Jeans and Sneakers

Ok. So last night I went to bed REALLY early, but I woke up just now. 6am for a Saturday is still kind of early, but at least it’s reasonable morning, so I’m pretty happy. Now if I can just keep myself awake during the day, I’m golden.

I had a job interview yesterday. It was kind of odd, because though I look at Craig’s List every day, I only look on Monster and Career Builder sometimes. So Thursday this was, I scanned Career Builder, and saw a data entry job that was offering ridiculous amounts of money for a data entry job, and I sent them my resume. I got a call within an hour. That automatically made me think that he hasn’t gotten any responses for this job yet. I could be totally wrong, but that’s the impression that I got. Anyway, the guy had me send him my resume again, because it didn’t work through Career Builder, he had gotten only a partial resume. So I sent it, and he scheduled an interview for Friday. He also asked me what my salary range was, and because I wasn’t sure which job this was calling me back at the time, I kind of lowballed myself. But I still asked for more than I would for any other job, so it wasn’t that bad. But the guy told me they were looking to hire at the lowest in the range the ad listed. Whatever, that’s still a lot of money for me, so I agreed.

At the interview, he took a copy of my resume that I’d previously printed out, (yeah be prepared!! And I wasn’t even a girl scout!) and asked me a bunch of questions. I noticed that he told me the company that is looking to hire (he’s a headhunter) is looking to pay even lower than he quoted me on the phone. Fantastic. Well, it was still way more than I’ve been paid so far, but all this going back is giving me a bad feeling about the head hunter at least.

Other than that, the interview went alright, I guess. It was quick, and he told me that he’d get back to me next week if the company that is hiring (which is confidential at the moment,) is interested once he forwards them my resume and tells them his impressions of me. So I may or may not have a job in the future. It sounded like a good job for me though, because he said there’s not much dealing with the customers, it’s mostly just entering in orders in the system, which to me sounds fantastic. Just me, a stack of papers, and a computer. I could do that all day! So I’ll find out about if I have another interview next week.

Anyone who knows me or has been reading my journal for a length of time, should know by now that I pretty much hate my roomate, and his stupid girlfriend, that he moved into our house, without our permission, and so far has neglected to remove her from living here even though we told him to. . .in November.

Knowing that, he just made me dislike him that much more. He’s a smoker. I used to be too, but I quit, and he was supposed to, but never did. He’s notorious for not cleaning up after himself, and his cigarette butts are no exception. In the last house, butts covered a good portion of our little three step stoop, and the ground on both sides of it. In this house, I kept telling him to watch where he puts his butts. And he’d make efforts, half assedly, sometimes, to put an ashtray out there, or else he’d knock out the burning tobacco (most of the time not bothering to stomp it out on the ground.) and put the tobacco-less butt in the garbage, or in any container that happened to be outside. During the winter, he smokes on the back deck (at least he doesn’t smoke inside. There’s something to be greatful for.), and puts his empty butts in an old barbeque charcoal bag (you see it coming don’t you?).

Rob and I were going to go to a movie last night, but didn’t, because I was so tired. I wasn’t awake for the first part of it, but apparrently the house caught on fire. I assume what happened was one of two things. Either when he flicked the still-burning tobacco out of his cigarette, he didn’t stomp it out, and the wind (that was absolutely crazy today) blew the little ember up against the bag and provided enough oxygen to act as a little boy scout, and ignite the bag full of butts on fire, which was leaning against the house, catching the moulding under the siding on fire, and melting the siding. Either that, or he didn’t flick out all of the burning tobacco, and put a half or partially burning butt directly in the matchlight bag. Either way, the bag, and the house, caught fire. I guess what happened next was that Rob smelled it, and ran to see what was going on. I woke up when he slammed in our room, grabbing his keys and screaming something that sounded like “DIPSHIT!”, and running out again.

I layed there for a second, not knowing what was going on. Once I woke up a little, I heard weird noises coming from the direction of the rest of the house and went to investigate. I didn’t have my contacts in, so I couldn’t see what was going on. Rob was outside the back door on the deck, doing something that was making a lot of noise. The roomate was in the kitchen, and the sink was running. “What’s going on?” I said, and the roomate replied “My stupid ass lit the house on fire.”

I had nothing to say to that, so I went back to bed, looked at the clock, and listened to Rob yelling at the roomate. Then I went back to sleep. I woke up a little while later, Turbo was out and running around, on my face. Hahaha, he’s so cute. But I started sorting out what I remembered from the middle of the night. Then I thought, It’s a damned good thing we didn’t go to that movie. When I was trying to get back to sleep after it happened, I overheard the roomate say “Well you know I didn’t do it on purpose,” as if that made it better, and “I dunno, I thought you were soldering or something!”. Which brings me to the conclusion, that if we had gone out to the movie last night, our house would have burned down. At least mostly before he realized that we were gone, and Rob wasn’t soldering.

I’m so fucking sick of his shit. Rob told him last night that he was sick and tired of the roomate being such a scumbag, not cleaning up after himself in the kitchen, and now being so irresponsible as to light the house on fire. It’s strike two, and if he messes up again, Rob *told* him he’s going to kick him out.

One can only wait.

Edit:  To the roomate’s credit, because I have to be fair, he’s a carpenter.  He builds houses for a living (when he has a job) and he’s going to fix the damage the fire did.  So at least there’s that.  It’s a good thing our landlords don’t come around ever.

This entry was posted on Saturday, February 18th, 2006 at 6:49 am and is filed under Life Drama, Thoughts, Work drama. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.