Skip to main content

You Don't Tell Me What

Well, here I am, sitting in a university sports complex, waiting around to get paid to watch a basketball game. How nice for me. That's a pretty cool thing about EMS, that we basically get paid to be around. Our entire job is to be there, in case of emergency. So, sometimes, we just hang out. And get overtime pay for it, too. Win-win, people. That's what they call a win-win.
So, here's another useless post. I posted last night, posted the night before--see, I told you I would get back on the wagon, or whatever they call it in this instance. For some reason, all of the terminology I have on that sort of thing seems to have come from AA. Well, AA in the movies and television, anyway. I don't know what they say in the real AA. Probably some depressing shit, though. Probably nothing I want to hear.
So, I am working on some writing project again. Kind of like I said I would several months ago. Ha. We'll see how far I get this time. Maybe I can actually commit to something for once in my life. The thing is, I have wanted to be an author since I was six. SIX. As in, first grade. A baby. That was all I could really see myself doing, because, honestly, nothing else was all that interesting. But, the idea of getting to create my own worlds and my own people and then publish it for other people to see...that shit was fascinating. And fun. I always remember making books in first and second grade as being very entertaining. Maybe I was a weirdo.
I think I've talked about this before, so I am not going to talk about it much longer, but it's what's present in my mind right now. Writing--how much fun it always was for me, but also how frustrating.
I never thought I was any good.
I'm changing my mind about a lot of things I always thought about myself. Interesting, the things that come with age and life experience.
SO, yeah, gonna try again. Got some really cool ideas working. In the meantime, just working a lot. By the end of December, I should make more money in bonuses than I probably make in one pay period. We switched to a new schedule format and a few people aren't so pleased with it. So much so, they've quit. And, on top of that, we had more shifts than we had medics to START with. Add in all of the people jumping ship--I don't think there are really that many, but some of my coworkers have emphasized unhappiness with the new format that implies more dissatisfaction that joy (I personally have no problem with it so far. I was only scheduled to work three days this week. THREE DAYS. Of course, I worked six, but damn the opportunity to work less and make the same pay is a luxury I thought I would only get from changing careers.)--and we've got a ton of open opportunities for overtime. So they are bonusing that shit out. Hard. The partner and I are taking fast advantage. She's got a wedding to plan and I have a lifestyle to maintain. Ha. (I may have to quit or go without working for a while when school starts. Not sure right now. So, all the extra money is going to savings--well, except for the money that went to pay for this iPad, which, if I get back into writing and do it right, will pay for itself eventually.)
So, that's what's happening. Definitely loving working today. Nothing better than hearing the tones go off and knowing they aren't sounding for you. How...relaxing. ;)

I Tell You What!

Comments

  1. Rider ToddTuesday, 27 November, 2012

    Glad to see you made it back to the blog universe. I figured you would once tgiving break rolled around. Hope all is well!

    ReplyDelete

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

I-5

On a chilly Sunday evening in mid-January, two young women rolled up to the TransAmerica Title Building on the outskirts of Salem, Oregon, just off Interstate 5, to clean the office. It was their usual Sunday job, though today they had gotten a bit of a late start, having to shower and stop for gas, so they didn't arrive to the business complex until after nine p.m. The office had wide, welcoming windows on every wall and, with the bright florescent lights flipped on, the effect was to create a fishbowl-like scene, the women bustling around in their duties like two busy, little fish. They'd left the door unlocked and entertained themselves by chatting to each other, the two of them best friends. They were Shari Hull, twenty-years-old and the daughter of the owner of the housekeeping company with which they were both employed, and Beth Wilmot, also twenty and a fairly recent transplant to Salem from Spokane, Washington. She'd come for work, and along with steady pay, she
2 comments
Read more

By the Barrel of a Silver Gun (I-5 Part Two)

In early February of 1981, authorities from Salem flew down the Interstate 5 corridor and assembled with detectives and law officials from northern California and southern Oregon. Each detective had a crime, or two, in their jurisdiction matching a particular modus operandi , and the list of incidents just kept growing. When they gathered, they had no idea the scope of the mystery they were unraveling or just far it was going to reach. It started with a robbery. On December 9, 1980, in Vancouver, Washington, a gas station was held up at gun point, the female attendant left alone in the store. A man entered wearing a brown coat and a fake beard. He demanded cash and brandished a small, silver gun to prove he was serious. The cashier obliged.  A few days later, in Eugene, Oregon, on December thirteenth, a Baskin-Robbins was robbed by a man holding a silver gun and wearing a fake beard and a band aid across his nose.  In Albany, Oregon, a drive-in was hit on December fou
2 comments
Read more

Wah Mee Massacre

On a chilly February night, five days after the start of the Chinese New Year, 1983, three young men walked into one of the most renowned, high-stakes gambling dens in the heart of Seattle's Chinatown International District and walked away with thousands of dollars of cash in their pockets and fourteen lives hanging in the balance in their wake.  The club was the Wah Mee, a sixty-year-old casino and bar that catered exclusively to Chinese clientele and hosted the highest-stakes illegal gambling in the Pacific Northwest. The men were 22-year-old Kwan Fai "Willie" Mak, 20-year-old Benjamin Ng, and 25-year-old Wai Chiu "Tony" Ng.  Willie Mak was born in Kwangtung Province in mainland China and immigrated to the US with his family in 1975 when he was fifteen. By 22, Willie was a high school drop out, working various jobs in and around Seattle, and had a penchant for gambling. He was well-known in the International District gambling clubs, including the Wah Me
2 comments
Read more