CD: MP3 CD, cont'd (current track: Sex Pistols, "Anarchy in the U.K.")

Today I planned on going to Lackawanna for an optional job interview, optional because it was for an entry level job, nobody called me, and the only notice I had for it said anyone "interested" in the job "may" come by. It was supposed to be from 9 AM to noon.

What follows is the remarkable story of one person's ineptitude, ignorance, and bad luck. Firstly, I got 2 1/2 hours of sleep the night before. That is bad for an interview. It is also bad for anyone that has to wake up early, because it disables the Willingness to Wake part of the brain at seven in the morning. So after being late leaving town, It was time to find this Oz, this Mecca, this District Administration Building. 30 Johnson Street. And for the first time in my history of using Yahoo! maps (why the exclamation?) it was completely and utterly and unknowingly incorrect. Not only did it take me to James Street, not Johnson Street, but James Street is about 50 yards long with no buildings, at least none that weren't empty. I found out quickly that Lackawanna has three types of homes: housing projects, housing projects that try to look like real houses, and real houses that look like housing projects trying to look like real houses. Driving around in a tie, listening to Natalie Imbruglia, was like Mr. Dreysdale coming to visit. Luckily I had several sets of maps with me because I have a history of getting lost even a mile from my home. Also, it's not that I don't want to ask for directions, it's that I hate people. Anyway, after driving past it twice I did find 30 Johnson Street, and after two more passes I found the parking lot. The building was grey like the rest of the town, but it was also very dark inside. Too many thoughts passed through my conscience. It took me an hour to get here even without getting lost, would I want to drive an hour to work every day? I'm too tired for a good interview. I don't need an interview anyway; they've already sent me the tax forms. I'm half an hour late and it would be an embarassment to everyone involved. I don't WANT to go in. Is anyone even here? Eventually I reached the conclusion that the job was worth trying for, but it wasn't worth going in for the interview.

For the life of me I will never, ever understand why that last sentence makes sense to me. I never got out of the car. I drove off to do other errands instead. Quickly I found that I was five blocks from my friend Dave's house in Blasdell, eight blocks from where I was caught running a red light last month, and ten blocks from where I paid $120 in parking tickets as a plea bargain for that red light just one week ago. Ineptitude, ignorance, and bad luck. Today all of these things came full circle.