Caterwauling

Vintage SATC.

As is my new outfit that just arrived in the mail from Chelsea Market.

Not that anyone has ever made fun of my “matchy matchy” clothes or looked down their nose calling me a “shallow shopaholic.”

No they told all their friends they don’t make fun of me … on the same platforms where they *checks notes* make fun of me.

They also make fun of my “blog that nobody reads.”

But they sure do bitch to their somehow thousand followers when by their own admission they are my only reader “to drive up visits so she doesn’t feel so alone.”

I hope you hit every red light for the rest of your life. And that you think of me hitting every green light I ever encounter.

“That green light. I want it.”

I am sure they take credit for an itinerary I planned when i was avoiding them like the plague they are.

Like I didn’t go to college with future Broadway geeks. Like I don’t have a friend A who works at Hilton and books employee rooms in Hell’s Kitchen and sees every show. Like M isn’t my NYC spiritual adviser.

Like I said on the socials, I don’t know what this person wants.

But it isn’t theirs to have even if it’s mine to give.

Good morning to everyone but the lying narcissist.

Since she clearly comes here for something to get aggrieved about.

Go post 49 more tweets about me this morning.

I can’t even be bothered to look in the one place I can still see.

Nothing fake here. No fake accounts. No fake stories. And no sorries since I never did anything wrong.

There are three projects that take turns kicking my ass every month.

The employee newsletter is the current one. It was yet another brainchild of DTOM. This one just makes up shit that THEY can claim as a goal, but then they just dump it on everyone else.

I address the company regularly in all the all-staff calls. I meet with my team for like 22 hours a week. I have literally nothing else to say and the article is required to be something they haven’t heard already.

Does DTOM write? No. And thank god for that, but still. My article is always the front page one (obviously). And it’s the last one turned in.

There’s another project I loathe that I got in trouble for last week because I did what I always do — write it, send it out, and move on with my life. But the data I was given was shit.

The original data I received was fine. But I asked the analyst for a refresh for publication day. And the person in whose name I write this 3,000-word manifesto saw the data and ended my free rein.

Do you know how much I dislike having to show my work? I’ve been writing for 35 years.

And it’s not even that — I write best when the deadline is two hours away.

Chasing down people who are busier than me to look at my nonsense is not built in to my somatic schedule.

And the third project is reviews. Twice a year. And now we know in hindsight that I wrote the last round while on PTO and with Covid.

Do I do this to myself? Of course I do. Not an ounce of these tasks are unfair or even unpleasant. I absolutely save them till they are unavoidable.

But that first observation though that DTOM creates shit for others to do is spot fucking on.

For all the chasing me she did recently to tell her how to do a project she made up … it’s still in limbo.

She’s chasing the person I need to chase for Project 2 above.

So it’s on hold till that person decides to be caught.

And then it ends with me having another worker to supervise and shepherd every week. I guess that 22 hours worth of meetings is about to become 25.

In better news, I haven’t seen the chaser person on their T lately. Not that it’s made them any more joyful to be around. But it’s nice to not have to reach for my anti-nausea smelling salts mid meeting.

I type all this to say the employee newsletter is overdue and finishing it just means it’s time to move on to the next project. Oh and 22 hours worth of meetings a week.