Caterwauling

E-mail from the Exec, 12:18 p.m.

Dawn:

Regards,

K.K.

E-mail from the Prez, 12:38 p.m.

Dawn-

The Prez

V.M. from the Exec, 4:14 p.m. Copied to Demure.

Overall, while the issue was good, I am following up on my promise to mention when I find things that (were done wrong). And so, the ad on page 23 was never approved by me, and I would like to know why it appears. Not to mention that it has a date on the bottom of October 2003, so now I have to (do a small amount of damage control, thanks to you). I want an explanation.”

Dawn’s response via e-mail, to Exec and Demure. Copied to Graphic Goddess.

Hi Demure and Exec,

Please let me know if further explanation is needed.

Dawn

I kicked ASS today, despite the fact that I was annoyed at Demure’s request that I account for how my work went this weekend. But as she is a micromanager that way, I have to forgive her, because that’s just her style. She works all the damn time — I suppose she’s just thrilled to have someone else who burns the midnight oil.

But the VM countered any warm fuzzies that could possibly have been generated by the initial e-mail. I think it’s fairly obvious that a case is being built against me, should I actually go ahead and apply for editorship. And I didn’t mention that I’d called Graphic Goddess on Sunday, between bathroom trips, but I was unable to reach her as I tried to make a final decision. So I made a bad call. It was better than all the ads with snowflakes and autumn leaves in them. And I was too sick to really read for dates, let alone try to change them.

Please, please, let there be no further glaring errors. If this is the worst he can come up with, fine. But considering that he was definitely reading the fine print in order to come up with material for the voice mail, well, my guess is that he’s going to be doing some long and hard reading tonight. Oh goody.

For my salary, I do NOT need this aggravation. I did my best, and if that’s not good enough, well, I can do no better. Not in this environment, anyway.

Well, I’m back at work, after a too-short break spent feeling too sick. My papers were waiting for me when I unlocked my office today, which was a treat. They look good, although I’ve found three mistakes. Nothing too big — one will require a correction next month. The rest, well, I had my title wrong somewhere and I also didn’t accommodate one of Kumquat’s requests with a headline, even though I had fully agreed with his logic (surprising).

Today is the day I am supposed to turn in my resume to be in the running for the editor’s job. Considering that I awoke this morning and burst into tears at the thought of being here today, well, I take that as a sign. Look, I want the job. I think it would be a great line on a resume. And I had fun doing it. And I really enjoyed catching up on some of my bills with my slightly improved paycheck. But at what cost to me? I lost sleep, I canceled outings with friends, I became violently ill, etc. And then I came in today to an e-mail from Demure, asking me to outline the work I have done since she left Friday night — work that was done on my own time, at my own expense. I was furious. No, that’s not right. I was so exhausted that I couldn’t feel anything but sadness, that I have to account for my own personal time spent working, especially when there is absolutely no financial reward for it.

All in all, my paper looks great. And I did nearly all of it myself, and I am pleased with the skills I learned. I did this for me, not for the Veggie Patch. Nobody gave a shit that a friendship dissolved over this scenario, nobody gave a shit that my personal life dissipated, nobody gave a shit that I was here every night after the cleaning crew left. And nobody gives a shit that after I get done cleaning up the files and offices today, the whole process starts again. And I have 143 unanswered e-mails and a voicemail box that I haven’t even tapped yet, all of which are messages demanding something of me — my time, my knowledge, my resources, my energy. And friends, I don’t have anything left to give today.

So should I put the resume in the ring? I haven’t even worked on that, just to give an indicator of how busy my life has been.

I’ve said it before here, and I’ll say it again. Jobs are supposed to make you financially able to enjoy your life, not prevent you from living it. I have so many things happening in the lives of people I love, and they want me to share in those days and events. And if I take this job, I will certainly miss every one of them, the way deadlines fall. Yet if I take this job, I will be able to have a few dollars in the bank, which will be nice for when I CAN get away, as right now, I can’t even afford the gas money or the airfare to see these friends and family members whom I miss so dearly.

And for all my talk of wanting to start a business, well, I am too tired to think about it. I don’t want to rot away here any longer, but am I truly ready to throw myself into this unknown venture? What is going to make me say fuck it and just do it already? Is anything?

And will anyone in this damn workplace even appreciate what I have gone through for them?

Look, I want this job. I want to compete for it. But I am not certain that I want to serve as a representative for yet another company that I don’t believe in. They go against every management principle ever written. They sing from a different page than from which they act, and knowing that I am disposable to them, do I want to give them even more of the heart that breaks every day that I pull into this parking lot?

Update

After nice thank-you e-mails from the exec and the prez, I left a VM for HR, noting that I’ve worked nonstop since Jan. 7 and that the only day I didn’t work — yesterday — was spent in bed with the stomach flu, so I haven’t had time to prepare a resume. I requested an extension to Friday, as I noted, “I won’t be doing my resume today during work time.” (Blogging, however, is an entirely different matter. … lol). I said that now that the issue is in-hand, I suppose I can see myself doing this on a regular basis, and I asked her to please advise on whether my deadline can be extended, given that my work had to be a priority to going through the formal application process to get the job that I am already doing. Two hours have passed. No word yet. 🙂

Forgive the Dirty Vegas lyric, bu it works here.

Had a few e-mail exchanges with CR lately — it’s my turn to respond.

I wrote about him weeks ago, but for those tuning in, he was one of those special people I knew I was meant to meet in this world. I love him and would do anything for him, but life has taken us down two very separate roads that prevent us from being where I want to be, which would be in his arms. But that’s OK — I love him enough to want him to be happy, even if it’s without me.

That said, I kind of giggled when he wrote about our mutual favorite TV show, “South Park,” and he said he always thinks of me when it comes on. We spent many years intellectualizing the actions of the world’s famous foul-mouthed foursome. I miss him. Could use a hug from him right now, but then again, I could use a hug from anyone who really meant it. 🙂

My reply to his e-mail was that whenever I hear a Melissa Etheridge song (and a few others), I think of him. “Like the Way I Do” comes to mind. What I wouldn’t give for a man like him. What I wouldn’t give. …