I Have No Idea What I'm Doing.

I recently figured something out. These people I'm working with actually expect me to know my shit. Not just the stuff I'm expected to know to do the basic, entry-level duties for which they hired me. Noooo. They want me to bring my "A" game! They read my résumé. They know about my experience and they're expecting me to put that all to work. And then some.

Nobody cleared this with me!

I suppose I should start from the beginning. Soon after I started this job, I was put in charge of recording certain bill payments for the ministry and, of course, the records were a mess, so part of my job was to help make some kind of sense of it all. It seemed daunting at first, but things were going well, once I got to it. However, unbeknownst to me (YAY! I can finally take using that phrase off my bucket list), there was a team being set up to address this mess and solve it once and for all. And, being the guy in charge of recordkeeping, I was automatically drafted into this team. I spend a large chunk of our strategy meetings either trying to stay awake or trying to understand even half of what they're saying. And they expect me to vet documents they prepare to make sure they are doing it right.

So, to clarify where things stand, we have a bunch of men and women, with degrees up the wazoo, years of experience in things like project management and finance... Then you have me. The guy who spent ten minutes one morning making nunchucks out of paper clips and staples.

They're meant for me to protect myself against paper cuts.

I repeat: These people actually expect me to vet things like the "project charter" they're preparing, to make sure they are doing it right as well as help prepare a trending report for the past 12 months.

I don't even know what those are!

I'm not entirely sure where they got this idea from that I'm capable of doing anything they're expecting me to do. Don't get me wrong. I'm not saying I'm in over my head (well, maybe a little). I just assumed, when I joined the public sector, that it would be a bit less... complicated.

I'm scared.

Autopilot.

I've been a little out of sorts these last few days. Well... more out of sorts than usual anyway. It feels like I've been on autopilot and, before I realized it, Thursday had managed to sneak up on me.

I blame it on how I've been sleeping... or not sleeping, to put it more accurately. There are a lot of memes out there that talk about how we as adults now appreciate and long for the naps we once resisted as children. When we were young, we had all this energy and no real responsibility to channel it towards. Now, as adults, things have been switched around and we have tons of responsibility, but the old energy meter doesn't top up as high as it used to. And let's not even start talking about trying to relax or have social life!

Somehow, I think we got things screwed up somewhere. Maybe we should start sending kids off to the office to deal with conference calls and deadlines so we can stay home and nap. Maybe even indulge in a coloring book.

Whatever the case, the end result was my brain being on vacation while my body went through the motions of getting through each day. In fact, it feels like my brain has become something of a slacker. He's always showing up late and when he does show up, he needs to "ease into the day". So, before anything gets done, he has to check out Facebook, read the comics and see what's going on over at Twitter, which takes about half the day. By the time he's done, whatever little energy my body had has slowly seeped out and it starts shutting down and I don't even notice my face getting closer and closer to the desk as I start drifting off to sleep. Brain then takes this as his cue to leave for the rest of the day.

Of course, my brain eventually does get his act together at some point during the day...

Brain: Hey! You ready? Let's do something.

Body: What? Dude! It's, like, almost 11 o'clock! AT NIGHT!!! I was about to take us inside to go to bed.

Brain: Really? It's that late already? Feels like I just got here.

Body: YOU DID JUST GET HERE!!! What have you been doing all day?!

Brain: I dunno... Stuff... I guess. Hey, I was there for class tonight when-

Body: It's Tuesday. We didn't have class today. The last class we went to was on Saturday, idiot!

Brain: Oh... Did we go?

Body: What the-?! Seriously!?!

Me: Would you two keep it down! I'm trying defend my new base here.

Body: Vinny, that's enough. You can barely keep your eyes open.

Me: But I just entangled a gold mine.

After all these years, I'm still a little hooked on this game.

Brain: Jeez! Let the man play, will you?! By the way, Vinny, didn't you want to write a post about that thing that happened?

Body: That's it! Off to bed! Everybody! NOW!!!

That's been my week, in a nutshell.

