Day 197

Tuesday | September 11th, 2012

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If I ever need an example of how I don’t want to piss away my days more than any other kind of day pissing, I now have no further to look than Day 197 of living in Gyeongju. The only thing that sucks more than working late is working late on something you hate doing. (At least at the CEC I was riddled with passion for my books so staying late was both a mark of honor and pride to turn out a certain level of product and … I enjoyed what I was doing even when I knew I should have been sleeping.)

My classes were fine, just the scratch afterward of sitting in my suit, lack of food or interest in my task. Nothing sucks the life out of me more that fucking with a computer. If I could rope up all the hours I’ve spent dicking around with a computer and multiplied them by my hourly wage, I would have enough money to pay off my student loan, my mother’s student loan, and take my whole family on vacation for a month and cover their wages.

All those hours and time spent, go to where? I know a lot, but so what? In the 1990s I knew what every Guy, Jim, and Scott knew about computers. Somehow in the 2010s that has been revealed for the fad it was and I know more than everyone within reach. How did that happen?

I resolved over the summer to start charging for time spent and knowledge expended (Day 165 and Day 177). It looks like a good way to either save my time-soul or line my pockets with more scratch or just balance those two things in a happy-go-lucky life-with-no-strife way. I’ve put together a website for this already.

Tech Support by Caleb X

I spent last week hitting up people I’ve helped since landing here for testimonials (goofy, but that’s the angle: goofy tech sells; it’s what people expect and what makes them feel safe). I may have a first customer lined up for Friday. It’s not at all how I want to spend my time, but there is a need and I can fill it (and have more pocket money). At work, I hammered out a policy about what is tech support for the school and what is tech support that I need to be paid for. This will stop the casual-lazies from asking all sorts of, “Hey, my computer makes this popping sound whenever I turn on the light blah, blah, blah …” And what does that have to do with your job? Ab-so-poop-ly nothing … ergo, not my problem. Not even going to listen. Give me cash. Cold, hard cash and I’ll tell you why that happens. Give me more and I’ll fix it, too.

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