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Joshua Alan Doetsch

~ Author & Scrivnomancer

Joshua Alan Doetsch

Tag Archives: 7-11

Oneiromantic Infidelity

03 Monday Dec 2007

Posted by scrivnomancer in Uncategorized

≈ 4 Comments

Tags

7-11, book of dead things, cafe aeon, halloween, john, medieval times

Sleep is the wife that I neglect for things like work and other pursuits.  She isn’t pleased.  She says we never spend any quality time together anymore.  Even when I do manage to get her in my embrace, it’s always fitful, never very deep, and rarely lasts long.  She always stalks off, leaving me alone, red eyed and clutching a pillow.  She’s threatening to divorce me for good . . .

Let’s see…it’s been awhile—what’s gone on in the last month:

Flattery Will Get You Nowhere

On Wednesday, I had to pull yet another 33 hour 3rd-shift/day-job/3rd-shift day.  During the day I subbed for a friend, teaching an after-school magic class.  I was told the kids were “wild”…but the children turned out great.  They were wild because they were very young (the youngest I’ve taught), but they were just very enthusiastic.  Many were actually trying to be helpful.  I even found two of the little girls waiting outside the room when I left—they were worried I might get lost.  It was the most fun and easy $100 for an hour of work.

That night, I sat on the sofa, somewhere between sleep and wakefulness, watching Boston Legal with my parents to pass the very short hour before I had to go to 7-11 for the night shift.  I’d been awake for well over 20 hours.  I wasn’t happy.

My mom got up to get a drink.  “You have a cute ass,” my Dad said.

“I appreciate it,” I said, groggy and gloomily, “But, man….that’s just not cheering me up.”

Bubbles and Bullets

The weekend before Halloween I got to visit my goddaughter, Reese 🙂  Her grandfather took me and her daddy out shooting his handguns.  I don’t have much experience with guns.  But, as it turns out, I’m a pretty good shot and did the best that day.  Afterwards I got to play in the bubbles with Reese and her mother gave me the coolest Halloween card ever.

I had to work Halloween night 😦

The weekend after Halloween, I did manage to go to a Halloween party at Jerry and Robb’s apartment.  I went as the great pumpkin.  My mask never came in the mail…so I had to get creative with make-up.  I didn’t manage to get any pictures…other than these webcam shots (the makeup was a bit smeared by then and I didn’t have the costume on):


Of Music and Memories

A friend and neighbor, John, died just over a week ago, suddenly and unexpectedly of some sort of heart problem.  He was only 53.  I got the call about it just before going to bed, after the 3rd shift.  My family and I rushed over to his house for any emotional support we could offer his wife, Deb.  The police had to shoo us out right away, though, as the coroner hadn’t even been there by the time we arrived.

His wake was a few days later.  My little sister, Danielle had never seen a dead person before and I think it weirded her out a bit.  A lot of people came out.  John touched a lot of lives.  He’d told me stories about his wild days working at a ranch and entertaining.  He always wanted to sit down with me and put those stories to pen and paper.  Meeting him later in life, these exploits were just stories for me…until I saw some of those character manifested at his wake.  For music, they just plugged in John’s iPod.  I think this was a good move.  It was his music.  I was impressed how an iPod could become a sacred reliquary of someone’s life.  Another neighbor made a touching speech about John, about how he and Deb had a big family with lots of other siblings (the other neighbors on the block) and a lot of kids (us neighbor kids growing up on the block).  Deb pulled me aside at one point to tell me how proud he always was of me.

There’s more to type . . . but not in the scope of this entry.  Maybe later—all the normal clichés this type of thing inspires.  But I hate to be cliché…I might have to filter the sentiments through odd, metaphorical characters—maybe in this case it would be dialogue between a living vampire pumpkin and manic-voiced anthropomorphic personification of nostalgia (in this case, personified by a talking pogo stick with a chicken leg and rabbit head).  Maybe.

I’ll really miss John come the next Buffett concert.

I have a tremendous compulsion to keep my iPod updated.

7-11 No More

On a particularly impulsive Wednesday, I quit 7-11.  I’m going to write my novel full time, for the next couple months, get that done and work on fixing my shattered sleep cycle.  I’ll worry about regular work after that.

Book of Dead Things:  A Nomination

On November 25th, I and some of my fellow anthology authors did a live reading and book signing at Café Aeon, for our book, Book of Dead Things.  It was fun.  We sold a few books.  I love doing live readings and Café Aeon is a great place to do them (the other authors agreed).  And now a few copies of Book of Dead Things can be found on the cafe’s shelves.

