Today: and, I cuss a lot.
Friday, Oct. 26, 2007 - 23:08

I finished my essay for the running club newsletter and submitted it this morning. I have been rereading it all day. I do that when I write things that delight me. Probably I am looking at it with an uncritical eye, but man, I'm so delighted with it. Once it's published, though, I'm sure I'll change my mind. Actually I will probably die of embarrassment. Oh god WHY did I write about minor gastrointestinal distress? I am an idiot.

Then I called the property management place. Never heard back from them, but my neighbor said some guy was wandering around the yard this afternoon holding a flashlight, and my outside spigot/spicket is now turned off. They never called to say they were sending someone over, though, and I thought they were kind of required to do that. I suppose the crazy lady from Michigan who's locked in my basement must have turned the water off. Thanks, pal!

Then I picked up my plaque for the race series. I won the Women's Senior II division. The WOMEN'S SENIOR II DIVISION. I am going to BURN this plaque. I am not ready to join AARP, jesus christ.

Then I went to work. That was lame.

Then I came home and was immediately beset upon by my neighbor.

We went to a hockey game. I had no idea they played hockey here. They do.

Boy. Hockey. It was my first time.

I have to work tomorrow and it will be dumb. Here's why I'm mad: I get paid fucking $10 an hour to edit the shit out of these documents and publications. One of the reports I was editing today was drafted by a woman who bills us fucking $70 an hour because she calls herself a consultant, but the stuff she writes is crap - it's a bunch of nothing, disguised behind lots and lots of nonsensical clauses. I make these things actually make sense, I'm not just editing for style here or the occasional typo. No. Five years ago I was charging $15 an hour for freelance editing, and I have an MA now, and there's inflation to consider here. I love editing, I love the work I'm doing, but it's lame that she's getting paid a lot for very little and I'm getting paid very little for a lot.

This is why it's important for people to not find out what their coworkers make. Hint for future success: never have your low-paid peons make photocopies of contractor invoices. They will become pissy and will write paragraphs like the above.

I should call Friend 1 and see if she's thought any more about starting a consulting and research company. Because, fuck. And I wouldn't even charge $70 an hour. I'd charge $50, and I wouldn't produce shit.

Also: dude it's cold in my house, and it's not even cold yet. Why couldn't they have given me some fucking insulation? What the fuck is wrong with this world?