Who Needs Sleep? Well, you're never gonna get it.

I have a long history of poor sleeping. My whole family does. For the past couple of years it had become part of my sleep pattern to wake up for at least an hour or two in the middle of the night. Moving to this apartment saw a gradual improvement in my sleeping pattern. Not having roommates making full-on meals at 3 am, and no longer living in a neighborhood where night-long shouting matches and large garbage trucks are part of the background noise helped. But the past few weeks have seen a resurgence of insomnia with a vengeance. Case-in-point, now it is 5:15 am. I slept from approximately 1:45 am to 2:30 am, when I was awoken by Linus puking on the bed. I have not been able to return to sleep. Tim's alarm goes off in an hour and a half. That means I will probably fall asleep in an hour, so that I have juuust entered some good sleep when I get to be awake for him to snooze for 30 goddamn minutes. Not that I'm bitter. Then I will sleep until approximately forever, thus continuing a terrible pattern that will destroy my circadian rhythm. And no, I don't want tips for falling asleep or beating insomnia, thanks.

The job-that-must-not-be-named continues. I am doing the actual door-to-door work now in an upscale apartment building. The first day was great, but a family complained because the nanny spoke with me, so they quit letting me up. Their solution was to have the doorman (oh excuse me, concierge...he corrected me the other day) call up to each of the 90 apartments on my list. This is in between his regular doorman duties and he's kind of a dick about it. The other day he did other things and left me standing around waiting for him to call up to apartments for 45 minutes. We have this phony cordial relationship that I hate having with people, when in reality we are loathing each other more by the day.

On Saturday I had a different doorman who actually let me wander the halls, which was awesome. Today, Greg the Concierge was back and he gave me a hard time. First, insisting that I have been more productive when I have called up to apartments (not true) and then saying, well I had more yesterday because it was a Saturday afternoon. But today was Mother's Day. A FAMILY Day! And people were not going to want to talk to me. Also not true. Also? Not his problem. Which is interesting considering he has made it clear that we are not a team, not working together, and that he is basically doing me a favor.  Ultimately though he let me up, when I reminded him of how many apartments he was going to have to call.

All in all the work is ok. People have been pretty cooperative for the most part. Then, there was this interaction:
This kid who is like my age had made it clear that he has tons of money. i.e. "Oh I don't know if this is my primary residence. I have several residences and I'm always traveling. So you could even consider Paris, Milan, and London primary residences." (Totally serious by the way.)

So then I ask him about ethnicity. And he says that he doesn't understand. So I read off a list of possible Hispanic, Latino or Spanish origins for him. And he says "well I speak Spanish fluently." and I said...ok....well...is your family of any of these backgrounds? And he tells me he had an Argentinian nanny who "practically raised him." And then says he also speaks French and "you can see how this is so confusing!"

I was being observed by a supervisor. If I hadn't I would have said "you arrogant jerk. Speaking a language does not make you of that culture. You are a moron and you are clearly rich and white, so why don't we just go ahead and mark that down." In the end I wrote in "Latino" per his request.

He also said that his "power-of-attorney" sometimes stays at his place. Why he chose to identify her first as a power of attorney, rather than his sister (which he said later), is anyone's guess.  I assume it's to make sure I know he's so rich that he requires someone to have power of attorney.

So....basically what we have is a rich white kid, who travels a lot for his rich, white job. In his travels he meets people who have a wide variety of ethnic backgrounds and cultures. He starts to feel lame for just being a boring white kid, so at every opportunity tries to pretend like he is anything more interesting than a trust fund baby.  Blech.  So glad it's not someone I know in real life.

Supervisors keep telling me how great I'm doing though, which is good. I am hoping that once this part is done I can do some part-time office work for them. My goal is to not get a real job until September.

Bill, the guy who lives in my building and wouldn't tell me on what floor, hates me almost as much as Greg the Concierge. I will see him at team meetings and he ignores me. I saw him today and he said goodbye, looking at everyone but me. Fortunately, my life moves on. And it turns out that so many people are refusing to speak to him that it's becoming a problem. That's what you get jack-ass.

Now to try sleep again.  Perhaps my watching the Duggars as research for my next post.