After training the skill of strength, I took a shower which tormented the toilet goblin. Blub, blub, bloop! The toilet kept bubbling up while Spot lay in front of the bathroom door waiting for something to happen. When I finished my shower I flushed the toilet and watched it back up. Fortunately it didn't overflow but even if it did I had dammed the door and it would've been (relatively) clean water. Spot was gloating over the fact that she was right about something being wrong with the plumbing.
Wednesday morning I got up and went to flush the toilet. Everything went down much to my relief. Spot was nowhere to be found, I think she was resting up after the epic battle between her and the toilet goblin. Brave Spot, she ensured that her houseape would have a working toilet.
He was looking to get a buzz.
This news is happy but annoying for me. The girl at my job who calls everyone "Best Friend" has another job lined up and will be giving notice this Friday. I'm annoyed because it means I'll be stuck pulling everyone's weight.
Plus it makes me reflect upon my situation. See I am unhappy with my job but I'm too attached to the income and paying off my car to quit. I am supporting Spot, she's the Charon to my Pluto with raddidge as the barycenter. Have I mentioned that my car insurance has gone up? Yep, it pinches a bit but I'll survive and here's hoping that it'll eventually drop back to normal in a reasonable amount of time. "Best Friend" has been at Usury, Inc. a whole year more than I have been there. Of course she's always gotten into trouble and she's sick and tired of the bullshit from our department manager Sourpuss and Sourpuss's sister who happens to be the general manager.
I'm sick and tired of doing the same damned thing day in and day out without any real challenge or change. Simply being a gerbil who runs on the same wheel every single day. I need to see if "Best Friend" will let me use her as a professional reference on my resume.
One thing that I need to keep in mind is that I'm leaving the job to better myself. For my own sanity. For my happiness. Sure it's nice to think about giving notice and watching the blood drain from management's faces as they lose their star player. To experience schadenfreude when the other processors realize that I won't be around to pick up their slack when upper management is demanding more, more, more and they can only do so much. Their stone will no longer bleed for them. The exciting thrill of being called upstairs and being offered crazy shit to stay yet turning them down and thanking them for their generosity and all the experience which came with the job.
When I quit, I'm doing it for me.
Once he's gone, Buddhist monks will be combing the countryside hoping to find the new vessel for his enlightened soul who will be adopted and indoctrinated at a monastery to lead and advise all Buddhists. Now the PRC can effectively say if someone wants a 15th Dalai Lama then the PRC has to choose that soul. Of course the 15th Dalai Lama will be amenable to the PRC.
Even more interestingly this could lead to an Asian version of the Avignon Papacy. A Communist holy man vs. a holy man chosen by self-declared true Buddhists in exile. Will they accept that souls will be split? Which one would be the outright fraud? Or will this serve to drive home the point that all religion is pointless?
Yet there is something to underscore the point about the futility of religion. How come there hasn't been an African Dalai Lama? The Earth is a big place with billions of people yet Tibetan Buddhists have yet to find a non-Asian to accept as their spiritual leader. I do not believe that there is a single instance in Asian history where an Asian-born monk, before continued cultural exchange with the West, declared that he was the reincarnated soul of someone with red hair, fair skin and blue eyes.
Even if there is such a mechanic as the transmigration of the soul, why is the Dalai Lama's soul choosing to enter only Asian bodies? I'd be truly shocked if upon the passing of old Tenzin some iterant Buddhist monks declared a newborn Somali girl as the 15th Dalai Lama. Heck it might even fan my dying embers of faith for a few minutes. Of course, true believer, I would not be roused into an inferno of religious zealotry.
Heck there's a chance that there may be a Hispanic or African pope in the next two centuries. For all its mistakes and failures at least the Catholic church elects their spiritual leader.
Plus the whole theater of rediscovering the reincarnated soul of the previous Dalai Lama is pretty unnecessary. Find a kid who is young enough, indoctrinate them and they will be the Dalai Lama.
Of course you don't because nobody reads the purply text.
Well once again I was at this science fiction convention. The lobby opened into a huge atrium full of people. Folks were busy talking with each other creating a din. I kept seeing a red haired guy that looked a lot like L. Ron Hubbard. Someone was pushing him around in a wheelchair. The other con-goers were oblivious to his presence even as he rolled those big wheels over their toes.
After a while he waved me over with a serious face. Mr. Hubbard looked more lika a rumpled bag of laundry than a human being. He talked at length making an offer that would expected of Satan. Heck it might've put Satan to shame. Of course I refused the potential for instantaneously realizing my dreams of being a legitimate author who writes books even when weight loss was the icing on the delicious cake.
