Have you seen these new Quizno�s commercials? In case you haven�t, they�ve got this new promotion where they�ll give you a dollar off on any sub if you bring in a coupon -- any coupon (its origins and intended application both being irrelevant). In order to communicate this to consumers, however, they�ve developed this commercial where these freaky, bug-eyed rodents sing a really annoying song about it. I don�t know about you guys, but if I�m in charge of Quizno�s advertising and PR department, I�m probably thinking that creepy rats are the not the best mascots for my food service chain.
But that�s just me. Another interesting tidbit about me is that last night I woke up in the grips of a cold, dead panic. I rolled over to introduce myself and discovered that that panic and I were already well acquainted, as just earlier that evening I�d caught him perusing my finances. The more I lay there thinking about it, the more difficult I found resisting the urge to seal my head tightly in Saran Wrap and die slowly from lack of oxygen. An uncomfortable way to go, perhaps, but far less so than my original plan, which was committing seppuku.
As it turns out, getting hired on here at Arts-Friendly Non-Profiting-Employees was a sort of double-edged sword. On the one edge, I had to inconveniently miss a week�s worth of pay for January while they converted me over to their payroll system. Unfortunately, due to the company�s pay schedule (too complex for me to go into and still hold your interest), I am also going to miss a week�s worth of pay for this month. Sadly, I cannot skip a week�s worth of rent, or, you know, food (although I hear subs are a dollar off at Quizno�s), and so the gap of debt I forged at Christmastime ever widens.
On the other edge of the sword, now that I�m on A-F N-P-E�s payroll, Sophie has decided to more or less triple my workload, but keep my weekly hours about the same. Not that I�m complaining about my workday remaining a pretty standard eight hours, mind you. My complaint is entirely about the fact that her expectations for what I can accomplish in that eight hours have estranged themselves from any form of rationale or perspective commonly used in this dimension. Just because I�m an actual employee now, and no longer a temp, doesn�t mean I can bend space and time according to my will.
So, as my bank account dwindles like a tubercular maiden in some kind of period melodrama, and my workload expands to fill the void, my stress levels have found themselves at heights so great they�ve actually complained to me of dizziness and nosebleeds. And of course this is barely scratching the surface; currently, my subconscious is like a geologic hot zone of anxiety, each stressor threatening to cause an eruption of hot, molten freakout to come blasting out of me at any moment.
It�s a good thing that double-edged sword is only figurative, because seppuku is actually starting to look pretty appealing when I reconsider.
Someone Got Here By Searching For: "I�m not paying my bills" And: sorority lesbos I�m Watching: The O.C. Is Marissa the dumbest person alive, or what? Shoot her, Oliver! SHOOT HER! This Week�s Little Slice of Heaven: The Coffee Bean�s 7-layer bar. Mmm