And some other random stuff.

Dec 30, 2006

Forseeing many days of slogging at the contract (if they ever get things going, that is), I determined that I wanted a portable MP3 player. I couldn't quite see paying $300 for an iPod, since I don't even own a cellphone (translation: I probably wouldn't use most of the features available in a video iPod, so why pay that extra money for extra functionality and a brand name?) I found a black/blue 4GB Zen V, by Creative Labs, on sale for $150. This will give me quite a good deal of utility, and while it would give Alton Brown fits because it only does one thing (plays audio files - no video capabilities and no FM radio) I'm quite pleased. I just have to get past the learning curve. Well...that, and giving the battery its initial charge. It's plugged into a USB port, sitting, pulsing to itself. The damn thing's so small...if I'm not careful, it will become a cat toy in short order.

I've got Pirates of the Carribean on in the background while the player's charging up. (It's a cute movie, though I don't have the appreciative enthusiasm for it that others do.) I'm reading through the user manual, figuring out how to use this thing: adding music, creating playlists, et cetera. At least this, tiny though it may be, came with not only an easily attachable carrying/hanging strap (which is long enough for me to hang this thing around my neck like a pendant), but the package also included a felt-lined carry sack. (Why is it that neither of my digital cameras came with such a useful thing, hmm??)

I'm sitting down, sipping a mug of Daboga's Xocolatl (75% cacao with ground dried chiles), looking through the user guide and the accessories. I've already picked out some things that might — just might — be incredibly useful to have. I think this proves, conclusively, that I am pathetic. I only just now acquired an MP3 player, because I didn't really need one before. Now, suddenly, I need not only the player, but the accessories to go with it.

I about drove myself insane yesterday, getting more and more wound up over the recruitment agency's long list of incompetencies. I was looking at my biweekly paycheck, mentally comparing it to my paycheck from my last gig, and wondering how I'd managed to get myself into such a financial bind. I had originally thought that I would be effectively getting about 33% more per hour. So why was it that my paycheck from New Job, which covered two weeks, wasn't much more than one paycheck from Old Job? If one week at Old Job got me a paycheck of X dollars, a paycheck for two weeks at new job should be more than 1/3(X) + X. What was I miscalculating?

Ummmm...maybe because one paycheck from Old Job also covers two weeks, not one? (Oh. Yeah. Heh.) In my haste to find more reasons to be torqued off at Recruitment Agency, I apparently began inventing reasons for my pissoffedness.

And for those of you who were wondering about Monkey's final reaction in this morning's post, here's the wrap-up:

Monkey: So, I'm telling you, it moved...

Fog: Should we wake him up for this?

Monkey: Nah, he's been claiming things all day. He's tired.

Related entry: Sh1t, sh1t, sh1t, sh1t
Keywords: | technology | music | Holidailies | chocolate | cats |
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