Well, I had to leak the rumor that I have an offer from somewhere else, but I’ve finally been approved for a temporary transfer to another division. I’ve made it no secret that I want this two-month transfer to become permanent, but the second-to-God here told me in a deep voice, behind a reproachful wagging finger, “This is temporary. Temporary“. Well, not if I can help it.

Meanwhile, I’m working at a new division, and after working at 10% of my capacity for a year, I’m now at 150% plus overtime. And feeling pressure after all this time is a sweet, sweet feeling. I say bring it on.

A whole website dedicated to trepanation (getting a hole bored into your skull). Proponents say this produces enlightenment and a perpetual high.

“Some of us are willing to present ourselves publicly so that the old stigma associated with making a hole in the skull will be worn down over time.”

(Thanks Dr. Wank)

The situation Wednesday:
Another division in the large corporation I’m working for is recruiting me. I like these people, they’re very active and see things the way I do. Plus I get to keep my seniority. This is good.

Still, I have an interview planned with another company, and I go anyway, though I’m not all that interested in light of the likely defection to another division. Turns out the interview is amazing, I like the company, they like me, they want to hire me as project manager. For 60% of my current salary. This is not good.

Oh well, defection to another division it is.

The situation Thursday:
Defection to another division becomes unlikely, as it turns out my current division has to approve it. They’ve already lost three people to that division already, and the head of the division is not hot on the idea of letting me go as well. This is not good either. Crap. Now both my boats are sunk.

Island ahoy! The “other company” calls me back, to offer me another position, in charge of their project managers. Better salary. This is good!

I know I talk about this a lot, but other than Comet pooping on my mother’s white rug this weekend, that’s what’s going on. I’m up, I’m down, I’m up, I’m down.

I had an interview today, as Training Manager with a reputable chain of boutiques that shall remain nameless. I don’t think it went well for me, and I can tell you it didn’t go well for them.

I got there and waited ten minutes at reception. Then I was taken to a shitty, shitty basement where there were shitty, shitty offices with gyproc walls full of holes and I was thinking, “What is this crap organization? Have they no shame?”. I’m made to fill out an application and wait another 15 minutes. Standing there, in the hall, next to the photocopier. Nobody telling me what to do with my application, where to go.

By this time I’m thinking about the number they’d have to offer for me to work there. And it’s increasing every minute.

Then we have the interview. The young person interviewing me is haughty, like they’re the ones doing me a favor I don’t deserve. She says the position isn’t really Training Manager, but she had to put that to “attract people”! In fact, they need someone to assess the displays in their clothing stores, and train people on improving the displays. So it’s “Visual Presentation Manager”. I ask, “uh, seeing as my CV is all training-related, you think I’m qualified for this?”. She says “well, we’ll see now won’t we?”.

Immediately after I mention I have been working in IT for 10 years, she asks “What about computer skills? Do you know Word?”. She asks if I’ve ever managed people, and I say that I’ve managed multidisciplinary project teams made up of people who were on loan from various departments. She writes down “no management experience”.

The only redeeming quality is the salary range of the position, which would be between an 18% and a 34% increase on my current salary. But money isn’t
everything.

Cardiologie fétale,
Nanotechnologie.

Transplantation, hépatiqueuuuu…
Pathogénèse du retard de CROISAAAAAANCE!

(If you don’t know what I’m talking about, I can’t really explain it).

Last week or so Patrick was talking about his encounter with really bad body odor, the kind that requires an exorcist.

Today I’m having a similarly unfortunate olfactory experience. See, I hate the smell of Jean Paul Gaultier’s cologne for men. I hate that smell so much it’s always made my stomach contract - even before I identified it as that cologne. In my mind I have a running history of the men in my past who have smelled like that, and there are forever etched in my memory as olfactory assaillants. I don’t want to insult any user of the cologne, I’m sure you’re all fine upstanding citizens who clean behind your ears. You just have chosen a smell that makes me sick.

Well, today while I was away, someone with that smell used my phone. I have used soap, room deodorant and rubbing alcohol. It’s there. Haunting my phone. Every time it rings and I pick it up by reflex, I am brutally assaulted.

Do you think bathing one’s phone in tomato sauce might be bad for it?

So my friends are going to see The Passion of the Christ on Friday night, nixing card night. All I’ve heard about this movie is how it is basically a two-hour torture scene, so I don’t see the point of going. I don’t mind seeing a retelling of a story I already know (case in point LOTR), but if it’s at the price of being subjected to violent images for two hours (images that will no doubt remain in my mind longer than that), I just don’t know if it’s worth it.

On the other hand, as Tom pointed out, this movie is a great cultural phenomenon and it’s only normal to see it and make up one’s own mind about something that is stirring so much discussion.

So, is it worth seeing a movie described by my upstairs neighbor as “the most violent movie I have ever seen” just so I can be in on all the conversations? Any insights?

…but I’ll say it anyway: the Oscars were boooooring. Nothing shocking, nothing surprising, nothing touching, nothing really funny.

Happy that LOTR won everything it was nominated for, and that Les Invasions Barbares won, but the evening was so lethargic that even those moments elicited only a little smile.