Last night I couldn't take it anymore so I crashed as soon as I got home from class. I crashed hard! Then I had a weird dream where I was dropping something off at some meeting with a bunch of priests and a one of them told me I needed to set aside time on the weekends to dance... I do not dance. EVER. I tried once and was asked kindly to never do it again. Then, in the dream, all the catering staff cleared the room and started to do the Harlem Shake.

I'm not even going to start.

Now I'm rested and it feel like everybody's on the same page again, hence me writing this nonsense. I think I've learned my lesson and I'm definitely going to try not to neglect getting what sleep I can.

Only now I'm worried about what I'm going to dream up next.

Me Vs. Nature: Part II - Natural Enemy.

MONDAY - 2:21AM: I sit, unable to sleep. Sleep was taken from me tonight by the incursion of an old enemy. Hopefully, by the time you're reading this I'll finally be able to go to bed. I suppose I'd better start at the beginning.

Mrs. C and I had settled down for bed. The lights were off, the room was cozy, everything was right. Sleep didn't come as quickly as it normally would, but eventually I began to feel consciousness slowly slip away. Like an old movie reel slowly whirring into operation, the random images that would be my dreams began to flicker in my mind. Sleep was coming, and I gladly welcomed it.

...

But this was not to last. From the part of my mind that was still semi-conscious, I could sense a disturbance. This was further emphasized when heard my wife next to me growl in frustration. It was then I came to just enough to hear what it was. Something had gotten all the dogs on the street riled up and they were all barking their heads off. Not the first time. I decided to ignore it and apparently so did Mrs. C.

Soon the lights in my brain began to flicker again as images began to fill my subconscious. I wasn't fully asleep when I felt it. A prickly feeling move across the back of my hand. In the dark my eyes opened as I flung my hand upward. That's right! A COCKROACH had just run across my hand!

*Shudder*.

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I knew what it was instantly. At that moment, all it took was one fluid motion for me to be up, out of bed and flicking on the light switch. At this point I should point out that I'm not one to go into a panic when I see one of these things, but I will not - under any circumstances - tolerating them actually touching me. All this stems from something that happened a long time ago. An event that has been indelibly etched into my brain and may forever haunt me...

You see (*lays down on couch, clasps hands on chest and looks up at ceiling*) it all began when I was about 5 years old. I remember it well. I was getting ready for bed and putting my PJs. I had just buttoned up my shirt when I felt this strange prickling sensation on my stomach. Curious, I undid the buttons to see what was the cause of this sensation and there, running up my little chest, you can guess... Our gazes met, I shrieked, it flew away. I've been scarred since. It was a brief encounter but, since then, I've made it my mission to kill any of these creatures once they dared to venture into my personal space.

You understand.

Anyway, during this most recent encounter, my movements woke Mrs. C just enough to ask me what had happened. I told her what was going on and she, not being overly concerned, pulled her covers again.

I know, right? You'd think she'd at least be worried, especially since the hand the bug crawled over was the one that was thrown over her shoulder, which meant it was only inches from her face. Nothing! She wanted to sleep and nothing was going to stop her. Or at least she tried to. When she realized I wasn't taking the light off until I found the bug, she decided to use the opportunity to go to the bathroom.

It didn't take me long to find it. I've discovered over the years that cockroaches aren't very good at hiding when they're spooked and usually scamper around the place like crazy. This time was no exception. I grabbed a slipper and brought its existence to a quick end. By the time Mrs. C came back into the room I was already back in bed, satisfied that I had made the world a safer place. My wife, however, just gave me this kinda look and nodded before she flipped the light off again.

Honestly, she should have been thanking me. No appreciation whatsoever!

We settle in again. Several minutes passed as we lay in the dark. Satisfied that the ordeal was over I tried not to let the earlier excitement get to me and waited for sleep to come. Then... I heard a familiar fluttering.

Me: Son of a bitch!

Mrs. C: What?

Me: Another one just flew right above my head!

Mrs. C: GROAN!!!

