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Working on Saturday

Didn't get to sleep until past midnight last night, and when sleep finally came — I dreamed that I couldn't get to sleep. 

Then the alarm went off at 6AM, earliest I've set it for months, because I'd agreed to work for some guy starting at 7:00. We moved everything out of his garage onto the yard for a big junk sale that started at 8:00, and then he said thanks, goodbye, and handed me a fivespot.

Uh, no sir, there's a four hour minimum — but I paused for a moment, replayed our conversation on the phone from a few days ago, and realized I hadn't mentioned the four-hour rule. I had assumed I was helping him all day, but that was my assumption, not something he'd said. So instead of making $40 or $50 for waking up so early, I got one measly hour's pay, no tip, for an hour when I could've been sleeping. My fault, though.

To avoid having this happen again, I wrote my spiel on an index card and taped it to the wall, including the bit about "You gotta pay me for at least four hours." Problem solved for next time, long as I remember to read the index card while talking to prospective clients on the phone.

So it's unexpectedly almost the whole day off, which I can't really afford. Invited Pike's cat into my room, because it's always fun to watch her pounce and eat the roaches. Thought I'd write some zine reviews, but instead I've rewritten the above report twice, because I keep forgetting to save the file. 

Sleep — don't leave home without it.

♦ ♦ ♦

Whoops, so much for a day mostly off. There was a phone call, so now I'm switching into my scummiest clothes, heading out to Twin Peaks to help some stranger paint his house. "Four hour minimum," I told him, and also I said, "I hope you have a sturdy ladder to stand on, cuz I'm fat and I crashed through a light-weight wooden one once." He laughed at that, and said he'd have me paint at ground level, and he'd go up the ladder. Sweet!

♦ ♦ ♦

And I'm back. I need more clients like that client — he paid $60 for six hours work, twice my asking price. He'd said "painting the house," so I'd assumed exteriors, but it was inside, the living room and dining room, and as promised, he did the ceiling work. With the extra money he paid, maybe I'll be able to buy Sarah-Katherine's breakfast at Beth's CafĂ© next week, instead of going dutch.

♦ ♦ ♦

Pike had good news, too. He's found a job doing phone surveys, which is the same work we did together when I first knew him a few years ago. The pay stinks and the hours won't be steady, but it's a paycheck. Good work, Pike. Any work is good work. Now hang on to that frickin' job, pay next month's rent on time, and we'll be OK living together here in the slums.

From Pathetic Life #12
Saturday, May 13, 1995

This is an entry retyped from an on-paper zine I wrote many years ago, called Pathetic Life. The opinions stated were my opinions then, but might not be my opinions now. Also, I said and did some disgusting things, so parental guidance is advised.

12 comments:

  1. Doug,

    That was a particularly good PL. I realized about 2/3 the way through that I was reading it much faster than my regular reading speed. I realized that I was speeding to find out what was going to happen next. That's a sign of fine writing and competent editing. Nice job 20 years ago of taking care to turn on your reader. That felt like an odd sentence.

    John

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    Replies
    1. Felt like a day when nothing much happened, but I'm glad you were there with me.

      Delete
    2. Perfect Day by Lou Reed

      Just a perfect day
      Drink sangria in the park
      And then later, when it gets dark
      We go home

      Just a perfect day
      Feed animals in the zoo
      Then later a movie, too
      And then home

      Oh, it's such a perfect day
      I'm glad I spent it with you
      Oh, such a perfect day
      You just keep me hanging on
      You just keep me hanging on

      Just a perfect day
      Problems all left alone
      Weekenders on our own
      It's such fun

      Just a perfect day
      You made me forget myself
      I thought I was someone else
      Someone good

      Oh, it's such a perfect day
      I'm glad I spent it with you
      Oh, such a perfect day
      You just keep me hanging on
      You just keep me hanging on

      You're going to reap just what you sow
      You're going to reap just what you sow
      You're going to reap just what you sow
      You're going to reap just what you sow


      And it would best be performed with Pavarotti

      https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qupH9aLF4hA

      John

      Delete
    3. It's better with Pavarotti. I cuckoo for Lou Reed, but when he sings "Perfect Day" alone it's beyond my limits for sadness.

      Pavarotti could improve anything, of course. "Row Row Row Your Boat," "Girls Just Wanna Have Fun," "I Left My Wallet In El Segundo," Pavarottize everything.

      Delete
  2. Apropos of nothing I just watched the Beatles first Sullivan appearance. They were playing live to two time zones and delayed but unalterable to the other two. They were experienced at an average age of 22, but they were an average age of 22, and they'd picked up Ringo fairly recently. Sixty or seventy million people. It's so easy to miss a chord or a lyric or of harmony (John missed one note of harmony). Paul said they were pretty scared. Guitar strings break, amps fail, fingers cramp. And they managed to look like they were having fun.

    Yeah, I know they weren't the Stones or the Kinks, but for top notch pop music played with a little showmanship that was a moment.

    But I suppose somebody already scooped me on this observation. I need to wake up earlier.

    jtb

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    Replies
    1. I do appreciate early Kinks.

      Did the Beatles perform "I Wanna Hold Your Hand"? It's one of the first hits I remember from the radio when I was a tot. Kinda empty pop music, but they did it well. Those kids have potential, I think, if they stay off the drugs.

      Delete
    2. Yeah, Dylan turned them onto weed and it was downhill from there.

      jtb

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    3. I saw the best minds of my generation destroyed by marijuana. Just say no, people.

      Delete
    4. The Beatles' first appearance on the Ed Sullivan Show
      February 9, 1964

      Part 1

      All My Loving

      Till There Was You

      She Loves You

      Part 2

      I Saw Her Standing There

      I Want to Hold Your Hand

      Delete
    5. Then I only saw a sliver of it. Five songs in a one-hour show, with (presumably) other guests, seems generous. I saw one link that seemed to be the entire show, but clicking required me to register, and I'm rarely willing to do that.


      I very slightly remember The Ed Sullivan Show from some years later. The only TV where the host had less charisma was cable access.

      Delete
  3. How about "Just say maybe"? It gives us more options as we approach the end times. It's been a few years since I used weed, but it's nice to know it's there should the need arise. When it was shitweed I always had a baggy around; now it's killer stuff and I just walk on by. Life would be strange if it weren't so weird.

    jtb

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    Replies
    1. Just say maybe, or maybe say enough when you've had enough — we all pity the fools who never say 'enough' and are always stoned...

      I'm pro-pot, same as I'm pro-booze and pro-recreational drugs in general. My 'enough' setting is pretty low, though. Never smoke it any more, since edibles became an easy option. I'm so far removed from all that, I only know from word-of-mouth that today's weed is miles past the gentle buzz I prefer.

      Delete

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