Where Do Cost Analysts Go When They Die?
They don't go to heaven where the angels fly. They go to a lake of fire, and they fire. But don't worry, we'll see them again come the 4th of July.
Cost analyst. It has no ring. No flare. If you heard it, you'd go, "why are you telling me this?" But as of Thursday, that's my new job title. Cost analyst. Why is it my new job title? Because I'll have a job, that's why.
Do I actually have the job? No. No I don't. Could I be counting my chickens before I fry them into some tasty concoction? Yes, I could be. Is there a chance that I'll absolutely blow this interview spectacularly and wind up being thrown out of the building onto my ass because I got into a scrap with three of the current employees? Never say never, my friends, never say never (editor's note: this scenario has never happened yet (be proud mom!). However, given the proper prodding, I could be talked into it. Just keep that in mind.)
So why won't that happen? Because I'm money. Someone tell me the last time I royally blew something in the clutch (besides those two times I got beat at the line in ODACs for third place, as Turb (read: the other roommate) will point out. In my defense, I had done approximately 5149 events prior to that. And it's not like I tanked it like some other people out there ::cough::DANA::cough::) . Point is, I'm golden tomorrow. Golden I tell you, golden. So no more unemployment for me, which lasted all of 3 days.
No more unemployment = I need to get up off my ass and finish unpacking. "You aren't done unpacking?" you ask. Of course I'm not. It's going to take me days, nay, WEEKS, to finish. It could take a couple of hours if I was properly motivated, but unless you know a good looking brunnette, the motivation will continue to lack, whether you like it or not. And you like it, you know you do.
I'm gone before this battery dies and all my work is forever lost into wherever work goes when you don't save and the power goes out. Oh internet in my house, how I miss you. That's all I got. Get out of my coffeeshop.
Cost analyst. It has no ring. No flare. If you heard it, you'd go, "why are you telling me this?" But as of Thursday, that's my new job title. Cost analyst. Why is it my new job title? Because I'll have a job, that's why.
Do I actually have the job? No. No I don't. Could I be counting my chickens before I fry them into some tasty concoction? Yes, I could be. Is there a chance that I'll absolutely blow this interview spectacularly and wind up being thrown out of the building onto my ass because I got into a scrap with three of the current employees? Never say never, my friends, never say never (editor's note: this scenario has never happened yet (be proud mom!). However, given the proper prodding, I could be talked into it. Just keep that in mind.)
So why won't that happen? Because I'm money. Someone tell me the last time I royally blew something in the clutch (besides those two times I got beat at the line in ODACs for third place, as Turb (read: the other roommate) will point out. In my defense, I had done approximately 5149 events prior to that. And it's not like I tanked it like some other people out there ::cough::DANA::cough::) . Point is, I'm golden tomorrow. Golden I tell you, golden. So no more unemployment for me, which lasted all of 3 days.
No more unemployment = I need to get up off my ass and finish unpacking. "You aren't done unpacking?" you ask. Of course I'm not. It's going to take me days, nay, WEEKS, to finish. It could take a couple of hours if I was properly motivated, but unless you know a good looking brunnette, the motivation will continue to lack, whether you like it or not. And you like it, you know you do.
I'm gone before this battery dies and all my work is forever lost into wherever work goes when you don't save and the power goes out. Oh internet in my house, how I miss you. That's all I got. Get out of my coffeeshop.
posted by Rich @ 2:08 PM
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