Needless to say, the light was again. Only, this time Mrs C didn't bother to get up. She decided she was going to leave me to face my demons alone. This new invader was smarter than the last one and stayed hidden. After a few minutes I decided to call it quits and go back to bed. But it was no good. Did you know that if it's quiet enough, you can head them scurrying about? Well if you didn't, yes, you most certainly can. It was decided. I wasn't getting to sleep this night.

The cause? My best guess is that, for the first time in days, it rained yesterday. And this wasn't just any sprinkle either. The rains came early in the morning, poured for a long time and never really stopped until evening. Even when it lightened up, it continued all day. This, I suspect drove them from the vacant overgrown lot next door, seeking drier ground. Our open window was just the invitation they needed.

As for me, I got up, grabbed the can of bug spray and went into the living room where I surfed the web until sunrise. I couldn't spray the room since Mrs. C is still peacefully asleep in there so here I am. The bug spray is in case they decide to follow me outside too.

I'll sleep when the sun comes up. I'll be safe then.

Random Thoughts Of A Sleep Deprived Mind.

For those of you who have noticed my lack of posting this week, I've been in the midst of end of semester exams. For those of you who haven't, well... I haven't been posting this week... because of... exams.

I recently finished a final project for one of my classes which kept me up until 4:30am and I haven't had chance to get a full night's sleep since.

I think that is the reason I've had all kinds of random things bouncing around my head that I thought I could slap together were funny enough to make a post. Kinda like my old "Random Tuesday Thought" posts I used to do back in the day.

I blame sleep deprivation for what comes next...

- The other day I was folding a shirt when I realized it was inside out. The first thing I thought about was hitting the "Undo" button. That's when I realized I've probably been spending too much time at the computer. Then the next thing I thought of was to blog about it.

- We've been battling a serious ant infestation in our home. I think they're winning. The other morning they scored a victory by getting inside our electric kettle's wiring and rendering it useless. Don't ask me how.

- I learned the other day that two jumbo hot dogs are my limit. I know. I’m a total lightweight. I was able to figure this out very out soon after jumbo hot dog number four.



Not a good day.

- Up the street there's a yard with two really big dogs. I think one of is mixed with a smaller breed because his front legs are noticeably shorter than his back legs. I call him Dogosaurus Rex. He amuses me.

I miss those RTT days.


I'd say I need a nap but I'm actually about to leave for work. Plus, this is a six-day work week for me and I still have a Math assignment and two exams left.


Joy.

Icebreaker.

 I just had my interview at the newspaper.

I got up at 3:32 this morning. I don't know why. Nerves, I guess. This was the day of my interview and all and I always had a habit of getting up early whenever there was a big event. Things like school trips back in the day, my wedding day, the first day at a new job, anything that could make me anxious did this to me.

I stayed in bed until 5AM when it was time to wake Mrs. C to get ready for work. Once she knew of my situation she then insisted that I do nothing but try to get back to sleep. I did, but try as I would, I couldn't fall asleep again.

This is gonna be fun...

Just like the rules say, I got there early (a minute and a half still counts). Fortunately I wasn't sweating as much as I normally do. Did I ever mention that I sweat? Like A LOT? Especially when I'm nervous. I know! Way to make an impression, right?! Anyway, I mopped what little was on my face and waited. To my surprise, I wasn't left to wait too long. In a few interviews in the past, even though I was early or on time I still ended up waiting for sometimes 20 minutes until they were ready. Well, let's just say this wasn't the first unusual thing to happen during the interview.

It started off (and basically ended) with an icebreaker question. One of the interviewers came in and handed me a sheet of paper with a single question on it I was told to answer it and they'd be with me shortly. Then he left. I looked at the question on the paper and the scenario presented didn't seem to make any sense. So I answered that I couldn't answer it. That is, not until some more information was provided and, instead, I wrote down my own questions that would provide me with some clarification.

Turns out that wasn't exactly what they were expecting. So, in a nutshell, we didn't get much further than that icebreaker. Sure, a few follow-up questions were asked. A formality, I suppose. But after I had answered they had already made up their minds.

