Gimme Shell-ter

This is Crab Daddy, Anthony’s hermit crab. We picked him up a few months ago after Anthony learned that one of his classmates had one and told him how cool they were.

Well, what you see here is about all Crab Daddy does. That, and eat grapes and popcorn (the butter-flavored variety being his favorite). It’s a pretty easy life being a hermit crab: eat, sleep, and if you really feel adventurous, stick your head out of your shell and take a look around.

He does nothing and leaves nothing in his little crab hut undone. He has no job, no credit cards, no need to know what the gas prices will be from one day to the next.

There are some days when I wonder how in the Hell he can exist in not only that shell of his, but within the four glass walls of the aquarium that surround him. But then there are some days when switching lives with him wouldn’t seem like that bad of an idea.

You see, as I get older, I’m beginning to realize that the few friends I have are really about all I need and that keeping to myself (in my own virtual shell) is really what makes me happy most of the time. I’ve gotten into the habit of eating lunch in my car while at work and enjoying the peace and quiet. It gives me time to just be alone and not be bothered. Unless, of course, you’re that jackass who started playing that thumpy Wet Seal music yesterday that shook my windows as I tried to nap. No problem – I just drove up to the next level of the structure.

Being able to hide inside that shell of mine would be a perfect way to avoid what I seemed to know what was coming all along.

And today would have been a perfect day to play Freaky Friday with Crab Daddy.

Life as a temporary employee means you always have to be job searching because you never know when your time will be up. It could be today, tomorrow, months from now. It’s pretty scary.

That said, I accepted my current position knowing full well that it was a temporary job that, honestly, was supposed to end in December or January. So I guess I should consider myself lucky that I lasted this long.

Back to today. Work has dried up and I knew right away something was cooking when I saw my own supervisors and their boss in many, many closed-door meetings. I’m pretty astute when it comes to stuff like that and right away in the back of my mind, I started to get a little concerned.

Eventually, I came to learn that my instinct was right: one of the proofreaders was called into the supervisor’s office and, after about 20 minutes, left the office with a glum look – and her walking papers, effective next week.

Fuckity-fuck fuck.

FUCK.

Here we go again and even though I knew to expect it someday, it never comes easy. I could sit here and cogitate about some formula that ultimately determined her fate but the reality of it is that anybody could be the next in line to get the ax.

If there is a good thing about this, should I get my pink slip in the near future, I’m no longer driving 40+ miles round-trip to work. Given the cost of gas these days ($4.09/gal.), driving out there isn’t very economical considering my rate of pay.

That’s about the only good thing. And the more I think about it, the more I really, really admire that stupid little crab and his stupid little shell.