Like I'm not under enough stress as it is, so how the hell am I gonna make it through Game 5 tomorrow? Sometimes I don't know why I'm so into baseball because I'm way too manic about sports and baseball is so not the game to be into if you're manic. Yesterday I was convinced it was all over and today….well, all I can say is that I'm so in love with Rich Aurillia.

Anyways, cause things can't get that much worse for your humble narrator, I lost the Temp job on Friday. The ole phone call left for me when I got home telling me not to come in on Monday. Quick, clean and efficient- like a mob hit (great Soprano's by the way). Good thing I left my CD Walkman there, thinking that I would be back. Silly little me thinking I'd be back there on Monday nobody had every said anything to me about any sort of problem. Or I was asked to come in on Saturday's to help out and my supervisor had joked with me about all the new work coming in for us to do.

Ironically I was about to quit anyways. I was thinking about heading home for a couple of weeks to rest and recuperate (it's either that or the Happy Valley Farms where I'd spend all of my time hooked up to a valium drip and do nothing but watch TV all day, something which come to think of it, doesn't sound half bad right now). And there's the whole not being able to check e-mail thing which did kind of bug. I mean, there's only so much patheticness I could take at any one point and having to shell out two bucks every day at the "Ben & Jerry's Internet Café" to check my e-mail is up there. It still sucks what happened, though, because it's always better to quit before you get fired. Not to mention the whole thing about trying to avoid patheticness only to find get fired from a Temp job.

To make it that much better, I got the message on late Friday so I don't know what happened. As I said, I had no indication what was coming, so I'm kind of wondering what the fuck and I have all weekend to wonder it. It could have something to do with all the late lunches, all the times I snuck out early, and all the time I spent online. Not to mention all the breaks and all the times I snuck out to make phone calls or go to the magazine stand and read magazines. Or it could be something not even related to all that cause it's usually what you don't think it is that it is. If that makes any sense.

I do know the person at the Temp Agency said there were some "concerns" voiced about me and that she wanted to talk to me about it. Which I can hardly wait to hear about. Right now, part of me is being ultra-paranoid and thinking that they actually were able to track my key strokes and find out the extent of my slacking off. Another part of me is steeling myself for something so out of control fucked up that I wouldn't even know where to begin. Like I'm wondering whether they complained because I was taking too much time off to do things like interview. Or that someone at the site actually read went in, discovered my blog (probably shouldn't have posted from work) and read all my comments about the place, including my not quite wholesome comments about the woman with the huge rack who wore the totally too tight t-shirts (which I kind of regret saying because she was a total sweetheart and was really nice to me, but mamma mia).

I did get in trouble for spending too much time online once, a couple of weeks ago. That day, before I was leaving, I apologized to the supervisor and told her it wouldn't happen again (me being so responsible and all) and the supervisor just gave me the "don't worry about it" hand wave and told me it was no big deal. She even said that if I hadn't been rat finked out by another co-worker, she wouldn't have even noticed. And I did always make the daily quota, usually a hundred or so over it. Sometimes even several hundred over it.

You know, as I sat there and typed away, clicking and clacking, I'd wonder about my effort as compared to the others. As I've said, I got some mad typing skills and could usually do like a hundred names in an hour, but the longer I was there and the more bored I was getting, the harder and harder it was to actually sit there and type away. After about half an hour, all I could think about was getting up and taking a break. It was killing me to sit there and it would get so bad that my leg would totally shake all day because of all the excess energy I had from not being able to walk around. Hell, I went to the bathroom every half an hour not really because I had to but because it got me away from my desk (you are, after all, supposed to get up and walk around every hour- the whole avoiding carpal tunnel thing). But I was the only one like that. All the other people there, all the other data enterers seemed like they were all completely able to sit there, hours upon end, and type away. Some of them were even permanent employees, meaning that was their job. That was all they did. Day in and day out, for months upon months upon months without even a thought that there was something else out there and that the job was totally, completely fucking boring.

Were they taking as many breaks as I was and I didn't notice? Or was it just me? And why was I the only one who wasn't going crazy, having to sit there at the computer for eight hours, entering names and birthdates over and over and over and over again. We're talking about a task so boring that mindless doesn't even do it justice. See, that would connote that there is a mind involved. This was so brainless it was like null-set mindless- something so mindless that it was if you're mind was extending negative amounts of energy.

Am I that big of a slacker? Am I that big of a fuck-up that I couldn't even make it through a data entry temp job for more than a couple of months? Was I the only there who sucked? Or, is it just because out of all the people doing it, I was the only white boy and the only one who didn't use English as a second language? It is, after all, hard to do that kind of work when you're an upper-middle class, UC grad, over thirty-year old boy white boy. After all, my great-grandparents and grandparents and parents worked damn hard to make sure I could be privileged enough to be a slacker.

Either way, even if it is because it's my bad, the whole way it was handled kind of sucks-ass. And all I can say is that between yet another interview, having to go into the Temp Agency to deal with all this, and Game 5, tomorrow is gonna be one long-ass day.