tenuous
The interview was all paperwork and formalities and get-back-to-you-Monday; the dude who spoke to me is going to go speak to some other guy and see if they actually want me or not. The catch is, I am pretty sure that the dude who spoke to me has no idea how the tax industry actually works and I think he missed asking most of the relevant questions. I hope this doesn't make me look bad.
Also, I got grabby spam from two other recruiters today, all because I told someone somewhere I still have an active ptin? What the hell. (They're both out of town, so I'm not sure I even want to try). Related; the job I am apparently being put up for wants five years experience at doing this shit; I have three, and as it's seasonal work, it feels like much less than that. But. It is amazingly weird to think that I even have work experience worth mentioning, let alone worth putting forward for a five-year experience requirement. I almost feel like a real person now. Seriously - between the London recession, immigration, the Atlanta recession, and everything that ever happened in Lancs ever, I've rarely felt more than tenuously attached to the pulse of the world, certainly not of value (London spat me out); I've basically spent the last year desperately hoping I could fix that by moving up here, and failing at doing it.
I'm not sure if 'wait until monday' is the right thing to do right now. It probably is, as even if this gig doesn't pan out the agency think they can find one that does, and this January certainly looks to have a high level of appreciation for my ass. And Plan B ('go crawling back to previous steady employer') is still solid.
Also, I got grabby spam from two other recruiters today, all because I told someone somewhere I still have an active ptin? What the hell. (They're both out of town, so I'm not sure I even want to try). Related; the job I am apparently being put up for wants five years experience at doing this shit; I have three, and as it's seasonal work, it feels like much less than that. But. It is amazingly weird to think that I even have work experience worth mentioning, let alone worth putting forward for a five-year experience requirement. I almost feel like a real person now. Seriously - between the London recession, immigration, the Atlanta recession, and everything that ever happened in Lancs ever, I've rarely felt more than tenuously attached to the pulse of the world, certainly not of value (London spat me out); I've basically spent the last year desperately hoping I could fix that by moving up here, and failing at doing it.
I'm not sure if 'wait until monday' is the right thing to do right now. It probably is, as even if this gig doesn't pan out the agency think they can find one that does, and this January certainly looks to have a high level of appreciation for my ass. And Plan B ('go crawling back to previous steady employer') is still solid.

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Or maybe it's office politics. "Boss: we need a person, I've found a person, now just sign here."
Neither seem to be good indications of the working environment. But I'm fully aware that most of us don't have a choice. So I hope it works out.
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I hate the phone, too (I have a hard time concentrating on spoken words without something to look at; I am basically terrible at audio books). I dream of a world in which no one ever expects us to communicate that way.
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Audio books have got me through some long dental appointments/nightshifts, but I often have to put them back by a minute or two because I lost focus. :/ Not listened to any in over a year.
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I was genuinely proud of myself for listening to a chunk of an audio book on my roadtrip without zoning out more than a few times, so I guess having the road to visually focus on helped. (When I take calls at work, especially complicated calls from people with complicated needs, I find a spot on my desk to focus on while I'm not writing notes. The intensity of my stare is probably funny to anyone who walks by.)
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If I have to call someone for work purposes, I always write a bullet-point script for myself first. My last boss kinda mocked me for that once. Extroverts don't understand :/
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The script is a good idea! I tend to get frustrated because I have no trouble being outgoing in face-to-face conversations, but everything gets awkward when the face becomes a phone. I have left so many legendarily terrible voicemails. So many.
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oh god, voicemail, if I think I possibly can I just hang up and call back later. :/
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However when quiet isn't an option, I find it easier to focus on the "familiar noise" of music than the unpredictable noise of building work, television shows, loud conversations or rows. Familiarity is the key: I have to no the words by heart. Then I zone out and miss entire songs, or suddenly find myself singing a hook ("...Is is ever gonna be enough? Is it ever gonna be enough?....") I also sometimes exploit the way music affects my mood. (Want to write an exciting bit? Listen to upbeat music!) It can help me relax, too, which can be more important than the distraction.
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Familiarity tends to be the key for me too, when writing; but most often I just go with silence, or maybe set the mood with something and then turn it off so I can concentrate. I am a finicky prose kinda person so usually I need a lot of free headspace (not always; I still remember the night I first figured out the flow, when I was 17, and it was in a noisy kitchen, probably with the TV on, chilling with my notebook in some dead time while cooking. Magic happens sometimes.)
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Anyway, radio was found to need less headspace than direct conversation because you can stop listening. And talking to a passenger was less distracting than having a phone conversation, because the passenger could see when to shut up. It all seemed pretty logical, if you thought about it.
And FWIW non-writers seem to loath headspace. You get labelled antisocial or autistic because you want quiet. Inevitably, if you're rich enough, you end up in the shed at the bottom of the garden. I'm not rich enough.
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