From CNN.com:

“Archaeologists find Egyptian Stone Age stores

Tuesday, December 28, 2004

CAIRO, Egypt (Reuters) -- Archaeologists in Egypt have found eight Stone Age grain stores at an oasis southwest of Cairo that help show the shift from hunting to agricultural societies, the Ministry of Culture reported.

The ministry said the discovery was made by a team from the University of California at Los Angeles (UCLA) in an area north of Fayoum 100 km (60 miles) southwest of Cairo, where 67 grain stores were found in 1926.

‘The well-preserved nature of these stores helped experts to understand the transformation of societies, from depending on hunting to a stable agricultural society,’ government antiquities chief Zahi Hawas said in the statement.”

Also found were several “impulse items” believed to have been placed at the stores counter for easy shopping. Items included naked lady pens, “Wacky Wall Walkers,” Altoids in mummified wrappings (believed to “lock in freshness”), and various maps “to the stars” with stops by several pyramids, the Sphinx and Abe Vigoda’s house.

I am being paid to sit on my ass

…and watch it get bigger

In an ever-expansive position as a temp my new job is to sit here, in front of my computer and do

“whatever”. Yes, that’s right, people currently have nothing for me to do, so I get to just sit here. Thus far, I have exhausted punknews.org, my email accounts, and am currently bored with Myspace. Cnn.com is the next aim of my focus, and I’ll probably look over baseball schedules for the San Francisco Giants, I’ll be visiting a friend sometime soon and we want to make sure there’s a Cubs game while I’m there. Other than that, the gray walls of my cubical are pissing me off, and we’ve had words. People around me, there are none in this pod and only four in the pod to my right, are beginning to question my sanity. Stupid walls. Stop degrading “The Jeffersons” like that! It was a timeless show about striving to make it in the world! They were and did moooooove on up to the east side. The east side is the nicer side. Oo, there’s a rip in the fabric of time right in front of me. I’ll be thrown back to the Ming Dynasty.

Stupid imagination.

Just read the article.

If they had called animal control, wouldn’t they have just put the damn thing to sleep anyway? Dumb.

It comes right back to moving

I made a bonehead move asking if the women in the pod over needed any help. Actually, I hoped

that they would tell me they didn’t and that I could go home. Instead, I’m doing customer service data entry and filing. Neither of which I entirely enjoy. For a while there I was actually doing work that I was suited for (proofing, editing and writing) and now I’m reduced to the work of a robot. A sophisticated robot. Should have just kept my mouth shut, and left. I could have emailed Mike (he was, in fact, ill) when I got home. Not even entirely sure that he’ll be in tomorrow. Phone calls could have been made, MVP Baseball played instead I am dismayed…that’s some rhyming for all y’all out there. Actually, I probably would be better here, making the money to pay off the new cell phone and service I purchased, through Amir and his roommate, last night. Better to be sitting at an uncomfortable chair, in a dusty cubical, on a crappy computer.
Interestingly enough, I got back from lunch only to find that the manager who is supposed to be showing me what to do next is not here, and I’m writing this. That, and all I can think about is the move.

Excitement or fear? You be the judge.

This has not been proofread

nor edited to fill the time allotted

There’s no one in my pod, and I’ve completed all of my work. My boss isn’t here. He should have

been here almost an hour ago. He probably decided to take a half-day or the entire day off. Hopefully, it’s the latter. There are a lot of things I need to take care of in the next few days to tie up loose ends and prepare everything for the move. Switch over car payments, car insurance and phone payments, finalize all health insurance issues, contact the American Heart Association early next week to discuss the positions I’ve submitted my resume for and organize a interview with they and other agencies in the DFW area, buy a plane ticket…blah blah blah.

As it stands right now, however, I’m here. I’ve sent over all my corrections, answers and

questions for the quiz I began working on yesterday for proofing, and I’ve checked over everything to ensure there are no more glaring issues that I could correct myself. Perhaps I’m working too quickly. I’m completing my assignments so quickly that I’m shooting myself in the foot. After all, if I finish everything early I’m less likely to stay here for a long period of time; because, everything will be done. That, and most temps take such a lot time to complete these tasks that I’m afraid I look like an over achiever. Like I’ve shot so high that when it takes me a bit longer (than these previous tasks) to complete something the people around here may begin to wonder what’s wrong.

Really, there’s nothing wrong. It’s just that sometimes I’ve able to get the job done quickly and

efficiently and other I labor over. Like the resume I sent out today. The things should have been sent out Sunday or Monday, but I had to take my time to mull over the damn thing. I proofed it to death, and I guarantee there will still be mistakes or issues that should have been resolved easily. That’s the story of it all though, right. Get everything done quickly and calmly and you’ll succeed. Drive yourself crazy over something and you’re far less likely to get things anywhere close to right. It’s an issue of questioning yourself. The more you question, the less you feel as though you’re able to or should be able to fulfill a task.

