Disco Knitter

I finally got Mr Medical Supplies on the phone. It was a terrible line, and he kept cutting me off and never let me finish a sentence, but I have emailed a resume and I have a commitment that we will meet face to face “late next week”.

Today at the salt mine we put in place a new system of controlling repair jobs, and I spent most of the day putting little whiteboard panels on little plastic bins that clip to the wall. Joy. I complained that it was like being in a sheltered workshop, but the joke went flat. All the staff are under 30, most under 24. Still feeling like my efforts are worthwhile, and if I can whip the place into shape by Christmas I will be very pleased with myself.

And I listened to the latest Lime & Violet podcast. Violet has a lump in her breast, which is terrible news. What is even worse news, is that because of the way her health insurance works, she won’t be having it looked at until the second week of January. In cancer terms, that could be a lifetime. Basically, she has to pay a $1000 excess per year if she needs to make a claim. Not per “incident” but per calendar year. So if she has an examination now, she has to pay $1000 now, and another $1000 in January if her treatment carries over to next year.

She needs to raise money to pay for her treatment, so if you want some sock yarn, now is a good time. But now is also a good time for all of us to check our breasts, understand our health insurance, and make a change if you find out that you can’t get treatment when you need it because of the fine print on your policy. And if you do buy yarn, buy a lot, so that Violet can pay the extra $1000, and get her treatment NOW.

And here is another cute bunny picture, because they make me happy.

A friend has a business doing Apple computer and iPod repairs, and he wants to get the place ship shape for the new year. I’m helping out by cracking the whip a little, tidying the place up (a lot), and generally trying to streamline procedures. Last week I spent a few hours tidying, and today I spent almost the whole day nagging, cajoling, and bitching at them to throw out the crap, and find a place for the useful stuff. I’m exhausted.

And I am crystalising an idea in my head that I really don’t want to work in a shop any more. I love dealing with people, but retail really sucks. A lot of sales jobs really suck, but retail is the pits. A large proportion of customers are lovely, but there is that 1% that think they are the centre of the universe, and that I should be overjoyed at the prospect of selling them an iPod for a $5 profit. And since I am not overjoyed, in fact it would be fair to say that I have a less than enthusiastic response to spending an hour helping you to decide whether your merchant banker fiance would prefer a nano (because he goes jogging at lunchtime), or an iPod with video (because he has “thousands” of CD’s), because the thought of this causes me actual physical pain, I am thinking that selling medical equipment might be a nice change of pace. Or maybe drugs…

Legal ones, of course.

Absolutely no knitting progress today. Not a stitch. Am thinking that public transport = good knitting time, and driving to work = stress and grumpiness. Another factor to consider in the search for gainful employment. So far I have;

Must be either a) extremely lucrative, or b) very flexible and fun
Would prefer to be away from Apple
Would prefer to be able to catch public transport
Would prefer to work in a relaxed and informal environment

I think I should put some more thought in – it’s not really leading to any useful conclusions at this point. And Mark is talking about applying for interstate jobs.

Went rather swimmingly actually.

They went to great lengths to explain that the corporate culture in hell has been going through a regime change, and that all the horrible things I had heard were in the past. They love women and actively recruit them. They realise that they are no good at relationship sales, and are trying to change the culture, to the extent of cold calling competitors and poaching them – like in my case. Apparently the sales manager called me for a chat pretending to be a customer and was so impressed that he called a store manager to get me in for an interview. I’ve never been head hunted before, it was rather flattering.

They offered me the job. Well, to be perfectly frank and earnest, they offered me any job I wanted (within reason). They told me to name my price (but of course I have to pay my own way with sales), and I get to choose where I work. I can pick any of their stores to work out of, or a serviced office. I can start work when it suits me, and choose the sales model that suits me.

All very flattering and wonderful, except….

WHAT THE HELL DO I WANT TO DO?

I’ve been in a funk all day. It’s silly how something that should make you feel 10ft tall and bulletproof has just made me feel like it’s my first day of big school, and all the other kids have new shoes and ribbons in their hair, and I have a second hand school case and one long frumpy braid. I don’t look different, I just think I do, and I can’t possibly interact on a level playing field because in my head I only have one leg and no arms.

If I had to fight for this job, would I feel better about it ? Would I want it more if I felt that I had to struggle for it? Why do I feel like I have a block of concrete tied around my neck, and I am drifting to the bottom of the pool?

Should I become an agent of satan, despite my nebulous and incoherent misgivings? Can I be an agent of regime change, and use my powers for good ? If I was an agent of satan, would my duties be largely ceremonial?

I have “until Christmas” to give them an answer.