Lumpen No More?

The clock is ticking.  At three pm today, I shall receive a phone call from a prospective employer.  I will try to impress him with both my technical skill and enthusiasm about the job.  The truth is that in both categories, I rate somewhere between awful and stellar.  That spans quite a range.  I hope to convince the caller that I am on the upper end of that.

I won’t lie.  It is both tacky and self-defeating to do so.  If I claim to be able to be able to perform in a job I flat out cannot do, my deception will not be a secret for long.  I prefer to tell the truth in such a way it works to my advantage.  It is much the same tactic I use when trying to convince  judge or attorneys that I would be a less than ideal juror, only in reverse.

I feel pretty confident about getting this job and since my brand of stupidity does not extend to superstition, I’m not afraid of jinxing my chances by saying so.  If I get hired, it will be for a contract gig lasting three months with a possible extension.  I’ve been in a similar position at another company and wound up sticking around for three years.  It’s hard to say what will happen here, if anything.

So let’s say for argument’s sake that the phone call finishes with the guy on the other end convinced that I am a perfect fit for the job.  What then?  Well, it will mark the end of a a phase in my life.  Two months is a pretty short period as phases go but long enough not to be dismissed as a mere blip.

It has been a time of leisure and time wasted.  Most evenings were spent at the Argus pistol whipping my liver with a pint glass.  My days were less productive, much of them spent napping or watching TV with glazed eyes.  Commercials would target those in my position, imploring us to jump start our lives by enrolling in their vocational schools.  The jobs they train you for are skilled trade positions, stuff like mechanics and electricians.  I justified my laziness with professional snobbery, considering such work beneath me, when in fact the only things beneath me were couch cushions getting flattened by my fat ass.

But all that is going to change very soon, at least I hope so.