The Night Watchman

“If there were no rewards to reap,
no loving embrace to see me through
this tedious path I’ve chosen here,
I certainly would have walked away by now.

I’m gonna wait it out.”

-Tool, The Patient

So, thank heavens, I’ve accepted a job just in the nick of time before my unemployment expires.

There are, of course, pluses:

-It’s in my hometown.  I could literally roll out of bed and walk there.
-It’s easy.  Any monkey of similarly opposed-thumb lineage could do it.
-I only work four days a week.

And negatives:

-It’s on the weekend…at night…as in twelve-hour shifts and working through until dawn.
-I’m getting paid a third less than my previous job.

My wife keeps reminding me that this is “only temporary” and I can be “looking for another job while I’m doing it,” but she and I both know better.  I can totally see myself playing the part of the night watchman. Fueled by caffiene. Pale and LCD-lit. Closer kin to raccoon than man.

Until I burn out completely or lose my mind.  Or both.

Maybe the fact that I’m considering this job means that I already have.

Or maybe it is just another stop on the way to whatever I just consciously hesitated to call my “grand adventure”. Earlier tonight, I joked that this could be my opportunity to write the Great American Novel:

      • The one about living in a world where the upper-class conspire to steal everything that isn’t nailed down, or to keep folks like your humble narrator living from paycheck to paycheck, content with getting high and watching “pituitary retards bang their fucking skulls together” every Sunday for recreation.
      • The one about how a reasonably bright guy from a relatively-privileged upbringing managed to squander his opportunity to receive a college education and, with it, a ticket to career advancement in a superficial, uncaring world.
      • The one about a man with a modest home and wonderful family, compelled by circumstances to set himself adrift in time…like one of those guys who spends months on the Arctic Ocean catching snow crabs.

I don’t know about you, but that sounds like a lot of horseshit to me.

Honestly, this will mark the second time where I’ve had to hit the reset button on my career, and I’m rapidly losing faith in the prospects of me fitting into any kind of straight job. It’s been almost 8 months since I was working full-time and distance has certainly not made my heart grow fonder.

Today, I told my wife that the only people who are “successful” in the crypto-fascist American capitalist sense of the word are the ones who figure out how to (legitimately or illegitimately) steal from other people.

If I were as smart as I pretend to be, I’d be sitting by crystal blue waters right now…drinking $250,000-a-bottle scotch and placing a satellite phone call that would deprive an entire small nation of wheat or clean drinking water or something.

But I’m not.


About effwhybee

I enjoy long walks on the beach, ice cream, hate, hypocricy, venom, invective, and kittens.
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