O O Ø O O O O
Much A-Rant About Nothing
Bored. Bored, bored, bored. Who knew that being an unemployed bum would make handling the pode so difficult? I've been doing sweet-f-all for about ten weeks now, and have come to realise that I'd really like to be doing something that I consider “useful”. While the biking, running, reading for pleasure, drinking beer, and sleeping in have all been great, I have very little to bitch about. My last couple submissions to the pd.o have been a little anemic, and it's because my daily contact with people and things that piss me off has, along with the requirement to go to work, completely disappeared.
The only way I could handle being unemployed for half the year, every year, would be to watch Teletubbies all day.
I don't know how people avoid work on a regular basis willingly. I'm talking about the mass of people who work the minimum number of weeks required by EI, then go on the dole. They then take the handouts until their "benefits" run out, and then it's back to work and repeating the cycle. Before you jump on me for saying I'm stereotyping those on unemployment, I'm not trying to. I'm just talking about that group of people that do exist and play this game, all because the system lets them. I have several “buddies” from high school who are happier than a pig in shit to live this kind of life, and I don't know how they do it.
What do they do all day? How do they pass the time without going bonkers? How can they stand the monotony? Most importantly, does their mother know how they turned out?
The only way I could handle being unemployed for half the year, every year, is to watch Teletubbies. That show is like crack. Four brightly-coloured, asexual, fat thing-a-ma-bobs with monsyllabic vocabularies jumping around saying "eh-oh!" while eating toast and playing with a posessed vacuum cleaner sounds pretty inane, but will suck you in for hours if you let it. Just ask Kjell, and don't let him claim it was the Jell-o shots, he made the tape and costume while sober. And please don't tell me Tinky Winky is gay just because he has a purse, I know a guy who irons sheets, watches movies about masturbating with a steak, and he ain't gay (or if he is, he hides it very well - hi Z!).
A typical episode opens with the baby-sun beast rising and squawking—can you imagine if the real sun giggled and screeched at 5am every day—spends five minutes with the 'tubbies saying “hello” while performing stupid tubby tricks, plays the same video twice, and spends the rest of the show with the tubbies saying good-bye while performing more stupid tubby tricks. Somewhere in the half-hour they throw in some food fetish moments and strangely sexual shenanigans with the vacuum cleaner, but they all keep their clothes on. The scary part is that as you watch this, and the next show comes on, and you just sit there and watch it all over. It's truly frightening, even more so than Mr. Rogers (although I wouldn't know, mom thought he was a pedophile so I watched Capt. Kangaroo and Mr. Dressup instead, but people tell me he was pretty scary.)
...I'll see if I can provide a leaking propane cannister and some flint to aid in the merry-making.
The good part about this solution is that it doesn't require beer. You could live pretty frugally for the six months you're on pogey, and so long as you had access to PBS or the CBC and a VCR, you'd be set. The only effort involved would be to rewind the tape and press play, or you could spend some of your fellow workers hard-earned cash to buy a looping playback VCR so you could have an all-Tubbies, all-the-time experience. You could liven the experience by buying your own set of adult-size sleepers with feets, inviting over all the other deadbeats you hang around, and see if you can do an in-home production of your own. Who knows, you might even get on “Jackass!” If you choose to try this, please let me know and I'll see if I can provide a leaking propane cannister and some flint to aid in the merry-making.
Of course, there are probably a couple better ways for you to spend your time1. Some suggestions I might have for folks who follow this lifestyle and have nothing to do are as follows:
- Try playing life-size "Frogger" on the closest big highway. Remember to watch out for the alligators when you get close to home, and those new-fangled Beetles look a lot like turtles.
- Spread peanut butter on your genitals and head over to the closest auto-parts yard (or any other place with guard dogs). Bonus points if you play this game before having the opportunity to procreate.
- Test out the airbags in your 1982 Monte Carlo2. Remember you need to hit the wall/embankment/bottom of the gorge doing at least 120km/h to ensure they'll pop, and seatbelts are for pussies.
- Spend a luxurious morning relaxing in your new Jacuzzi. Don't have a Jacuzzi, you say? Make one, it's easy! Simply fill the tub with hot water, add bath salts for that “spa” feeling, and drop your blow dryer in to create a killer jet. Step in and enjoy the journey to your own personal Nirvana.
- Go to your local Hells Angels hangout and start a Teletubby conga line. Extra credit for wearing your costume and surprising the biggest guy there by making him the line leader.
