A Week in Vignettes

This week was a roller coaster. A roller coaster that mostly went down but managed to also get really close to feeling like the shuttle loop in Rollercoaster Tycoon set so that it just launched the riders off the end of the track.

In order to try and capture it, I present to you A Series of Dramatic Vignettes. Getting all Masterpiece Theater up in here.

Monday: In Which Permissions are Needed to Have Self-Worth

INTERIOR, MORNING. We see a weight set, with the bar still set up and loaded with plates from the most recent workout a week ago.

Me: I rested my back for a week, time to get back to working out.

Me: *starts taking plates off the bar from last time*

Back: *immediately re-pulls*

Me: God dammit.

Me: *goes through an abbreviated workout anyway because fuck this shit.

INTERIOR, LATER THAT MORNING. The character is at a desk, how exciting.

Phone: *rings*

Me: Hello?

Interior monologue: It’s been over a week, I’m not hopeful about this.

Pharmatech HR: Hey, thanks for your patience with all this. We decided not to move forward due to a couple skill gaps, even through you were a really good fit culture wise. Sorry.

Me: Fair enough, I suppose. Thanks for letting me know.

Interior monologue: Well now if I get the other job I don’t have to choose? But still: fuck. Thought I had this one, and given one of the interviews at least one of the interviewers did, too.

LATER THAT DAY

Me: *posts online about it*

Online bud: That doesn’t seem fair at all, given it’s way harder to fix a culture gap than a skill gap.

Me: You’re right, this is bullshit! Thank you, friend.

Tuesday: A Most Familiar Imposter

INTERIOR. A DESK. DESKS ARE BORING, BUT OH WELL.

Me: Damn, I gotta get this new episode’s editing done.

[Time passes as we see the shadows shift and the character plugs away at the project]

Me: Done! I’ll even push through and get it uploaded and submitted.

Me: *looks at clock, it reads 2:30 PM*

Me: What the hell? I got this done with hours to spare before our recording session? What the fuck? Who am I, and what did I do with the real me?

Narrator, stoned: Like, what *is* reality, though?

Wednesday: It’s Called Foreshadowing

Me: Hey aren’t I supposed to hear back from [webstuff company] today? Oh I’m excited, I really want that job and I think I had a good final round interview. Even if I wasn’t playing the 100% positive cheerful person you’re supposed to, I had some good conversations with the guy and there was a lot of engagement there.

Phone: *doesn’t ring*

Email: *nothing*

Me: Maybe it’s taking an extra day or something. Hiring processes are messy after all.

BEAT

Me: *frets slightly*

Thursday: On the Flaws Human Form

INTERIOR. A doctor’s office. An annual physical is being conducted.

Doctor: You sound healthy. Also at least a couple of your current complaints are just the indignities of age starting to show up.

Me: God dammit. I refuse to age! Can I train out of having any downsides to aging?

Narrator: They could not. Because no one can.

Friday: Friends Help

MORNING, INTERIOR The desk makes a reappearance.

Me: *emails [webstuff company] asking if there are any updates, but no rush*

Webstuff Company: There is an update! We went with someone else.

Me: I am surprisingly extremely devastated by this, rather than the usual bummed. Shit fuck ass damn fuck I really wanted that one. It sounded about as amazing as an IT job could get for me. I was excited about it. It seemed like a near-perfect fit.

Me: …y’know, I thought I had one or both of those jobs on lock. But here we are!

Me: Dammit.

BEAT

Me: And I’m back to square one. *Again.*

Me: *despairs* *is pretty useless the rest of the day*

THAT EVENING

MONTAGE. We go from a sidewalk, to inside a fancy specialty food store downtown, to an art studio exhibition, to the back of a crowded bar’s covered patio.

Me: Friend I Haven’t Seen in Months, it’s so great to see you again!

FIHSIM: It’s great to see you, too!

FREEZE FRAME as the two jump in the air and high five. Cheerful music plays. Don’t cheap out on the licensing.

Saturday: The Empty Battery Is Probably a Metaphor

EXTERIOR, NIGHT. An orange subcompact is parked on the street.

Me: That was a good time meeting some friends-of-friends and playing Red Flags. Time to go home, for it is late.

Me: *gets into car, sees that the headlights were left on, on their low setting that’s mostly there so other people can see you better and you don’t actually need the full headlight beams to see the road*

Me: Fuck. Please turn over.

Car: *Makes sad electric noises when the key is turned. Does not, in fact, turn over*

Me: *calls friend they were just hanging out with who probably isn’t at their car yet* Hey, do you have jumper cables?

Friend: No, sorry. But wait! Friend-of-friend does!

FRIEND, OTHER FRIEND, and the FRIEND OF FRIEND all show up

Friend of Friend: Here you go! I actually know what I’m doing and remember all the steps and will explain to you as I go so we do this right. Also you probably know this all already.

Me: I deeply distrust my brain and have never memorized the car jump process. Plus, as someone who does technical writing and learning deeply I always am down to go through the steps of something again.

Friend of Friend: *successfully jumps car*

Me: Oh thank fuck, it lives. Thank you, FoF!

FoF: *is helpful and awesome* *and attractive, to be totally honest >.>;;;* No problem!

Me: *drives home in terror of stalling out and the car not being recharged enough to turn over* *makes it home fine*

Me: Should I text my friends to let them know I made it back okay? Eh, they didn’t ask for it and it feels a little presumptuous, plus I’m tired as fuck.

We cut to see that THE PHONE has gone back into its nightly DO NOT DISTURB mode after that was paused for half an hour when calling about jumper cables. An OMINOUS MUSICAL STING plays.

Sunday: In Which Do Not Disturb Performs Too Well

INTERIOR, MORNING. The character is picking up their phone for the first time that day. A NEW MESSAGE is waiting for them.

Friend from last night: Hey, let us know once you get home okay.

Friend from last night: [message two hours later] Did you get back okay?

Me: Ah god fucking dammit, I didn’t meant to cause you to worry, friend!

Me: *texts back that all is well, and also apologizes for leaving them hanging*

Fin