I accidentally leaked the URL of this page to a Real Lifeâ„¢ friend and I was told the content here is too cryptic with all the baseball and tech mumbo jumbo. So we have worlds colliding here and you’re killing independent George. A George divided against itself cannot stand! But I digress.

The last two weeks have been time lost in the world of happy capitalism. I started feeling symptoms of a cold on Sunday, Apr 9 and my resulting work schedule looked like this. Mon: sick, Tues: sick, Wed: sick, Thur: Off, Fri: Worked, Sat: Off, Sun: Off, Mon: Sick, Today: Sick. The only reason I went into work was the double time-and-a-half offered by working on Good Friday. Losing your voice while on the phone with customers is about 7 out of 10 on the scale of awesome things to happen in the wonderful world of customer service. It’s slightly below slipping a Freudian “fuck” instead of “fix” into a conversation. Today I actually only called in sick because I woke up at 4:35pm and I have to catch a 4:30pm bus to get to work on time. Although I did have a cough. *cough*

I’ve been theorizing why I’ve been so down for a couple months I think it’s mostly due to the buttfugliness of my city. When I wrote my Serial Murder distance ed exam at St. Mary’s University last Wednesday, I noticed a trend during my city bus trip. Traveling to the university, the passengers went from uglier to more attractive as I got closer to Halifax. In the reverse direction, the reverse events took place. I think Sloth from The Goonies was the last one to get on.

Now my workplace is mostly composed of recently graduated high school or university students who are temporarily employed while “looking for something better”. The other people are the uneducated middle-agers that are unlikely to find a better position. These are always the people that enjoy helping the customer. They sicken me to my very core. Now while there is some quality ass on the premises, these people are all failures in some way. They work in a bloody call centre! So what I need is to be surrounded by successful attractive people that will challenge me to not be a whiny little bitch like Scuba (how’s that for cryptic?).

During the initial training class at my job, they had someone come in to do the standard diversity training that you love seeing mocked on The Office (“It was affectionate“) . During that time the speaker attempted to claim there are all these stereotypes that are simply not true, like people from Halifax saying Dartmouth is the “dark side” and people from Dartmouth says the same about Halifax. You see, the difference is that Dartmouth is the “dark side”. Does Halifax have these huge white and red smoke stacks with a nearby poor community that has derelict, boarded up housing? Then there’s humanity at its aesthetic failing point. It’s like I’m living this personal episode of Deliverance and these piggies are a’squealing. You want to be in downtown Halifax with the upper-middle class of university students and young professionals. Some day their scrotum and labia will shrivel up and lead to bitter quarrels about who should drive the kids to hockey, but for now I’ll just sit on the edges. And wait to become that person without the happiness. OH EMO.

To make matters worse, I re-created a MySpace Profile. Dear God, what have I done…?

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