It's been a while, so here's a bunch of things mashed into one post.
After moving up here at the beginning of August, I took a little vacation (for, after twelve years at the same company, I was still only getting a week's vacation per year, which for a long time went towards fighting in SCA wars — which aren't the most restful ways to spend one's time). I was submitting my résumé through a couple of online services, like Monster.com, and checking the want ads every day. Had a couple of nibbles, but nothing substantial — but there's only so long you can go without income, so I took a temp job to hold me until I got a real one.
I'm forbidden by the terms of my employment to discuss the client to which I'm assigned, or the precise nature of the work I'm doing. However, I can say that it's data entry — boring, repetitive and it doesn't require a whole lot of thought. About half of it is done on using a TN3270 terminal emulator, which (happily for me) contains a keyboard macro scripting facility.
After only three days, I had cemented my place as the "expert" on the system, given that I could complete tasks in at most a quarter of the time it took anybody else. This is, of course, due to the fact that I'm cheating (by using keyboard macros), while everyone else performs the repetitive tasks manually. Fortunately, nobody watches me too closely, or they might become suspicious about the fact that the application zooms from screen to screen even though I'm not pressing any keys.
The other half of the job utilizes a very poorly programmed Web interface. There are so many improvements I could suggest, which would cut the time it takes to manually perform the tasks by at least 40%. Unfortunately, it's a third-party program, so the client has no control over it.
Being a fairly low-skilled job, it doesn't pay a whole lot — but happily, the client doesn't mind paying overtime, so I've been averaging about nine and a half hours per day.
As luck would have it, the day before I started, I got a call from someone who'd gotten my résumé through a headhunter. He was very interested in hiring me, at a substantial pay increase from my job in Tampa. He was even willing to schedule an interview in the evening, so I wouldn't have to miss any temp work. He asked if I would be available the evening of October twenty-first.
Four years ago, Karen and I were wed. It doesn't seem anywhere near that long, and yet it feels like it's always been. There were a few minor setbacks — a minister who stumbled over the unfamiliar Latin words; friends who chose to go to an SCA event rather than our wedding; a bridesmaid who couldn't contain her dislike of the Best Man and Matron of Honor, even for the wedding photos — but nevertheless it was a great day.
The ceremony was the perfect expression of our love for each other, and of our love of history. The friends who counted were there, and contributed in such ways that mere thanks cannot begin to convey our gratitude. And as to the surly bridesmaid, well, let's just say that Photoshop can erase a multitude of sins.
Four wonderful years ago, on October twenty-first.
So Karen and I went out for our anniversary dinner a night early. That's part of what I love about Karen; I know some people who would get genuinely upset at not having anniversary dinner on their anniversary. But a job interview was a good enough anniversary present in its own right.
The interview began as a comedy of errors; my potential employer suggested we meet at Ruby Tuesday's. I arrived early, so I sat in the foyer where I could see everyone who entered. It occurred to me that it would be difficult to spot him, as I had no idea what he looked like — nor, in fact, how he pronounced his name, which contained two unusual letter combinations common in German but which (for all I knew) he pronounced in anglicized fashion. So, difficult as my extreme introversion made it, I twice approached gentlemen who arrived singly and asked for a booth for two people, asking if they were he. (They weren't).
After some time, I ventured outside. There I found my potential employer, who had been waiting for some time himself. Fortunately, he recognized me immediately, having visited my Web site and seeing various pictures of me. (None of which, I realized belatedly, were conducive to impressing a potential employer!)
After we'd sat down and ordered, he was quite candid: there was one section of my résumé he found troubling: my name. He'd already hired two Jeffs, which was confusing enough; a third might make things difficult. Still, he assumed that my co-workers would assign me a nickname in order to differentiate me, as they'd done with the other two. He spent the better part of the next two hours telling me about the work I'd be doing, the atmosphere of the company where I'd be working, and so forth — if I was interested in the job.
The work sounded great — within my sphere of experience, yet still challenging — and the pay, as I've said, was a step up. He expressed some concern that I was overqualified for the job, and might leave as soon as something better came around the corner. (I had to laugh at that, given the duration of my previous employment at less-than-stellar wages.)
So basically, the job is mine; all I have to do is pass the background checks (since the work will be on a long-term government contract). Fortunately, I don't have anything horrible on my record, such as drunk driving, domestic abuse or possession of an alligator. (I didn't even know that was illegal!)
Until the report on my personal history comes back, I'll continue the temp work. I suppose it beats hanging around the house all day in my bathrobe, though it is a wee bit more tiring.