- Have a bonfire in the backyard with a fireworks display. Can't get fireworks? No problem. Go to your neighborhood Canadian Tire and pick up a few cases of jacketed ammunition and shotgun shells. When the fire is good and high, toss the ammo in and watch the magic begin.
All of these are relatively affordable, and would go a long way in making the world a better place for you and me.
the idiots who have all the “accidents” drive the rates up for John Q. Public
In all seriousness though, how do people stay sane without having some purpose on a day-to-day basis? Any purpose is good—taking care of the fam, getting an education, searching for work, volunteering, etc.—but living off the avails of others folks just so you can sit on your fat ass, drink beer, and sleep 'til noon is beyond me. And please, don't tell me you deserve it because you paid into EI - it's like any other insurance, the idiots who have all the “accidents” drive the rates up for John Q. Public, which is people like me.
Some people I know even have jobs (usually government), do nothing all day, and are happy about it. Take Larry Lipshitz as an example. Larry (not his real name) works a 37.5 hour work week, so gets to go home early on Friday. He arrives at 0800 every day, and leaves at 1630. Because he is a smoker and Ottawa has a no-smoking bylaw, he gets four fifteen minute smoke breaks per day which start from the time he reaches the smoking area (it takes him 5 minutes each way to get there. He also gets the regular two 15 minute breaks for coffee. He gets a one hour lunch every day. He goes home at 1200 on Fridays. He gets one and a half sick days per month which he takes religiously, lest he loses it. In case you dispute these numbers, this is what he brags about - really. Let's do the math:
A typical “37.5 hour work week”
0800 - 1630 Mon to Thu = 8.5 hours x 4 days = 34hours on-site
0800 - 1200 Fri = 4 hours on-site
Total = 38 hours on-site per week, assuming he's punctual *cough* every day
4 smoke breaks Mon - Thu, 2 smoke breaks Fri = 18 breaks x 25 min/break
= 7.5 hours
2 coffee breaks Mon - Thu, 1 coffee break Fri = 9 breaks x 15 min/break
= 2.25 hours
4 lunch breaks Mon - Thu = 4 lunch breaks x 60 min/break = 4 hours
Sick-days, assuming the day and a half is spread over 4.5 weeks per month and
rounded down = 2.5 hours
Total = 16.5 hours of breaks and sick days per week
Grand total left for work = 21.5 hours (and we won't even talk about how much
time he spends sending jokes via email)
Not bad, eh? 21.5 hours of possible productive time per week, and that doesn't even include the three weeks per year of vacation he gets. Of course, the numbers will fluctuate up and down on a weekly basis. <sarcasm> I'm sure he's working weekends and weekdays as well (for overtime), but it's a wonder how he's constantly complaining about how busy he is all day.</sarcasm> I asked him about deadlines, and he said they come and go, but no one really forces them, and if they made a deal he'd just file a grievance. These are our tax dollars at work. I'd go out of my freaking mind with a productivity level like that. Oh wait, I am.
This, this is technology's fault!
So I had a point somewhere along the way, and that point is this: I miss the eighty-to-one-hundred hour work weeks I have put in, on average, over the last eight years. I like the pressure, I like the deadlines, but most importantly I like encountering all the idiotic things that hold me up along the way, and bitching about them to anyone who will listen. I could be talking about what ridiculous things someone promised to a customer, leaving me—quite willingly—holding the delivery bag. I could be railing about how hardware and software vendors marketing claims are quite different than what is actually delivered (ask me about EMC some time, it's actually a pretty funny story involving 92.5% uptime over a six-month period). I could be spewing invective about how unfair life was after busting my ass for some lying fuck who could give a shit about me, but would tell me anything to ensure I kept his promises. Instead, I'm getting a tan, improving my golf game, getting re-acquanited with the library, and generally goofing off. The sad part is, I'm miserable.
How fucked up is that? This, this is technology's fault! =) It's actually mine, and I'm doing something about it, but boy is it a pain in the ass.
If someone needs a slightly *cough* volatile, relatively experienced workaholic, please let me know, 'cause I need to get back to some insanity in the workplace. At the very least, my venting will be a little more entertaining.
Until next time,
Tuesday, July 16, 2002
PD DLVI
1 - Don't do any of these. Really. It's not a good idea. If you consider any of them I'm surprised you've lived this long, and I assume no responsibility for your stupidity.
2 - I know an '82 Monte Carlo doesn't have airbags, that's kind of the point.