So I am back at work. Oh goody, just the way I wanna spend a Friday night. Christ. I got a call from the publishing house b/c they couldn’t log in to my folder where I had electronically transmitted the ads. Accordingly, I’d had trouble logging in to my server and had to have somebody called at home to find out why my passcodes weren’t working. But then they worked, and I got the hell outta here.

Unfortunately, I was gone no more than five minutes when I had to get BACK in the car (as I was buying a pint of Ben & Jerry’s in celebration of supposedly being done) and drag my ass back up here. So I put the PDFs on their public server, and I’ve been waiting for a return call from my buddy Gisele over there to find out if it worked this time. Keep your fingers crossed for me!

I put in 42 hours of work during the past three days alone, and have worked every day since Jan. 6. On my pathetic salary. Sheesh. For all y’all religious folk who are afraid you’re going to hell — guess what? You’re in it right now, baby! Don’t even tell me that I’m going to get through this life and go somewhere worse. I stay out of trouble, I do good work, I am nothing but supportive of my friends and family, and I try to make somewhat of a small difference in this world. I want people to remember that I was here. I don’t give a shit if they love me or hate me — I only care that they remember, and maybe years down the road even appreciate, me and/or what I contributed to their lives.

I haven’t had a cigarette since Sunday night, but I bought a pack tonight. Haven’t had time to even open it, but I simply cannot WAIT to have one. Since the previous occupant had a smoke in here on his last day, it’s only appropriate that I should light up, too. But these folks here seem to know every move I have made during the past few weeks. And I am bitter that my job wasn’t guaranteed three weeks ago, and that even though I’d done nothing wrong up until that point, I was rendered guilty without a trial. And still, I have to compete for this new job, even after all the tears (and there were a few, trust me) and aggravation I had to endure for this one. And that my paycheck was only slightly better than Mac Guy’s — only his was for two days, mine for 15 days — still scorches my s’mores.

I was impressed with him to a degree, but as I ended up re-doing a percentage of his work, well, I can’t say I’m so impressed. But I will give him one more chance next month, as I do have to commend what he did manage to learn in the two days he was here. And he came in for an hour or so today because he was feeling bad that I had to continue working on the layout that he’d thought he’d finished. His timing was good, because he knows shortcuts that were taking me hours to figure out, and it’s nice to have someone else here, because I’ve really been feeling like I’m alone on the Titanic. *

(*And before I see another comment, e-mail or posting that I am a martyr for not asking for help, well, remember that a martyr dies for a cause. I lived for one, and I also lived through it. And I am stronger and more skilled because of it. And I am damn proud of myself, because the only person’s opinion who matters in this situation is, well, mine.*)

Next month will be better, I am certain, although it kinda upsets me that the paper is due after my grandfather’s birthday, and it’s not like he has a lot of them left, so I won’t be able to be in Pittsburgh for it. Jobs are supposed to make you financially able to live your life, not keep you from celebrating it.

Oooh, just got off the phone with Gisele. It worked this time!!! Now to get the fuck OUTTA HERE!!!

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