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Paying Nothing

There was a very long discussion on a website I read about whether or not “Pay what you want” for music included “nothing.” It was an interesting back and forth, but there was this one little gem that popped out in the discussion.

God I hate modern consumers like you. “I’m going to take this apple, vendor. IF I like it, and I have some extra money, and I don’t have anything else I want to spend it on, and I’m feeling generous, I might pay you some amount that may or may not meet or exceed your asking price. But only if I feel like you’re making exactly what it cost to produce that apple, and not a cent more, because then you’re a greedy 1% asshole.”

It’s more like “You’re a convenient apple cart and I like you so I’ll buy an apple for $1 from you on the way to work even though apples are theoretically freely available from trees.”

The corollary being “And boy I’m glad you’re not a dick who goes around through the countryside chopping down and burning every wild apple tree you see to ‘protect your livelihood’ and ordering every kid you see picking free apples shot.”

One more thing

Today I talked to a mortgage broker, to see what kind of money I qualify for. I haven’t heard back yet, but I’m certainly more interested in renting a home from the bank than from an landlord. Somehow, and I’m not really sure how, I have phenomenal credit. I get very funny reactions when people check my credit score. Always positive.

An open workspace is necessary since Nishi will be running Barefoot Upholstery out of wherever we end up. The idea of living out of the bus, inside a warehouse somewhere always floats through my mind when I think about open work space. I think it would be quite a lot of fun, and new ways to use that space would emerge to fill the physical void.

Of course that’s not exactly legal, which is more of a concern if we were renting such a place. In looking around at potential options, I found a really cool solution. It is basically a small business breeding ground. There are multiple units to a building, in the same vein as a storage condo. However, these include an apartment above the open work space. It’s totally ideal, except that it’s in Washington state, and there doesn’t seem to be anything like it on this coast.

I’ve dreamt of a tiny house barn. It is essentially a barn, with the loft area turned into a tiny house, so that there is a large indoor work space below the living area. I like that I’m not the only one thinking about such a space.

Last Man Standing

I’m working on restraining myself from starting sentences with “So,…”

I learned yesterday that the woman who shadowed me shortly after I started working with CTB was fired. I learned today that the guy who started working a little before I showed up quit both school and work this week, to join the occupy movement full time. That leaves just me and my boss as far as Connecticut recruiters. I’m not sure if they’re planning on hiring anyone to replace them or not, but I’m fine either way. I liked working with both of them, but this also gives me a larger area to cover, and more restaurants to potentially sign up. Hurray money!

I also got to file a formal complaint with the Meriden police department today. A lock had been cut off one of our oil containers, and some oil was taken. We’re starting to file reports, in order to build up a record of theft.

Designer

Apparently I’m a web designer now. I guess it’s not really a new thing, it’s all over my resume – designed and built the website, designed and built the website, etc. It’s something I always seem to end up doing, in part because I’m asked, in part because I volunteer, but mostly because web designers charge so damn much. I’m not a good web designer, as proud as I am of my website I can’t claim that. Regardless, it seems like I’m doing it more and more. I made the website for Nishi’s business, which she has started up again, and I made a redesign for Connecticut BioFuels, though it’s unclear if/when it will be implemented. Now I’m involved in a start-up of a friend of mine, and it looks like I’m their man on the web. I’m not complaining, I just find it funny that I keep drifting towards something I consciously avoided.

I have no desire to be a web designer and nothing else. It isn’t a full time job that would work for me. I don’t think I have a good aesthetic eye, for one, and I’ve never been especially handy with graphic design. I love the initial part of designing a website, planning and troubleshooting. The fine-tuning bugs me a bit more, often because it consists of a thousand tiny changes that I largely disagree with. I think to really make a good website you need to be both involved in the project and tweak it as it is used. Being a professional web designer precludes all of that. But I’m not a web designer, and shouldn’t be looked at as an authority about what makes a good website. In that way I’m thankful for the middle road I’ve paved.

Dust Devil

When I was younger, I played little league baseball. On one particularly windy game, a dust devil formed on the first base line. Play paused while the kids gawked at the tiny tornado that joined our game. I kept moving towards first base, and enveloped the first-baseman who was unsure what to do. It kept moving towards second base, avoiding the grassy outfield. Now it was clear that play wouldn’t continue until the distraction was gone, and players stepped back to let it pass. It rounded second, and made its way towards third. We started to cheer the dust devil, on the verge of stealing third. Sadly, it dissipated before reaching third, tagged out by some strong breeze. Whenever I see a dust devil I remember that day, and that story.

