July 21 - 10:23 a.m.
So I started my new job at Blah Blah Technologies. I wasn't even entirely sure that I had the job, that's how laid back they are-- but when I got there bright and early, they put me to work. Full-time work, even!
What do I do? Well. Do you know what a radiochromatic dosimeter is? Of course you don't! And neither do I. I don't think anybody actually does. Basically, this is what I do: Using tweezers, I lay out fifty little blue squares, checking them for defects under a light as I go. Then I place them carefully into aluminum pouches, two at a time. I order the pouches in a box and then I do it all over again.
It's braindead-easy, and seven of the eight hours flew by. No problem. The people are super nice (and, for the most part, surprisingly young) and I get to sit down. I was told I could even bring a discman or something and listen to music. Whee!
Since I hadn't, though, I got to listen to a "lite rock" station and talk radio out of a crappy alarm clock on the workbench. I was sitting with a middle-aged woman and an older-than-middle-aged woman, and I got to hear them talk about cheerful things such as kids being murdered. Phooey on you, talk radio. Also apparently as one ages, one stops questioning things one hears. I was more than a little disturbed to hear them say things like "thank god they finally caught that pervert," as the news announced the police had taken somebody in for questioning in the recent case of a murdered kid. They didn't say what evidence they had, and used the word "alleged" quite liberally, but my two coworkers were ready to see him fry. Whatever.
I can also take up to an hour for lunch. How much does that rock? (Hint: a lot.)
. . .
I don't think I mentioned that I was having trouble with the brakes on my car, but yesterday, I got them fixed. Or rather, my father did, calling it a birthday present. The brake pad on my front left was not just worn, it was gone. I had been grinding up the rotor, which explains the horrible sounds. That took up most of the day.
Afterwards, I went to hang out with the girl. She had called saying she wanted to see me, and it was "important." By that, she meant she just really wanted to see me because she hadn't in a while. Understandable, but a little odd since she said she was, for at least a minute, considering breaking up with me. Silly, since she apparently can't go for a day without seeing me. Heh.
Her comment came about after a pseudo-fight we had a few nights back. Nothing major, just the monthly overreaction and me being insensitive. Ah well.
So we had a lovely time hanging out last night, but I was almost consumed with guilt afterwards. I'm finding it very hard to kiss her properly, and I have no idea why. Right now I'm chalking it up to her making a lot of references to the ways in which she is sick, hurting and/or contagious (not very sexy, you know). But who knows? Things are awkward.
I can't wait until I get paid so she can stop buying me lunch. Maybe that will help.