I’d like to move tomorrow; to get it done instead of taking my sweet time to get my ass out of here

and into my new place. I think it boils down to the same situation: I’m afraid that if I spend a lot of time on it I’ll miss out. Patience is one thing, drive is another, and I’m trying to perform a balancing act. Hey, buddy, could you help a guy out by spinning that plate I have going on the stick balanced on my forehead?

I got bored and played this.

The CEO has assigned you as the leader of your group...

As I sit here thinking about the likelihood that anyone visits this thing anymore I’m singing Toxic

by Britney Spears. I’m not exactly sure. Needless-to-say, I needed to get my mind off the song and onto something unrelated.

I’m sitting at this crappy computer again getting more work done as whore of this department. Thus

far I’ve: edited, proofread, wrote explanations to go along with the answers to quiz questions, web-published, filed, and stuff envelopes. It doesn’t seem to be slowing down even with the three-day week. It’s odd to think that there are days when I actually wish I were here. Money is drying up, and paychecks are sent out late because of my manager’s inability to sign my timecard. Yesterday I wished I had been working. Able to make more, get away more, and think about this move…more.

People are questioning why I’m moving. All right, actually, people have been extremely supportive

and I haven’t told everyone what I’m planning, and probably should. I’m scared really. Of the positive, negative or indifferent responses my friends might make – the only friends around here I actually spend time with (Brandon and Greg). I’m not sure if they’ll resent me, if they’ll be excited or sad. I really have no idea. And I’m relatively scared to hear their response. Though my excuse for not saying anything has been that I’m not even sure that the move is definite, even if in my head I’ll be gone at the end of January. It’s not a good excuse. It’s a terrible excuse. And I’ll have to say something in the next few days, so that when I actually am preparing to make the move I’ll have friends to help me pack and wave goodbye as I drive south with a U-Haul in tow.

Honestly, there are quite a few things I’m terrified about. That’s where I really am, terrified. I’m

about to take a huge step into the relatively unknown. It’s been over fifteen years since I’ve lived in Texas and I’m about to just move right back out there. My drums in padded cases, suitcases stacked up and IKEA furniture, still in their boxes, along the sides. I’ll try to bring some of the things that will remind me of home without the cumbersome things that will make me homesick. I’m not exactly sure what those things are, but I’ll figure that out later. Hopefully with my friends who won’t want to string me up and beat upon my person with a Slugger.

I suppose I just have a lot of things to worry and be frightened about, and a lot to look forward to.

Assure me that I have more of the later.

Today I received word that I’m in the running for two positions (one temp, one perm) at the American Heart Association, and I’m quite excited. “I never thought this could happen to me,” and all that jive.

As it stands right now, I’m still here at the American Academy of Pediatrics (from now on, it shall be called the AAP) working on various projects ranging from accreditation to the reorganization of supplies in storage to data entry and web-editing. I’ve really enjoyed it here though. A lot. I was never sure how things were going to go when I walked in the doors here on my first day. Things seemed off but comfortable. And now, it feels like I’ve been here forever. Now, all I need is some health insurance, higher pay and some new surroundings and I’m set. BAM!

Personal Post-It Note

Lofty Aspirations

Some days I sit and fester out the bad things. I’m not sure why. The process leaves me sick to my

stomach, like I need to puke. I think about things that made me angry in the past, things that should just be let go, and they come right back to the for-front. There’s no reason why this happens. The past is the past. What made someone angry years ago shouldn’t be held over anyone’s head, let alone their own. Worst of all, most of these things are trivial. Pointless events that meant something at the time after being overblown and should be left shattered, used as pebbles to walk on instead of boulders to stack up. Experiences that affect but have no effect any more. Yet they’re there, for some reason. And I just need to learn to let them go.

My mind wanders when I stare at a computer screen for too long, and it needs to wander back to

the present. Yet, perhaps that’s a factor in me leaving. To get away from all those memories and all that crap without resolving anything. I think I would be a coward if I did that. Running without resolution is pointless, and I’ll have to force a face-to-face before February. Might as well get started now.

So, everyone’s at a meeting. By everyone, I mean everyone in the entire department is gone. There

are two of us left in the Medical Journals Department, and we’re both temps. She has busy work to do, and I’m sitting here doing nothing. I’ve finished my task of checking over my last task, and things have been corrected. Currently, all I have to do is sit here. Perhaps I’ll work on a t-shirt design or something, create a logo, or check CareerBuilder for positions.

What to do, what to do.

Been eight days, some more money made…plans are laid

Hooray for rhyming boredom

I’m still here, believe it or not, but no longer amidst the wall of boxes and dust. Working on a new

project where I’m coding websites, and I was asked if I might be more interested in working on the Mac in one of the conference rooms. It was, by far. This room is quiet. And, while I can hear people moving in the common area behind me, there is very little noise or distraction. Pleasant coding on a Mac. Beautiful. Actually, I finished that project, hopefully they’ll have more for me to code soon, not more than ten minutes ago, and no one’s around; Ghost Town Pediatrics, I guess. People are supposedly in a meeting about something. Perhaps about they hiring me as Overlord or some junk, although I doubt it. Instead it will be about some near IRS b.s. that I’m told is a real pain and the reason I’ve been coding for the past three days...two days…however many days it’s been. They begin to blend together.