Work

There were many things I could do for two or three days and earn enough money to live on for the rest of the month. By temperament I’m a vagabond and a tramp. I don’t want money badly enough to work for it. In my opinion it’s a shame that there is so much work in the world. One of the saddest things is that the only thing that a man can do for eight hours a day, day after day, is work. You can’t eat eight hours a day nor drink for eight hours a day nor make love for eight hours — all you can do for eight hours is work. Which is the reason why man makes himself and everybody else so miserable and unhappy. –William Faulkner

Nishi has been going into work very early all week, arriving at the shop by 0600. I’ve started working full weeks too, and Nishi commented today that all we do anymore is work. Lately, when people ask me what’s up, I just reply with ‘work.’ I’m beginning to remember why I tried so hard to avoid this.

Pirates

There is a former employee of my company who goes to restaurants pretending to represent us, promises outrageous prices for oil, and takes waste oil without paying. He’s a sophisticated veggie pirate, and he’s causing all sorts of problems for Connecticut rendering companies. It is incredibly awkward trying to speak with restauranteurs who have dealt with him, since I am claiming to represent the same company he claimed to represent. It’s not fun telling them that they won’t get paid, and one interaction stands out.

From the get go, dealing with Chinese restaurants is a challenge. There is a language barrier, which breeds trust issues. Many Chinese restaurants seem extremely worried that I’m trying to somehow rip them off. Our company takes every step to try and extend a bridge to these small business owners, and employs a Mandarin speaker, as well as printing “We speak Chinese” in Chinese on our brochures and business cards. It helps a little.

I visited a Chinese restaurant that was hit by said veggie pirate, tasked with explaining the situation. After briefly explaining that he didn’t work for us, I showed them the number to call and confirm what I had told them, which was printed on the business card he left them. Okay, maybe he’s not that sophisticated. He just crossed out the 1-800 number and circled his cell number several times. Still, he easily causes problems, and the owner repeated what I had said several times, not wanting to believe it. “I don’t understand,” she eventually said. “Everyone has been so nice to us since we came here.”

Living outside

Living in the garage, I’m a short walk to plumbing, food, and cable. I like having that forced interaction with the outside world. Whatever the weather conditions outside, I have to walk through it to eat and poop. This was probably what I liked best about living in the bus. Lack of utilities aside, it has windows running down the length of every wall. It makes it impossible to disassociate from your environment. I am seriously considering compartmentalizing certain parts of my dream house into different buildings, just to preserve that connection.

There Will Be Blood

The market for waste vegetable oil is presently booming. There is a lot of money to be made, and that money is responsible for my present employment. The biodiesel market is in something of a bubble, since a competitively priced, widely available alternative exists and there exists little incentive for people to use biodiesel if it costs more than petroleum diesel. The point will be reached where waste oil suppliers are being paid the highest possible price, and incentives to switch will disappear.

But in the time being, it’s mayhem. Waste oil processing companies can get away with crazy things, and oil pirates are running around at the same time throwing a wrench in the works. We have had rival companies place locks on our containers, leave their containers in place after a client switches companies, and an ex employee of my company is running around pretending to still represent them, promising to pay exorbitant amounts in order to get oil. It is quite ridiculous. I’m not sure what to make of it.

Humbled

The job search has been eye opening. I went into it with unrealistic expectations, and was very surprised by what I found, in terms of both salary and availability. I sent out far more resumes than I can count, and was repeatedly turned down from jobs that I knew I could do well. I’m not sure why in the face of everything I had heard and seen in recent years I expected anything else, but I did. While working with the Census, I remember one of the higher-ups mentioning in a meeting the high amount of highly skilled people who were filling those positions, he said, “For example, there are three PhD’s in this room.” So while I could do those jobs well, it’s very likely someone else could do them better.

The other thing that surprised me was the dismissiveness of many companies. I guess when you’re receiving hundreds of resumes for every position, you can’t really go on anything other than a first impression. And I guess my first impression wasn’t the right one. I used a resume that had without fail guaranteed me call-backs only six months ago, and never heard back about the majority of positions I applied for. I even made a new, bulleted resume that cut out all of the fun fluff (whole sentences) that had made up my first resume. It didn’t portray a version of me that I liked, but I was trying my hardest to sell out and failing, so I really had to go all in.

And of all the jobs I could have gotten, I got one that I actually have experience doing. And I had sent them the good resume, which meant that they actually liked me, a strong indication that it would be a good fit. So I’m now employed by Connecticut BioFuels, where I am tasked with going to restaurants, and convincing them to sell their waste oil to my biodiesel-producing employers. It pays well, gives me a good deal of independence, and I don’t feel like I’ve sold my soul. I can’t wait.