Typing this post will take something away from me. It’s become a fun past-time for me at work to write things in my head, there’s a comfortable impermanence in it, knowing what I’ve written in my head I’ll soon forget, replaced by some other ideation. This is my second job, but I consider it to be my first ‘actual’ job - one with an actual pay and responsibility, albeit the onus is pretty insignificant but it’s responsibility all the same.
I work at DHL as a General Operative for ISM (colloquially known as “I suck men” by the DHL staff), the title is fairly misleading since but I don’t do general things and I operate very little. My job is to basically move pallets with a picking truck & sort cages full of cardboard and plastic into their respective conveyor-belt thingies - plastic in the plastic machine and cardboard in the cardboard machine. I like to think of myself as a very in-efficient biological case-switch statement, although going to that level of reductionism is verging on ridiculousness. What’s expected of me is nothing difficult at all, it’s just pretty boring and menial as you can imagine. I work night shifts, 10PM-6AM, simply because the pay is better, £8.50 per hour (as opposed to days at £7.92 ph). This job was the best paid job I could find within a limited amount of time and with very little prerequisites demanded.
One of the incentives behind getting employed was that it’d be something to occupy my mind, but as it turns out it’s the complete opposite. You see, doing an incredibly repetitive task for 8 hours a day, 5 days a week, one becomes masterfully adept at subconsciously performing the motions of said task. Everything becomes secondary and instead you’re forced to mull over pointless shit like the etymology of words like ‘hot-dog’, approximating roots via Newtonian method or thinking about that ‘pee is stored in the balls’ meme. I’ve been working at DHL for about 6 weeks now so I’m beginning to run out of words and numbers - which might be a problem if I were to work there any longer, luckily I get to quit in 5 weeks (4 assuming I take the last week off with all my holiday days I’ll have built up by then).
So far I’ve earned about £2,000, it’s a nice sum of money but I don’t really care about it though, there isn’t much pleasure to be gained from watching a number in my bank account rise over time at a fairly constant rate. Money to me feels like a wildly inaccurate metric for the value of time, to ISM, a minute of my life is worth £0.14, every time I buy something I’ll calculate how many minutes of my life have been lost, for a can of sips - 8 minutes and 36 seconds.
I managed to get into crypto and some various mining (as in ores/petroleum) stock in 2016 which paid off very well early this year, I’ve liquidated most of my crypto in January and haven’t touched it since, the current bear market is total garbage but I’ve still got a fair bit of BHP and Vale, I’ll probably pull those out by the end of year though. I didn’t get into trading to earn money, it just seemed a pretty interesting area - so I took some time to study it and practice - after a while it becomes somewhat exciting, but only after investing a sizeable amount of capital since the stakes are higher, living each day knowing my entire portfolio could plummet and dissolve within a matter of hours kept me occupied for a large portion of my day, at least in regards with crypto. Mining is fairly stable and predictable though.
I’ve never told anyone about this - at the start it was extremely difficult to hide it since I was proud of home much I’d accumulated, I’m able to ignore that impulse now, with a job it’s fairly easy to cover up when I need to purchase something which is the main reason I got a job in the first place. I wanted to get a new laptop for uni in september - of course I’m able to just go out and drop £3k on a MBP without making a modest dent in my savings but then the question arises: “Where did you get that kind of money?”. I don’t like lying - my psychologist said a few years ago that I have a ‘pathological moral obligation to the truth’, which I suppose is true, I respect people enough to tell them what I think, in hopes they’d do the same for me. Anyway, earning the money acts as a good enough loophole to the lying issue and as a bonus, makes my parents happy since they think I’m being independent or something. Win-win.
Mostly I’m just worried about how people would react if I told them about my investing exploits, I don’t want people to be my friends just because they think I’ll buy them things, I despise disingenuous relationships above all else. I suppose that has something to do with my ‘moral obligation to the truth’, from my experience almost everyone says one thing and means the other when talking about they feel about each other, to the point where I find pretty much all conversation with people so utterly tiresome that the only enjoyment I get from interacting with them is forcing them into a position where they are brutally honest about their feelings - often time the only way to achieve this is to make them angry. Granted, it’s pretty effective at destroying relationships with people, not that that’s anything to gloat about.
Rather than love, than money, than faith, than fame, than fairness, give me truth.
The people at my job aren’t too bad either, initially I hated everyone and considered starting this post with: “I hate everyone at my job”, after a few weeks that changed into: “I hate this one person at my job”, then recently that’s just changed into “I hate my job”, now I kind of enjoy it. The routine has become something I look forward too and hitting the goals at the end of the day is vaguely satisfying. Mostly I just enjoy interacting with the people I work with, they’re different from most. There’s no air of superiority since were all the lowest class donkeys of the company. Occasionally they’ll make fun of me for ‘speaking posh’ or calling me a smart ass because I’m going to uni but it’s all in good fun. Sometimes I’ll even make a few jokes on their expense, mainly on how they shift cardboard so fucking slowly and that the shift will be over by the time they finish whatever they’re doing.
PPE looks gay as fuck also.
I’ve been thinking about some new developments for this site also, one of which is a new domain, maybe ttxi.li, I’m a bit hesistant though since I know it’ll cause a lot of dead links to pop up all around the internet, the obvious solution is to create CNAME to point to the new address, but that means keeping up the .gq domain also, ehhhh. I might start hosting the ftp branch of this site over dat protocol too, a URL like dat://ftp.ttxi.li/=ABC.jpg looks pretty fuggen nice & the idea of decentralised hosting for site assets is pretty appealing.
Results day is in 6 days, I’m not really confident so I call it about a 30% chance of getting what I need. I’d like AB in maths/physics, worst case scenario is BC/D though. I’m at work on both my birthday (15th) and results day which kinda sucks, those days are going to draaaag. All the faux-postivism in this has unfortunately dissipated, even down to the little romance thing I was gleeful about - I ended up putting my exams before him and things tapered off. He did send me an e-mail but I took about a month to get around to replying to it in the most emotionally-walled-off manner possible for reasons unexplainable, my fault I guess.Return?