BLARG! I have returned to my previous mentioned attempt to keep a journal for class and general amusement! Why have I taken such a lengthy break from this process? Is it because I am lazy? On most days the answer to that question would be YES, but as of now it is NO GOD DAMN FREAKING WAY, CALL ME LAZY YOU JERK ASS!?!?!?!?!
Sorry, I have very busy. Each and everyday I have been getting up at 6:30 and working until 10:00 at night. Yes yes, we all lead busy lives so in the end this is a pointless complaint. But damn, don't know if I have ever been this busy before. I literally use the half hour I have during my daily comutes. Fucking sucks man. Essentially, the problem lies in that I have class very early in the morning, various meetings and group work then takes place directly after, and then I go to work. Every damn day. Class: 8:30-11:30, Meeting 11:30-2:30, Work: 3:00-10:00. I then obviously get home, eat dinner, stay up until 1:00 or 2:00 getting whatever homework that needs doing done. Ugh, if only I was exaggerating! The problem lies in the fact that I am a) Directing a one-act play, b) for some stupid reason, I decided to sign on for a set construction head position for our drama guild show, c) I freaking work. Not to mention the rest of my classes. Okay okay yes, 4th year, I get it, I am supposed to be busy. But even working 18-20 hours a day I barely seem to be able to get it all done. Now that my "busy" rant is over, I will make a quick apology and move on.
So, in the theme of my rant, I will talk about class a bit first, starting with the dreaded directing scene. OooOOoOOoOO. So, I am super-excited about this entire project and I can't believe I am actually doing it, problem is, simply find a good show is like pulling teeth. Kinda tricky to direct a play WHEN I DON'T HAVE ONE! I have found some material that will do. It suites the standards laid out to me. Problem is, it's just not that good. I want a great play. Something I love. Something I feel passionate about in the same way I am passionate about the entire directing project. So, I have been very slow in finding my play. I did finally find one. I loved it, the script is beautiful. It is also however, terribly, terribly long. Too long, so odds are, no dice. I guess I am just waiting to be inspired. I keep reading play hoping that one will finally have an arm that reaches directly out of the pages to hit me over the head with a baseball bat while yelling "THIS IS IT! THIS IS YOUR FREAKING PLAY! LOOK HOW AWSOME I AM!". At least, thats what I had always assumed inspiration felt like. Maybe I don't even know what it is to be inspired. Not sure if I ever really have. So, if you don't know what it feels like to be inspired, how do you really know what it is? I would like to think the magical arm with the baseball abt would make it very clear to me, but alas, it has yet to manifest.
Work has been dull. While my days of pet store duty once seemed unique and usually containing some interest, they have turned into a bit of a monotonous bore-fest. But I suppose that is the fate of many jobs. Alas, I need the money to live.
Then again, something somewhat interesting happened at my last shift. First of all, I almost flooded the store. Lucky one of our high-school student employees realized that I forgot about the running water hose I stuck into the fish tank system to fill up the filtration unit. Another inch and I would have spent the rest of my night mopping. But that not the interesting part.
A man walked into the store with a cardboard box containing a small and emaciated kitten. This is not the first time this exact scenario has been presented to us. Not the second either. The man says that he found the kitten and asked with we could take it. As you might guess, we can't. We can not take a stray cat. Why? Because there is a book chance it is diseased. No telling what kind of infections it could spread to humans, or the other animals in the store. No only is this not the first time a man has brought in a kitten in a box, but it is also not the first time a man like this would not take no fo an answer. No sir, we can't take your kitten, this isn't an animal shelter, it's a pet store. So what does he do? Same thing the others have done. He sets the kitten down and walks out of the store. Bam, now we got to deal with a sick kitten. And oh yes, it is very sick. Upon closer inspection it's showing signs of several diseases and various parasites. But god damn it's cute. God damn fucking cute kitten. As you might guess, everyone who works at the pet store loves animals. Kinda comes with the job description most of the time. We don't have the heart to abandon the kitten, instead, we need to take care of it. Putting our health and the health of our freaking live stock at risk. I find it hard to be angry at the man who dropped it off, my employees don't share my feelings and choose to vent their anger at the mysterious stranger who has left long ago. The guy may have been a jerk to us, but he did save the kitten. He had some heart. Question was, could we save the kitten now that it is in our hands?
Most obvious solution to our problem is simply, we take the vet to the humane society. Thats what you do with these sort of animals ya jerk! You don't give them to your neighborhood pet store!
Okay, maybe I was a little bit biter at the guy that left it here.
The humane society however, cannot drive over to our store and pick up the cat, they are too busy. We would kindly bring them the decrepit ball of skin and bones our self but we a) don't have a car, and b) can't spare to take an employ out of the store because we are only three strong for a giant store. 1 cash, 1 floor, 1 manager. So the kitten stays, for now. I cleaned out it's mucous covered face, forced fed it some water as it was horribly dehydrated, and prodded it until it ate some food. It did eat, and under it's own power. A good sign. I then built it a little bungalow in the back room out of the same busted dog crate we used for the last sick kitten that stumbled into our midst. The entire time the kitten stared at me, not making a peep like sick kittens often do. It just sat there, stared at me, and look all together very pissed off that it was sick. Despite this, it was friendly, easy to handle, and gut-wrenchingly cute. Fucking sick kittens, saddest/cutest thing in the world. I hope it makes it.
