Writing guidelines
I am going to develop some more comprehensive writing guidelines for those who submit shit to me. Honestly, I have been bashing my head against my keyboard today for nearly three hours, straightening out one story that I already asked the writer to rip apart and re-write. This is her second and final version, and deadline has long since passed, so you know what kind of mood I’m in. 🙂 She’s not a bad writer at all — she’s just too academic in her writing, not journalistic, so I committed myself to just making the transition for her, only under her name. Isn’t she lucky. LOL.
At any rate, my final comment is that, when you’re submitting a story to me and you reference a number of Internet sites, please dear god PLEASE be sure the links work!!! I keep clicking on her links to check their validity, and the sites don’t exist. And they’re all fucking Geocities sites, too, which just suck as a general rule. (Doug? Do you hear me? Use Blogger or MT, fer crissakes!) Ugh. At any rate, I am now trying to either find these fucking sites or re-write the sentences to omit the original source.
One last note about people — Ethics Boy here at work is one of those many who finds subtle ways of deflecting work back to you with creative ways of saying, “It’s not my job.” Fuck you. Fuck all of you who can’t help a sister out, especially when y’all want me to do YOU a favor but can’t HELP me to HELP YOU!!! I asked him to caption a stupid photo he sent me of some dipshit holding a plaque. His response? “Here are two people’s e-mail addresses — you contact them for information, as I am not comfortable writing a caption about the award.” What the bloody hell fuck? I zipped back a big-fat-meany response to the effect of, “Not going to make this a production, and the photo sucks anyway, so if you can’t tell me the name of the award, bite my big fat white ass.”
Of course, Ethics Boy pales in comparison to Mailroom Boy, who has officially dumped his lone remaining duty (distributing the mail) onto the receptionist. We won’t talk about how many tens of thousands of dollars he takes home each year more than I ever will. He already makes us do our own UPS and FedEx, and he refuses to take interoffice mail, even though he clearly hands me Shan’s mail, hands her mail for the MIS and Accounting departments, and managed to lose a $75,000 check for three days, even though the receptionist — who can’t leave her desk except on designated breaks — asked him to please hand the money directly to Shan. Grrr. Idiocy, plain and simple.
Okay, bitch fest over. Back to work, if I don’t slit my own throat first. 🙂 Calgon, take me away!!!