To paraphrase, they basically said that my response wasn't what they were looking for but it proved that I thought outside the box and was able to dig deeper for more information. They said that these were important aspects for a journalist and that I had passed (what I was to learn was actually) the first half of the interview. Now I'm just to expect a call for interview number 2.

Holy crap! I pulled it off!?!

That's right! I didn't totally screw it up. I'm not hired (yet) but they definitely are interested. Nothing is confirmed yet other than they'll call me to set an appointment for the second interview, but things are looking good.

Plus... They gave me homework.

No kidding.

Oh, For the Love Of Coffee!

Yes, this one is new.
[UPDATE: I switched it out. Put up the unfinished one by mistake.]

I'm sure you're all well aware of my obsession affection for the quirky and lovable nation of Japan. But, think back. There is one thing that I do love more that. In fact, this one thing the top spot in my heart-next to my lovely wife, of course!

Hi, sweetness! (*whispers* - She may be reading this. *wink*)

But, I digress. Of course, we're talking about coffee, java, the cup o' joe, the sweet, sweet nectar from those wonderful magic beans.

So... beautiful...
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Why do I bring this up? Because it's the subject of my post on Sprocket Ink today, that's why.

It's some great news for coffee drinkers-nay- coffee lovers everywhere. News so wonderful you'll feel like cheering, like celebrating, like lifting a toast (with a cup of coffee, of course). This news will help to further silence those anti-coffee Nazis. Don't believe me? Well follow the link over to my post on Sprocket Ink and see for yourselves.

Just Where Have You Been This Week? - I've Been Doing... Stuff...

This one is going to be a quickie because I was watching back-to-back episodes of Criminal Minds online until about 2AM this morning and my brain is a warm gooey mush of sleep deprivation. On a side note, if you need me to work-up a profile on anyone, I think I'm ready. On another side note, I think I'm scared of all my neighbors, now.

- Yeah, it's been that kind of week. Filled with copious amounts of non-productivity. My week began with Tuesday's article on Sprocket Ink. The one with the prison breaking cow (And the awesome title).

- I didn't post again until Thursday with another story on Sprocket about how a celebrity peeing in a plane could cause another stupid craze. My post here on my blog followed the same day with me giving some random, miscellaneous updates of what I was doing while I was slacking off this week.

- I did have an actual post here on Friday, though. In it I told some crazy stories about my and Mrs. C's (mis)adventures in customer service.

And that's a wrap.If anyone needs me I'll be theorizing about just how many shallow graves there might be in the abandoned, overgrown yard next door. It's the perfect place for 'em.

Or sleeping. I might be doing that.

Sometimes It's Nice To Know You're Not The Only One.

As I have mentioned in the past, I use to be in banking. I also mentioned that, due to the poor handling on my part of some situations during that time, I was forced to leave it. It's okay, though. I'm over it.

As I've also mentioned, my wife works for a bank as well. She was lucky. She did data entry there and never had to see a single customer. There was a down side, though. She worked on evenings and our, then, routine was me leaving for work with her fast asleep and her coming home from work after I was already in bed. I used to joke that we were only married on weekends because that was when we actually spent any kind of time together. After multiple transfer requests, they got tired of her... persistence and now she's a teller, working the day-shift in a regular branch.

Because of my experience on the customer service side of things, I try help Mrs. C learn from the mistakes that I made. I warn her from time-to-time about the various perils and, especially, the crazies she'd inevitably meet.

For example, there was the time I had to decline someone's loan because his demands were impossible to meet and he wouldn't listen to reason. There was just no way to approve it.  He, however, said I declined his loan because I was racist. He neglected to take into consideration that we were both of the same race when he made the charge though.

Another time, there was this guy who would apparently come in every few months to complain about discrepancies on his credit card statements. Even though I was in loans, the person dealing with him decided to shovel him off on the next available person and basically conned me into seeing him. By the time I realized he wasn't applying for a new credit card, it was too late.

It was during this meeting that the customer confided in me that the bank was conspiring to hide the truth about his credit card info and that he finally had proof. That proof being his "real" credit card statement versus a "phony" copy the he was provided with.

