Workaholic

  It's been far, far too long since last I posted. To update my dear and faithful readers (you really would have to be a faithful reader if you're still reading my blog after all these months/years of inconstant posting), I've been very, very busy! How?
  Thankfully quit my job at SSBC. It was a learning experience, a humbling experience and a traumatic experience, but one that I'm glad to have lived. The people were horrible, the managers incommunicable, the workplace unimaginable, the customers discourteous, and the location remote.
  So, now I'm working as a "lab assistant" for a digital photo imaging company. Completely digital, so very few chemicals involved. And I don't even get to touch the chemicals, so even fewer opportunities to poison my body with funny fumes. I've been doing stuff like cleaning up databases, merging and loading databases, designing and printing (highschool) student ID cards, and designing/printing pictorial directories(PD). PD's are what every principal of each school would normally have, in order to be able to have a face for every name. If, for example, parents call in complaining about a certain student, the principal will be able to look him or her up. And there are also barcoded pictorial directories. For the school libraries, and other cool stuff.
  Commute is a bit painful; I wake up at 6:00am, or 6:30am depending on how tired I am, barely manage to make it downtown to get into work (in Burlington) for 9:00am. Stay until 6:00pm, usually with only a 15 min. lunch break, and don't get home again until 8:00pm. Try to sleep before 11:00pm, so that leaves me with 3 hours of leisure - one of which is usually devoted to food. Small wonder I haven't had the time to read my peers' blogs, much less write my own!
  But I'm happy. My bosses are very nice and understanding and kind, and almost to a fault. My current wages with them is significantly higher than the minimum wage I was offered at that horrible, horrific fastfood restaurant.
  Not exactly an expert in my field, but I'm learning a LOT at the workplace, and it's really interesting stuff. One of my friends, in a one of his weaker moments of good taste, suggested that I might get bored of my job after a month or two. Why would he say such a thing? Can't he just be happy for me? But whatever, he wasn't the only one. Yes, I know Burlington is quite a distance away, but by public transportation, it can take that long to get from one place to another in Toronto alone! Of course, they're doing that for school, and school usually doesn't start at 9:00am every morning, so they kinda have it a bit easier than I, but hey, I'm enjoying it, if only for the moment, right?
  Other things aside from my current burning desire to do better and excel at my job? Well, I wish I had more time to practise piano. I also wish I had a piano upon which I could practise more properly. I can hear myself play everything soulessly, and it hurts. I need to learn to re-sensitize my fingers to that wonderful world of dynamics. Where ppp does mean something from fff, and staccato means something different from legato. Well, maybe in time...

Business

  What does it mean when everybody has trouble relating or reacting positively to your good news concerning your new or current job? Only that nobody cares.
  Well, no matter. I still have fun at my job, and I still have the society of my friends, so no harm done.

South St. Burger Co.

HORRIBLE time. Never want to work there again. And I wonder if the "necessity" of money outweighs the effects it has on my life.
I was on my feet since 3:30pm 'til 11:15pm. Only ONCE did I get a break and sit down, for about 10 minutes, during which, I had the opportunity to read the Operations Manual for SSBC. My feet hurt, my lower back aches, my hands seem to permanently smell like vegetable oil, and I'm now turned off food even more than before I worked there.
So that means that I'm inducing extra stress on my already-weak body, I'm bathing my hands in repugnant chemicals, and I'm making myself even more anorexic than I already am (comfortably underweight, according to my BMI).
As a short ingestion history surrounding my time at SSBC, (one day so far), 2 hours before I went in to work/train, I had only a fastfood combo (not very filling, nor very healthy). Worked for almost 8 hours with no breaks and no food. Came home, didn't feel like dinner. Now is lunchtime, I haven't had breakfast, and if I were any dumber, I wouldn't be having lunch either. The thought of food now churns my stomach because of the horrors I've had to bear witness to in the kitchen of SSBC.
Money isn't everything, and certainly not in this case. I'd gladly be broke than work there again. Even as a homeless youth, the smell I'd accrue would be more easily removed than that accurséd stench of vegetable oil.
Now I need another job.

Love

Just wanted to share a humerous poem by Ravi Zacharias, apparently written in his youth.

Slippery ice, very thin
pretty girl tumbles in.
Saw a boy, on the bank,
gave a shriek, then she sank.
Boy on hand, heard her shout,
Jumped right in, pulled her out.
Now she's his, very nice,
But she had to break the ice.

The other one can be found here.