Wednesday, November 27, 2002

Thanks for nothing

My sour mood continues. I recognize that I'd done as much as I could do at my previous job, and there were a fair number of the person rewriting me is a moron days. And it took me a while to feel the level of comfort in the job itself as well as the building. There were days when it all felt a little pointless: Nobody ever sees/hears the stories I write. Trained monkeys could do my job. But at least the biggest news of the day wasn't that Nicolas Cage filed for divorce from Lisa Marie Presley (with people referring to them to screen actors guild operators as "Nic Cage" and "Lisa Presley"). At least I wasn't held hostage a good 90 minutes after I was supposed to leave, being told "we'll let you go in two minutes...", drumming my fingers on the desk until he is ready to let me watch him rewrite my story without any input from me. I realize I have stuff to learn, but I can learn it just as easily by reading the story tomorrow and seeing how it's rewritten. At least the people didn't regularly make fun of other people's writing and typos behind their backs, as if that isn't the reason editors exist. I guess I should be thankful they make fun of my writing to my face.

I did get to talk to the tree-hugger in Santa Clarita yesterday, about how he managed to stay in his tree overnight during 60 mile an hour winds. That story and a few others went through without any derisive commentary. But is it too much to ask that I find a job where I'm not always waiting for someone to tell me what to do? (again, didn't seem to bother me at the last job. It's all about internet access, I'm telling you.) Where I'm not totally paralyzed with fear of making the tiniest error for fear of being lambasted and made to feel like a monster screw-up? Where I earn more than I did when I was living in the Czech Republic?

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