I figure this is long enough and I will stop there. I need sleep. Tonight is my chance to get to bed a little bit earlier. I like writing this might be a bit of a waste of my time, but then I remember, oh yeah, this is homework too! Go figure.
Later!
Sorry, I have very busy. Each and everyday I have been getting up at 6:30 and working until 10:00 at night. Yes yes, we all lead busy lives so in the end this is a pointless complaint. But damn, don't know if I have ever been this busy before. I literally use the half hour I have during my daily comutes. Fucking sucks man. Essentially, the problem lies in that I have class very early in the morning, various meetings and group work then takes place directly after, and then I go to work. Every damn day. Class: 8:30-11:30, Meeting 11:30-2:30, Work: 3:00-10:00. I then obviously get home, eat dinner, stay up until 1:00 or 2:00 getting whatever homework that needs doing done. Ugh, if only I was exaggerating! The problem lies in the fact that I am a) Directing a one-act play, b) for some stupid reason, I decided to sign on for a set construction head position for our drama guild show, c) I freaking work. Not to mention the rest of my classes. Okay okay yes, 4th year, I get it, I am supposed to be busy. But even working 18-20 hours a day I barely seem to be able to get it all done. Now that my "busy" rant is over, I will make a quick apology and move on.
So, in the theme of my rant, I will talk about class a bit first, starting with the dreaded directing scene. OooOOoOOoOO. So, I am super-excited about this entire project and I can't believe I am actually doing it, problem is, simply find a good show is like pulling teeth. Kinda tricky to direct a play WHEN I DON'T HAVE ONE! I have found some material that will do. It suites the standards laid out to me. Problem is, it's just not that good. I want a great play. Something I love. Something I feel passionate about in the same way I am passionate about the entire directing project. So, I have been very slow in finding my play. I did finally find one. I loved it, the script is beautiful. It is also however, terribly, terribly long. Too long, so odds are, no dice. I guess I am just waiting to be inspired. I keep reading play hoping that one will finally have an arm that reaches directly out of the pages to hit me over the head with a baseball bat while yelling "THIS IS IT! THIS IS YOUR FREAKING PLAY! LOOK HOW AWSOME I AM!". At least, thats what I had always assumed inspiration felt like. Maybe I don't even know what it is to be inspired. Not sure if I ever really have. So, if you don't know what it feels like to be inspired, how do you really know what it is? I would like to think the magical arm with the baseball abt would make it very clear to me, but alas, it has yet to manifest.
Work has been dull. While my days of pet store duty once seemed unique and usually containing some interest, they have turned into a bit of a monotonous bore-fest. But I suppose that is the fate of many jobs. Alas, I need the money to live.
Then again, something somewhat interesting happened at my last shift. First of all, I almost flooded the store. Lucky one of our high-school student employees realized that I forgot about the running water hose I stuck into the fish tank system to fill up the filtration unit. Another inch and I would have spent the rest of my night mopping. But that not the interesting part.
A man walked into the store with a cardboard box containing a small and emaciated kitten. This is not the first time this exact scenario has been presented to us. Not the second either. The man says that he found the kitten and asked with we could take it. As you might guess, we can't. We can not take a stray cat. Why? Because there is a book chance it is diseased. No telling what kind of infections it could spread to humans, or the other animals in the store. No only is this not the first time a man has brought in a kitten in a box, but it is also not the first time a man like this would not take no fo an answer. No sir, we can't take your kitten, this isn't an animal shelter, it's a pet store. So what does he do? Same thing the others have done. He sets the kitten down and walks out of the store. Bam, now we got to deal with a sick kitten. And oh yes, it is very sick. Upon closer inspection it's showing signs of several diseases and various parasites. But god damn it's cute. God damn fucking cute kitten. As you might guess, everyone who works at the pet store loves animals. Kinda comes with the job description most of the time. We don't have the heart to abandon the kitten, instead, we need to take care of it. Putting our health and the health of our freaking live stock at risk. I find it hard to be angry at the man who dropped it off, my employees don't share my feelings and choose to vent their anger at the mysterious stranger who has left long ago. The guy may have been a jerk to us, but he did save the kitten. He had some heart. Question was, could we save the kitten now that it is in our hands?
Most obvious solution to our problem is simply, we take the vet to the humane society. Thats what you do with these sort of animals ya jerk! You don't give them to your neighborhood pet store!
Okay, maybe I was a little bit biter at the guy that left it here.
The humane society however, cannot drive over to our store and pick up the cat, they are too busy. We would kindly bring them the decrepit ball of skin and bones our self but we a) don't have a car, and b) can't spare to take an employ out of the store because we are only three strong for a giant store. 1 cash, 1 floor, 1 manager. So the kitten stays, for now. I cleaned out it's mucous covered face, forced fed it some water as it was horribly dehydrated, and prodded it until it ate some food. It did eat, and under it's own power. A good sign. I then built it a little bungalow in the back room out of the same busted dog crate we used for the last sick kitten that stumbled into our midst. The entire time the kitten stared at me, not making a peep like sick kittens often do. It just sat there, stared at me, and look all together very pissed off that it was sick. Despite this, it was friendly, easy to handle, and gut-wrenchingly cute. Fucking sick kittens, saddest/cutest thing in the world. I hope it makes it.
I figure this is long enough and I will stop there. I need sleep. Tonight is my chance to get to bed a little bit earlier. I like writing this might be a bit of a waste of my time, but then I remember, oh yeah, this is homework too! Go figure.
Later!