Here I sit, blogging on a Friday night. Oh joy and rapture. I wasn’t lacking an invitation to go out, but it’s kinda difficult with no money. Whatsoever. Until payday on Tuesday, when I write out the rent check and whatever bills have gone neglected (i.e., home phone). Argh.
Got a response to the lone personal ad that’s still live. All these fricking sites charge you to open your mail, but at least I got to see its subject line. It’s from a couple. A COUPLE!!! Christ, I can’t even chew gum and drive, or smoke and walk, without running into a curb. Although I’ve always had fantasies about being a guest star (a la Samantha Jones), I can’t say I’m interested. 🙂 Oh well! Better luck next time. … Perhaps they liked my headline (as repeated above), and why wouldn’t they? 😉
Met a hottie in Starbucks tonight (as I paid with quarters for my cinnamon spice mocha). Perhaps I will go back for a different type of hot liquid to drink. … 😉 Only next time, I need to have cash so I don’t look so pathetic!
Blew the remainder of my bank account tonight. Bought a nifty, cheap little lamp at a local discount store. It’s square, black wrought-iron with a square blue shade inside of it. Cool as shit. I worked 12 hours today — damn it, I deserved it, and the cost equaled an hour of pay (not to insinuate that I am paid hourly, though).
Not to pitch a bitch about work, but Jackie Chan put me on a team to pull together a press conference on this coming Monday, and he put the brakes on my involvement today. I had written a great press release and spent the equivalent of three hours advising him on media relations (as he has no fucking clue about it). I thought this would be my chance to shine, but no luck. Unfortunately, he knows I’m swamped, so yanking me off the team, he felt, was the best decision for all of us. Chickenshit even made Shan break the news to me, and then he instructed her to give my shit to my predecessor, who is now his mistress, I believe. I’m slightly furious, but the fact is, I didn’t have adequate time to devote to it (even though, at Shan’s and my request, he did move it to Tuesday). I told IKEA Boy that I shouldn’t be this disillusioned, only four months into the job.
That’s when it occurred to me why my lucky number is three … at every job I’ve held, I’ve hit my breaking point at the four-month mark. For instance, at this time last year, I was happy as a lark at Two Strikes (actually, I was getting ready to go to South Carolina with Brat for what I had hoped would be a 14-Karat Fuckfest). The day after I returned to Pittsburgh, Incoherent Twit told me that Her Royal Pretentiousness was on a rampage and wanted to rip us both to shreds upon my arrival into work, four days from then. And she did. Big time. Again, I’d been at the job a mere four months.
Perhaps this is why I need to do a full-time consulting gig, and now I know to limit my stints to four months. Heh. I really thought I’d show Jackie, et. al., how dazzling, powerful, resourceful and influential I can be. And when Shan and I tag-teamed him with all of our ideas, concerns, needs and potential, he did his faggy eye flutter and ran screaming from the office 10 minutes later, not to be seen till the next day. Bastard.
Something I’ve learned, in my extensive non-profit experience, is that there are two forces that make an organization work: the program people and the operations people. The program people have the dreams and the desire and the heart, but they don’t know shit about logistics. Then the operations people (like me) buy into the dream long enough to figure out how to make these grand dreams come true. Program people don’t like details, planning or, god forbid, Plan Bs. Operations people want to kick program people in the ass, because we can’t reach their heads that are in the clouds. Jackie is a program person. HRP was a program person. IKEA Boy, Shan, F/OM and I play for the other team, and we are the people who will die trying to please program people if we don’t wise up and learn to chase our own dreams.
I’m not angry, and I’m not going to turn back into a person who hates going into work every day. But can Jackie even conceive of the potential he’s missing? I beat him over the head with advice and ideas, and I made it clear from the get-go that my best contribution to the project would be in an advisory capacity. Then he acted shocked when he found out that my time really WAS limited, and he seemed to reject the professional advisement I provided. My name is off the press release, off the project, off the list for future endeavors. Now dumb bitch Jennifer will be considered our press conference queen. What’s sad is that she is picking up where I left off, and I accomplished a lot, I think, in two days. And they’re PAYING her!!! I was going to go in tomorrow and VOLUNTEER my weekend to pull the conference together. Shit. Am I stupid?
Jennifer is going to get the glory, and that’s what burns my muffins. But least I don’t have to fuck Jackie to keep my job, though. 🙂 Something tells me that I might just perhaps be getting the better end of the deal.