I wished my designer a happy anniversary today — we have produced a solid year’s worth of newspapers together without killing each other or anybody else. Although, granted, the temptation to knock out the lights of the people who are making us earn every single gray hair on our heads can be overpowering sometimes. 🙂

I had a funny feeling that I would put in my resignation during this issue. Seriously, I get the idea (and nobody’s convinced me otherwise) that certain people want me to fail. I’ve been given an indication that these people don’t necessarily believe all the computer problems I tell them I have (and believe me, I have more than they will ever hear about). I got chastised mightily for being up-front about slicing some editorial last month (that nobody even knew existed until, in the fair interest of disclosure, I happened to mention). I thought I would be proactive and tell them what I cut and why I decided to cut it (complete with budgetary backup). The response? That I am never ever to cut editorial without informing my supervisor first. My supervisor, of course, not having a journalism background and certainly not there during late nights locked in the castle, forcing the computer to, well, compute. Not to mention having to re-lay out the paper every time a new ad comes in — shouldn’t paid space be more important than editorial? Sheesh. Fuck me for having priorities.

I was also forbidden from editing a submission — this announcement, of course, arrived AFTER I had edited the thing. I was ordained to send it back and have the original writer chop it up, which she did, but I know that my editing was way better. However, I may not, as editor, do, OH, EDITING, but I have now been told to chase after another person to learn how to do their job. Which, of course, has something to do with the paper, but the reason I need to pick it up is because it isn’t being done by the person who was supposed to do it.

So I lost my marbles last week, noting to my supervisor, “OK. So I can’t cut editorial. I can’t cut ads. I can’t edit certain people’s submissions. But I have to go chase after (insert name) and tell them do their job so that they can teach me how to do it? Is this the TWILIGHT ZONE?!?!”

Of course, when I saw my supervisor’s frustration (partly at me; mostly at Cruise Director), I quieted down. She called off today — I wondered if it were a silent protest to the absolute inanity that went down last week.

In any event, this issue that I’m working on is important to me — I’ve been editor (in function and mostly in title) of my publication for a year, and at this time last year, I had no idea what I was in store for or how I would do it. All I really knew is that I would somehow do it. And without the political bullshit, it’s a good job. But the political bullshit (read: “other duties as assigned”) is the tough part.

But what I am proudest of is the communication I have with my staff, only one of whom works in my building (most are in other cities, states and time zones). All of the relationships came together very easily and continue to do so. We get frustrated but never really get irritated with each other — we talk and process and laugh and bitch. I would love to keep this job but work from home — anything to minimize the distractions and hoop-jumping that is expected outside of our little circle. Just goes to show that I need to run my own company, and I’m really never going to be truly happy until I do. But I know who I will call when I need help with that company, and thanks to the loyalty and respect we have cultivated, I know that they would be more than happy to help, when the time comes.

Happy anniversary, Veggie Patch Gazette. Here’s to a year of hard work under our belts!

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