finances, which for me is a really big deal. i hate credit cards...they are evil. they let me spend money that i never had, and probably never will have. i have managed to finally pay off my credit card, only to put my new muffler on it, which i really did out of habit. i have enough money in my checking account, but i'm so used to not having large sums of money in my account that i instinctively put big things on my credit card.
wow...this is getting really boring. and its kinda late. and i need to wake up in 6 hours. god i hate commuting to work. if only my freaking stereo would work right, it might make the drive a little more tolerable. i know i wired it right...but it still sounds like testes rattling around in a shoe box. i'm gonna have to get serious soon and install an amp and subwoofer. i can't believe how much i'm starting to know about cars.
goddammit...i'm still being boring. ok, i meant for this to be brief, because i wanted people to know i'm still alive. perhaps i'll blog again after santa cruz island. of course, i also meant to blog after suzie and i went to el centro for the fourth of july (just to get away from the bestler residence). the title of the blog was going to be, "so we drove into an oven," because the temperature in el centro was actually 115 degress. the rest of the blog was going to be filled with all the silly shennanigans that you would come to expect from suzanne and myself, but like i said...i'm bad at this whole "sitting down and writing out your thoughts" thing.
so, in closing, sorry i'm such a negligent blogger...especially since i called everyone else out for not commenting on my blog and all that. i'm quite the two faced bastard.
i'll write soon...i think...maybe.
rob