Customer: You can see it right here! The bank's logo on my copy I got in the mail is red. This other copy they gave me has a black logo.

Me: Okaaaay... What else?

Customer: What do you mean? Mine is obviously the official thing because it's in color. The one they printed and gave me isn't so it has to be made-up.
Me: But the information on both is exactly the same.
Customer: *blink*

Me: Who gave it to you?

Customer: Them. Over by that counter just now.

He was pointing at the CSR counter across the floor. They only have a black and white printer there.

But, this past Wednesday morning was Mrs. C's turn. Like so many of my customers, her encounter had her a state of bewilderment that lasted for about half a day.

Customer 2: I'd like to make a withdrawal.

Mrs. C: Sure. One second... I'm sorry. You don't seem to have any money in your account.

Customer 2: But my disability comes in at the end of every month.

Mrs. C: Wait, please. Let me check the history. Oh yes. It did come in at that time. But it looks like you withdrew it already.

Customer 2: I'm not talking about that. I'm talking about this months payment. It should be there. It comes in at the end of every month, you know.

Mrs. C: Um... sir. It's only the the 17th.

Customer: *blink*

Mrs. C: It isn't the end of the month yet.

Customer: But... the full moon already passed...

Mrs. C: Okaaaay... (places hand close to panic button).

Luckily, her customer left soon after that without incident. I assume to consult with the moon again and make sure their schedules sync-up.

Knowing the crazies exist and actually encountering them are two different things and you almost never know what's going to happen next. Almost makes me nostalgic, to be honest.

Not really.

What’s More Fun Than Moving?

The correct answer would be:

Having to move and jury service. Both. at. the same. time.

Outstanding…

Even better than that is that they both keep dragging out. We were all ready to go yesterday when we found out our new place wasn't ready to receive us. The landlady had some workmen in to install a new kitchen and they left a huge mess. So we move today instead.

As for the jury service, I wasn’t one of the jurors selected for the current case so I have to go back next week. AGAIN! I know! Awesome, right? There’s nothing an unemployed person likes to do more than drag his ass out of bed, get dressed and head into the city to be bored out of his mind all day. This may sound familiar. That's because that is exactly how an actual job is like. Right? But, seeing as I'm not getting paid for this I'm going to go to have to conclude that I am, in fact, still unemployed.

Anyway, as easy as it would be to get into a full-on rant about all of this, I’m going to change the atmosphere a little. Being that this is my first time doing jury service, I’ve decided to share a little what I’ve learned so far:

- The building that houses all of the courtrooms is called the “Hall of Justice”. I've only been in it a few times but I can confirm with a reasonable amount of certainty that the Super Friends do not operate from this building. Very disappointing.

The building doesn't even look the same!
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- Our legal system here in Trinidad and Tobago is based on the British legal system. That means the attorneys and even the judges (known as magistrates here) all wear long, flowing, black robes. All they’re missing are hoods and sickles.

I object!
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- Jurors don’t get robes. Or hoods, or sickles. What the hell is up with that?! Aren't we all part of the team now? We’re helping you all do your jobs, people! How about letting us show some team spirit here?

- The attorneys who gracefully glide across the floors of the (impostor) “Hall of Justice” are infinitely more intelligent and important that that we are and ever will be. They know that and they want us to know that too.

- In the courtroom, cell phones are supposed to be turned OFF. Not on vibrate. Not even on silent. The magistrate hates when you disobey this rule. She will stop whatever is going on to express, at great length, her displeasure at the buzzing sound caused by a cell phone disrupting the courtroom’s recording equipment. She get’s really pissed if you text during proceedings.

- Finally, the magistrate – at least the one in the courtroom I’ve been sleeping in assigned to, anyway - does not have a gavel. The hell!?! I thought that one of the perks of that job. If I’m going to be judge, I want a freaking tiny hammer I can bang to shut everyone up, dammit!

I picked all of this up and I haven’t been sitting in on an actual case yet. Who knew there was so much I could learn about the judicial process?