And in other news… I officially kick myself for picking the apartment I did. There's gonna be a fair bit of walking involved in finding my bus stop. Not good if you're a lazy fuck, and well, I am. And it's gonna be a uber bitch come the days of 20 below. Ah well, can't have it all. Good job, good apartment, decent city, so of course the location's gonna turn out crappier than it looks. Then again, that's why they invented carpooling. Or I can always, you know, take my own advice and stop bitching, suck it up and walk, dammit. But, no. It's my blog, I'll bitch if I goddamn well wanna bitch. Then I'll suck it up and walk.

This unusual combination of topics brought to you by boredom. Screwing people out of being distracted/entertained for longer than I care to guess at.

So, we're looking at one of said kitchen sets, when my cell phone rings. Now, this is like 7:30 or 8:00 at night, mind you, so I'm thinking it's nothing too terribly important–just someone wanting to shoot the shit, that kinda thing–and am about ready to tell them I'll talk to them probably online when I get home. It's a good thing I didn't, though, because it was the phone call that pretty much cieled the deal. I am now the proud rentee of an apartment in Ottawa. The lease gets signed this Friday. Two weeks from then is moving day. And in between now and then, I still have a whole shitload of things to do. I may decide at some point to probably pilfer one of Stacie's ideas, and throw a to-do list up here at some point, just so I don't end up forgetting something. O'course, that doesn't guarantee I won't forget anyway, but at least the next time I look at this thing then I can soundly kick myself for forgetting, and then go about the business of remedying that situation. I'm going to have quite the busy couple weeks… and it's all gonna start tomorrow. And the once half empty can of coke is now empty, which means I should be attempting sleep. Good gawd, the prospect of having something akin to a routine is gonna kill me.

Before I get into anything, though, I'll say right now anyone who tells me being up and actually on the road for 15 hours is fun deserves to be shot, pissed on, and strung up by their hair. Now, with that having been said, getting up at 6 to be in Ottawa by 9 for an interview that started at 1 is no fun. Fortunately, mom had an appointment she had to get out of the way, so we were able to get that done and still had time to swing by a decent restaurant for breakfast (by the way, Cora's (probably misspelled) is bad if you expect to eat a light breakfast). Then it was to the interview, which was a whole adventure in itself. First off, the directions we got were a bit misleading, so we thought the place I had to be was actually closer than it was. To look at the directions, it looked like the office complex was kinda right on the corner of two streets, in an area where, you know, it'd be hard to miss. Wrong answer. So we ended up guessing at exactly where the place was. We weren't far off, though, so it only really took us, maybe, about 5 minutes longer than it should have. And 3 of that was finding a place to park (visitors' parking is just not heard of in Ottawa, apparently). So we finally get in there, and keep in mind I had to be there 15 minutes early for the interview, I guess to give me time to clear the security checkpoints and such, and the first thing they want me to go through apparently is a manager's meeting. Okay, so no problem. Figure it'd take that maybe half an hour. Well, it did. Unfortunately, it took 10 minutes longer than it should have for it to start–I was there on time, but where was he? God only knows.

We finally got that out of the way, though, relatively painlessly, and he ended up asking me a lot of primarily technical/work experience questions (since when the hell do we still use MS DOS on a regular basis, anyway?). I think I did alright with that, though, considering the oddness of some of the questions. Then I waited another 5-10 minutes (they do like their waiting games) for the HR person who set up this whole thing so we could get onto the customer service assessment/simulation/thing, whatever the fuck it is you wanna call it. To say that was brutally tedius would be a grose understatement. I mean, I know the job itself calls for some degree of tedium, but that was just… over the top. It started alright enough, though, with anywhere from 150 to 200 questions related to the kind of person you are and work experience/preferences, that kinda thing–think personality survey. I think I did alright with that. Then they put me through 7 simulated customer service situations, 1 via a simulated chat environment, and 6 pre-recorded script-driven calls, or somesuch, for a fictional GPS tracking company. If you've never done call center/customer service work, I'll warn you right now–bring a notebook or a good memory. That was a simulation for an interview and I still had a hell of a lot of crapola to memorise. I managed, though, considering I only had 5 minutes to memorise it, and the only particulars I had to look at were the minor, customer-specific things, for obvious reasons. I think, with the exception of 1 or 2 where I know I kinda fubared the answers a little, I did alright on that section. We shall have to see, though. It was pretty rappid fire–you'd get done one simulated exchange, then they'd sorta quiz you on it. Then you'd move right into the next one. So at least in that regard I didn't have time to think about where I could have maybe done things a bit differently.

