Home bounding
Had intentions on working today.
Then I remembered the Boo to You Magical Market was today in West Palm.
It was fantastic! All Disney stuff, all from local small businesses.
I spent a small fortune.
Was out in the lobby, enjoying an apple cookie I’d just bought, when a text came through from Beth.
Urgent alert needs to go out, I’m at a funeral, can you help.
I mean, would it be a Sunday if we didn’t have an alert?
I said absolutely, I can be home in 10 minutes, I got you.
I edited the alert, the whole staff came online to support me if I needed it … and I was reminded once again that Editorial fucking deserves any downtime it can get on a weekday because we never get a weekend to ourselves.
Not that “downtime on a weekday” is even possible anymore.
But as another of my people said to me today … we can either kill ourselves five days a week or we can kill ourselves six or seven days a week … can’t we just drink and watch football one day a week? One?
I didn’t say it, but I thought, the company would probably commend the guy who sent the alert — to make sure I’m at home to finish the work I didn’t finish last week.
I started working on some other stuff after. But I was hit with the tired stick.
I’m happy I got to work on the alert. It’s good news and subscribers will be happy.
But I had wanted to get a flash tattoo.
Instead, here I am at home, in my cute Disney bounding outfit — Baymax themed, today — like everyone else there, who was dressed for a day at the parks and not some shitty Embassy Suites with crap parking and no sidewalks.
I got a custom Baymax shirt for Christmas. I am unnaturally excited about it.
But now I’m kind of like meh about all the other shit I have to do.
My person isn’t wrong. Is this a temporary thing or a forever thing?
I hope it’s temporary.
I really wonder, too, if I am just reading all the statements wrong and no one was concerned about our productivity specifically.
I guess we’ll find out.
But I sure hope there’s a happy medium between “produce more” and “don’t burn out to the point where someone else quits.”
You know what, fuck it.
My black outfit is covered in cat hair. And I’m riddled with anxiety over preparing for my soon to be wasted trip.
It’s not my fault I have five meetings tomorrow.
Which would have been six if I’d also moved the one the boss told me to move.
But I gotta see Mythic Bitch tomorrow and I am not taxing my soul any further.
Christ, this is all making me miss Walter. WALTER. Goddess help me. I must forget how bad that was, to say that one out loud.