• I don't have prostate cancer.
  • My PSA didn't rise as high as it could've risen.
  • My prostate is in remarkable condition
  • I refinanced my car and will save $70 a month.
  • I have 29 months left and saving $70 means I'll be extending the loan by 7 months. Not too bad.
  • My orthotics remain in good repair.
  • They could last me another two years considering the carbon composite they're made out of.
  • Got another beard trim and I really needed it.
  • Ted Lasso S03E02 was absolutely amazing.

an old dream from 3/23/2015


Dreams are weird, making it redundant to note "This was a weird dream."

My previous, previous job was working in a boiler room as a telemarketer and appointment setter for an outsourced sales company servicing the pharmaceutical industry. No, I wasn't selling drugs but services to facilitate the research and production of drugs.

The owner was a fat Irish guy whose office smelled like a dead bear, and the joint was a sausage party. After nine months, they let me go because I wasn't working out for them despite putting forth a solid effort. Needless to say, I did hate the job.

Last night I found myself working for the same company, except it was located in a school basement rather than a dumpy house converted into an ersatz office building. Dream started out with me being fired, but the boss said I was welcome to freelance and maybe he'd consider hiring me back if I proved my skills. A weekend passed in an eyeblink, and I was back in the office. Walking in the door I thought, "Well, I'm unemployed. What else am I going to do?"

A couple hours into prospecting, dead bear's toady says I'm fired again. I'm stalking through the hallways shouting, "I'm FIRED? You can't fire me. They fired me Friday!"

I clambered back to the surface world, found an old car from the 1950's and figured it belonged to my father. Hopped in, fired up the engine, and saw a screenshot of his radio/telephone informing me that he knows damn well how to block his telephone number when calling people.

Relevance to waking life? Before I stopped all contact with my biological parents, my father would call and block his number. He'd claim ignorance, but I know better. My father's a manipulative fuck.

This morning, I found out that Gawker declined to interview me for their blogger position. It's a little depressing. Now, I didn't hang my hat and think this would be the end-all, be-all. Hell, I've been wondering if I want to write for a living, or work for someone else at all. The bad news, in light of last night's dream, just weighs on me.

So I rode my bike, despite the bitter cold (26F/-3C/269K!), and been working on positive, motivational thinking. Like, "How many people work there? More people don't work there, and are perfectly happy", and "There are plenty of fish", among other thoughts.

Just hard not to stop the voice in my head hissing and whispering, "You're lying to yourself"

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