All told, the interview must have lasted a good 3 and a half hours, easily. Officially the longest interview on my personal record to date. I'll hopefully hear back, the HR person told me, in anywhere from 5 to 10 days, so… we shall see. 'Twas a learning experience, though, if nothing else, and definitely showed me that's something I'd at the very least like to learn more about doing, if not make a career out of it. It seems to be a bit more… I dunno, relaxed than what I thought, which is kinda a good thing. In between meetings, I was sitting in the front lobby talking with someone who's doing the same job I was being interviewed for, just kinda killing a few minutes before we had to go do our own things–apparently, he was applying to move to a different position–and I'm guessing they don't try to enforce a strict average call time. Either that or he just got unlucky… we were both rather amused over a call he took the night before that took him 3 hours to resolve, and it ended up being something rediculously simple–the laptop the customer bought had a network card his router wouldn't support. That'd be a kick in the teeth… 3 hours just to be told to replace the card or get a new router. So that was a decent distraction, anyway.

Of course, after the interview was over came the mandatory 3 hours of boredom–my mother and my aunt, in the same vehicle, in a city with at least 6 malls, maybe more. You can see where this is going. Lots of wandering through stores I have no interest in, and no actually buying anything. So after that interview, I got to try to stay awake for 3 hours while they browsed supposedly decent-looking art work, and other asorted pictures, then went clothing/jewelry shopping. My uncle, who had an appointment at the same time as my interview so at least they had something else to do while I was occupied, was probably less enthused with the idea than I was, and he can see the damn things. We'd planned to swing past my cousin's place, but apparently there was no one home… so we ended up going out for supper (by the way, Montana's is just bad, period) instead, then we headed home. And then I caught the last 5 minutes of a hockey game (rant about that mess to follow in a few minutes), thought about updating, half-ass attempted to update, and passed out. And now, I shall stay home today, and actually inside, unless I absolutely have to leave… because it is fucking *freezing* out there.

Anyone who's actually read more than 3 lines on this blog knows I'm blind, and use a screenreader. Specificly, JAWS for Windows, designed by Freedom Scientific. That lovely little piece of software, as useful as it is, comes with a nice little price tag. And they aren't always as quick on the uptake as I think they should be when it comes to shipping. One of these days, barring lazyness, I'll upload a demo of just what the hell I manage to do with that software installed and running. But suffice it to say, you're reading a small part of the result of that program.

Okay, with that explanation or sorry attempt at one out of the way, back to the original point of this entry. So, the majority of the delay was a waiting game on everyone's part. The HR person I've been talking to has pretty much been running circles between their IT department, their financial department, and presumeably the company linked above who makes the screenreader, trying to put things in place so I can actually do the computer things their interview requires. I can only imagine how much of a pain in the ass it is trying to justify that kind of a price tag just for the sake of an interview. Someone either really likes my resume or has lost their freakin mind. Not that I'm complaining, mind you. Then, it was all about the waiting for the screenreader to get from the developers to the office it'll actually be used in. And, in someone's infinite wisdom, it was getting here by way of Texas. So that meant waiting until they got around to shipping it to Texas, then waiting until whoever picked it up in Texas to get around to shipping it to Ottawa. And all the while, the HR person's calling me every so often with the all too familiar "I'm still waiting on it, but your resume hasn't moved". So apparently, he's been calling for a couple hours, trying to get a hold of me today, and I just finally actually got on the phone with him about half an hour ago–I do believe he sounded more relieved that it was over and done with than I'd originally expected. So now, I arange transportation, let him know when I'll be showing up, and finally actually get this interview out of the way so they can tell me to take my qualifications and shove 'em up my ass. Or hire me. Whichever. So, 2 weeks from now, rather than sitting in front of a computer looking for work and randomly dropping opinions on this thing, I'll hopefully be sitting in front of a computer, giving them a reason to hire me, and maybe if they feel like being nice dropping an opinion or two on this thing. But probably not. I'm gonna miss being an unemployed, lazy sod… but at least I'll be doing something!

Sorry Edmonton, you might have lost me. Not that I can afford the relocation fees anyway. Coolness does not a plane ticket make.

I have officially decided the firing off of job applications is getting me nowhere, so it's now time for plan B: narrow my options and kick down doors. I've got a few things lined up, one of which has been referenced here a few times already and others will be when something significant actually comes of them, so now I think if I can concentrate on those things for now, I'll… *probably*… at the very least get my foot in the door. And, at the absolute worst case, someone'll slam said foot in said door. But eh… that's what high pain tolerence is for! And now, with that thought in mind and on paper (uh, relatively speaking?), I now go remind my aunt I want to borrow her Constantine DVD before she goes 'n forgets on me. So, because I'm lazy, unmotivated and uncreative, I shall steal one of Buttercup's famed lines–goodnight, keedz!

1. He's gone through more jobs in the last 4 years than most people go through in 10.


2. He's either been fired, or quit before he could get fired, for being a lazy prick who doesn't do his job worth a crap and then calls in sick when it's convenient.


3. Before his probation period was over at his last job, ironicly enough with OLS, he was written up, warned, threatened to be fired for being a jackass with customers, and the people he works with.


4. He thinks it's fun to tell his supervisors, frequently, to fuck off. Then he wonders why he ends up in shit.

Yep, I can see it now. I can't work there, yet I'd end up lasting longer than he does. Assuming, of course, I can get them to look at me. I love your logic sometimes… it's so easy to tear to pieces.

Call me, damn you! Or… something.