Regardless, I’m here until next Thursday, the 23rd. I suppose then I’m done here and I’ll have to

be placed in a new position through the temp agency; probably something mundane as I had been doing here with the boxing and the cataloguing and the filing. Have I mentioned the filing? Oh man, that was fun like a stake in the groin.

No one’s here, I’m writing a blog post, and…I’m done I guess. Next time there might be

somewhere near the content with half the enthusiasm. Bye, bye!

Searching around this cubicle I find myself wondering if there’s anyway to prolong my stay here. I’ll probably ask if there’s any more work for me to do elsewhere in the building or if I should just go home; to sit there, clean up my room and take care of loose errands.

I need a job.

How is it that I’m told I am “extremely organized”? Does that sound right to anyone? Most of my life people were telling me tales of how unorganized I am, and now I’m encouraged and boasted as “efficient” and a “neat freak.” Something fundamentally wrong with that; because of this, I have asked to be hired at $50 an hour to help people reorganize their desks. It won’t happen, but it was worth the laugh at my own expense. Organized. HA! Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m off to catalogue and box magazines in a timely and orderly fashion. TAKE THAT!

You’re lookin’ pretty slick

or some kind of crappy thing I came up with in traffic

It’s Sweden in the winter outside;

minus the layers of snow, the quality public transportation and thick knit fashion.

Seven-thirty and it hasn’t dawned on anyone

that lines behind them are stopped as well

as train after train take the wiser of us.

What does ‘n’ equal?

I don’t think my clothes match today. My sister would be ashamed. I thought that while I drove to

work. As if there were some kind of delay on thought. Perhaps later I’ll realize that I should have done something differently in the sorting out of these magazines or that I made a rather blatant mistake that will take me hours to repair. That is how it goes though. Right? When the clouds in glacial movements carve up the surface into streams. The day is just ruined by it. And I’ll have nothing to do but blink the dust specs out of my eyes, drink from the fountain and move on. Is that life? I think it might be, and here I go moving like a chased sloth. Eyes like a hurricane and legs parked. Then a giant boulder falls on you and you wake up and it’s the next day. Am I dress properly?

Life can’t be categorized in chapters; because, I’ve lost count. Not sure where exactly I am right

now if I were to think about things in chapters…or in any logical order. By age would be the only way, to a certain extent, but that’s about it. No categories or chapters (unless year long). Regardless, this is the goings on as things are.

There are mountains of books in front of me. On the floor there are books in boxes, stacked up in

twos, nearly touching the gray-topped desk, dust and dryness crusting over each. It has been a while since anyone has touched or attempted to file these. Judging by the burning in my eyes, probably a few months. My job today, take these books out of these boxes and figure out which years and volumes are in each, fill the information out in a spread sheet, and place the books back in the very same boxes a print out of the inventory on top. It’s repetitive and ultimately extremely annoying, but for some reason I enjoy it. There’s something far more cerebral about doing something, in a cubical, in an office than eating, sleeping and breathing in my house. The most fulfilling of which are the interactions that are going on around me. Each conversation and movings around may not necessarily involve me in anyway, but at least things are happening outside of the television or computer screen – even though, yes, I am staring at a computer. And there just so happens to be a plastic “window” cut into the gray-canvas cubical wall, and people wave as they walk by, smiling politely as I cough a bit from the dust and smile back.

This is, quite honestly, the most interesting part about the whole job, the overall jovial demeanor

of everyone who works here. They move past my window (I should interject and point out that most of the people working here are women. For some reason I thought that important to point out.) with a smile and move back past the same way. Perhaps they are just being polite to the “new guy,” but it doesn’t seem as such. Nice people, that’s who I work with. Nice people sometimes blinded by dust-covered, nuisances as fog covering the ground. Did I mention the boxes are annoying, burning my eyes, and giving me a headache? Oh yeah. Feels like funness.

There are far more pluses than negatives here. The water in the bathroom warms up rather

quickly, and no one is ever in there when I am. Giving me the freedom to inject myself without having to retreat to a stall, hoping my kit doesn’t fall onto the floor or in the toilet. Water temperature here should in no way be compared to that of the water at the American Massage Therapy Association (AMTA), where I had worked with my father twice in the past. The AMTA’s water can be easily described as ‘glacial’. Not in that it is pure in anyway, but it’s temperature was that of a glacier. Actually, the water was none too pure at all. I suppose it should be described as ‘taken from the depths of space.’ Yeah, that works. The water was freezing and contained dust particles and mysterious flakes that beg for the flavoring of tea and coffee to drown out it’s before, during, and aftertaste. …that was the most important thing on my mind as I went to get a drink of water and wash the dust and nast off my hands.

I suppose I’m done writing for the day. It seems unimaginable that I haven’t written for almost a

month, but when I look at the last post I remember why. Still getting over that though. For some reason I just can’t shake it. Also, this keyboard is driving my crazy with its ‘turbo’ key and easy slip pressing, and I need to get back to filling and coughing.

Been a while, needed time. Starting a three-day temp job today. More when I get back.