Proud momma moment. The person I’ve had the hardest time bonding with picked up the phone today out of the bloody blue to chat. CHAT! About Stuff! and Things! And was super-excited about them and about sharing them!
These are the moments I live for. Which, I should probably aim higher. 🙂 But honestly, I am psyched that we finally, finally have a connection. Finally.
A kid I went to elementary school with was just killed in a car accident.
He was one of the nice ones too.
Damn.
41 is too fucking young.
He was killed on a road where my family got into a terrible accident too. We were hit by a drunk driver. Screwed us all up for life.
My friend had four small kids. And everyone will say how sad that he was a father who left them behind.
I worry that if something happens to me, mom will be alone with no support or income. The woman who can’t leave the house by herself would be forced onto the streets without my income. She would probably die of a broken heart. And I wonder if the world would notice whether either of us were gone.
In any event, I hope his family finds a way to survive without him, financially and emotionally. And I will thank God that, by His grace, mom and I are OK for one more day.
Let me tell you about my day.
Wait, forget that.
Here’s something nicer you can read instead.
“Blood, Sweat and Beers: Escape Your Cubicle and Get in the Game”
“Work may begin with blood and sweat but ultimately it’s going to end in tears unless you get out of the office and get in the game.”
A friendly competitor’s group is in town this week, and I met up with them at the local wine dive for many drinks.
My arrival was a surprise to one of the guys, as planned. And it was wonderful to be welcomed so warmly.
He was one of my original boys, and when he saw me he introduced me to every single one of his paying subscribers who was hanging on his every word.
I inadvertently found myself re-selling his people on his awesomeness. Because I found myself missing the shit out of him as much as he does me.
Don’t get me wrong. We had our tough moments/days/years. But we got through it and came out better — both of us.
He was telling his listeners how we met 10 years ago. It was one day that I was needing an e-letter article and my main guy flaked out. (Not an unusual occurrence.) So this guy was in a cab on the way to the Oakland airport, dictating a column to me over the phone.
I was still green to the industry and I wanted to do a good job. And he knew I was new and was wondering how it would turn out.
He was thrilled with the job I did. He didn’t know that A) I take dictation and B) I was absorbing this stuff and could edit it coherently without making it wrong.
Anyway when the company decided to give him a new service shortly thereafter, he requested me. I had wanted to be on it but I didn’t know he actually liked me that much. But we teamed up and it was magic.
It was hell, too, don’t get me wrong. I tend to romanticize things when the present gets kind of tough. This is just a good reminder of how I make allies for life because I fight for and WITH them.
He wasn’t the only old friend I got to hang out with. And I had a good time talking to the customers too. They reminded me of who I am and why I do (and, in some cases, endure) this. I may write about them later. In fact, I know I will.
But as Dolly and Kenny sang, “You can’t make old friends.” And I love mine to pieces.
I hope that my new friends can become old friends someday, too.
FUCKING FACT-CHECK, PEOPLE.
Jesus CHRIST you all have higher educations and more experience than I have years on this earth.
But by all means, I am THRILLED to be here at something-past-six-o’clock, fact-checking and reassembling the Jenga tower you built based on FANTASY.
No Love,
Goddess
This time last year, a friend gave birth to a baby girl on the same day that a friend’s little girl got killed crossing the street in front of her school.
Today a friend is having donor eggs implanted so she can finally finally finally after years of trying have a successful pregnancy. And on this same day, another friend’s son was stillborn.
Remind me, when I want to light my own world on fire, of this post. That when there is something wonderful, there is also something terrible.
Either that means things aren’t that bad and and at least something truly terrible hasn’t happened. Or else things suck and maybe something magical is on its way.
‘Twas the last day of Mercury Retrograde (this cycle, anyway) and I’m not going to publish the post I wrote in a very heightened emotional state yesterday.
In any event, I had an epiphany on the drive in.
It occurred to me that, while I am very good at releasing rage and fear from my heart, sometimes all that gook gets clogged in my bloodstream. So, it never really leaves my body and travels back to my heart, where the cycle begins anew.
I had another epiphany as I continued to talk myself off the anxiety ledge.
I have no qualms or worries or fears about my massive workload. I know I’ll do it to the best of my ability. And I’ll do as much of it as I physically can before exhaustion or delirium sets in.
What I worry about is others.
I’m not going to qualify that. You can figure it out from my last 15 years’ worth of posts.
But honestly, without others disturbing me while I’m riding my melt … without others being honored or promoted or paid outside a level I may or may not personally believe they deserve … I’m not destroyed from the outside in.
The thing is, when I feel adequately loved, compensated and left alone to do my thing, that’s when I’m happy.
Trust me, I got this. Get out of the way and let the magic happen.
So, I’m going to focus on that. I will never have balance. But as long as I can have what’s rightfully mine, the body count can remain below 1.
I hope it says something about my character that the days when I SHOULD walk out in protest, are the days I stay the latest.
If I didn’t have a permanently puzzled reactionary look on my face, people probably wouldn’t recognize me.
Newman is Monday’s new name. Hello, Monday. *sneer*
It’s not a bad day. It’s just that everything in my home and personal life is up in flames, so really, any work-related stress is like a picnic in comparison right now.
I made a couple of proofreading oversights in a weekend edition. Now, nobody realized that I completely rewrote the weekend edition the week before or that I am the reason behind what I thought were some wonderful edits in this weekend’s. But I overlooked a couple of boneheaded mistakes, and that annoys the poop out of me.
But, for every fail, there is always the opportunity to rack up a win. Like when I just corrected a 30-year industry veteran’s ramblings because he insisted on using the letter C in an 18-digit mystery code when it needed to be a P. Twice.
There are days when I say I wish I were dumber so I’d automatically be more successful. But the truth is, I’d rather be brilliant. Or at least marginally observant so that I can still appreciate me even when half the rest of the world doesn’t.