2002-11-26 12:53:35 ET|
General weirdness n' stuff...
Plain, regular ol' day, nuthin much going on. I spent most of the day fixing my boss's universal remote control from his home cinema. I think he thinks I'm, like, his personal assistant. He thinks that while I'm there he can pretty much ask anything from me.
I mean, I just thought about it, that, like, in the army, I had a designated job to do, but also, I'm a soldier, therfore I have commanders and they can tell me to do pretty much anything.
But this is civilian life.
I'm pretty DAMN certain I'm not supposed to be doing his dishes.
Well, it wasn't exactly like that. I got there in the morning, and I was about to offer to make us coffee, but then he offered, so I went with him to the kitchen, and opened the electric-pot-thingie to fill it up with water, but then there were these... lemons. Yes. Lemons and water were left there overnight to clean the debris that clings to the heating rods. So, he says like, oh, right, forgot about that, well, pour it out and toss those lemons out, so I do it. Then he takes it to his hands, and says something like "well, let's see if this did anything" and he sticks his finer and lots of yucky-clay-like shit comes out. So then he points to a paper towel, and like says to me "could you scrub that out a bit? Great." and leaves the kitchen to talk on the phone.
I was left there standing, shocked, but, wanting coffee, too.
On the one hand, fuck it, he's paying for my time, I don't mind fixing his receiver.
On the other hand, I gotta draw the line somewhere, and for fucks sake, I'm not his slave.
I think I don't like the vague definition of my job. I wanna keep it focused. Who knows? Tomorrow he might ask me to go do his groceries or something. Really annoying...
And, yet, I don't REALLY mind. It's the principle that bothers me, not the practicality of it. I mean, he is paying me, and so long as he doesn't want me to give him head, I don't really give a rats ass what I do round his place.
:: Listening to: Wumpscut - Christfuck ::