Also, over at Dark Scribe Magazine, Book of Dead Things was nominated for Best Dark Genre Fiction Collection.  If you click the link and register, you can vote for us (come on! do it!!!).

Coming Soon

Danielle got the job as princess at Medieval Times!  She’ll start up sometime in January.  You should go there, eat without utensils, and cheer my sis on.

Conclusions…

Me and Sleep are getting along a little better.  She’s even shared the same bed with me a little.  I told her we might get therapy.  Maybe there’s hope for us after all.

Quietly Screaming

30 Tuesday Oct 2007

Posted by scrivnomancer in Uncategorized

≈ 20 Comments

Tags

7-11, acting, sleep deprivation, tv pilot, vampires, white hen

Going mad-mad-mad in third-shift land . . .

John, my venerable cop chum who I’ve befriended in my graveyard shift pulled me aside and gave me a hushed warning, told me to call him if there was ANY sign of trouble and I thought to myself, “Cripes!  I’ve been awake for 29 hours…I can’t handle a gang war.”

We’ll get back to that.

First though, and more cheerfully, it’s a scientific fact that hot cider tastes better while listening to ghost stories.  I got to further support this theory on the 20th, at Volo Bog.

Second, I apologize to all my close friends, all the friends I normally see on a normal basis, all my far flung friends that I might visit on occasion, and all you electronic lovelings on the internet—I’m way, way, WAY behind on emails and even further behind on phone calls.  I’m not shunning anyone.  I’m just in a frenzied, bad place and have very few hours.  By way of example…let’s get back to the start of this post…

I’ve been working 40 hours each week, 3rd shift, at 7-11 (the artist formally known as White Hen)—but with the wind chill and demanded extra shifts; it’s more like 50+ hours.  I don’t want to get off on a rant about my job, but I think that if I died and went to Hell, it would be working at a convenience store, and all the clocks would be broken, and my watch would be blank, and I’d keep doing tasks of Sisyphus-level productivity, and occasionally ragged, insane, and damaged lost souls would wander in and jabber incomprehensibilities before leaving and my mind would be too fogged to recall what day it was or when my shift began or when it would end, too fogged to recall just what lay outside the fogged store windows…

Meanwhile, a couple Wednesdays ago, my brother Nick and I went to Chicago for an audition he discovered on Craigslist for the pilot episode of a TV show about vampires.  Brutal traffic, but we make it on time and the we do some readings and it goes well.  The director seems impressed with the both of us.  He’s in a rush to cast the thing and film it over the weekend (it’s more of a pilot teaser to shop around).

Nick, our friend Dori, and I all go and film as badass vampires, a couple of Saturdays ago.  But that Saturday I was told (I was not asked) that I would fill in for someone and work at 7-11.  That meant a 33+ hour workday:  3rd shift Friday night into Saturday morning, straight to the shoot Saturday morning into Saturday evening, straight to another 3rd shift.  I’ve been awake that long before . . . but never actively working straight through it (except for a 40 hour writing stint when I was finishing the White Wolf novel draft, which caused me to go quite mad).  My body didn’t like that.  My mind started giving out.  And to top it all off, John the cop came and informed me (in whispers) that there was a potential gang battle between two gangs from towns on the opposite sides of my town (and I being only thing open in the misty-mid-region between).  This was not the thing I wanted to hear at a point in time, when I thought the cash register was changing the locations of it’s keys on me as part of some prank (and I swear I could hear it laughing Puckishly!).

No gang battle.  John and his comrades shut down a party one of the gangs was throwing (apparently to plan nefarious deeds), and said bangers were sent packing back to their town.  John came back to inform me.  I gave him more free donuts, coffee, and sandwiches.  I got home Sunday morning, saw Nick sleeping, and realized, to my horror, that he had slept twice in the time that I was awake.

Fast forward to Monday the 22nd.  Nick gets call from the vampire director.  Bad news, he lost the footage (computer crash)—could we film again on Wednesday.  Yes.  This meant another long day for me (3rd shift—shoot—3rd shift).  Egads!  I had enough Monster energy drinks to flat-line the Leviathan.

But I survived.

This is just to illustrate why I don’t have much time for socializing.  It’s not you, it’s me and . . . ugh . . . sorry . . . cliché head freeze.

There is one tiny advantage to this burn-out pace—I’ve lost 7 pounds in the last week and a half.  Of course, it’s probably not healthy weight loss.  It’s probably seven pounds of muscle, internal organs, and happiness.

I got to loose this job.

Saturday night, I started yawning.

“No yawning yet,” said the woman I was training.

“I’m not yawning,” I said, “I’m screaming very quietly.”

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