So. The economy is shit. It's gotten so bad, I've actually been reduced to working "part-time" for my previous boss, Bartleby (not his real name, obviously). "Part-time" of course meaning here "awesome pay for questionable/laborious hours and (un)productive assignments, and possibly even random panicked calls during dinner."
Case in point: I have been saddled with the responsibility of being my boss's not-mind-reading office bitch ("Do this thing that I'm thinking of." "This thing?" "No, goddamn it, the other thing!"), who deals with everything from data entry to making deliveries or pick-ups to washing dishes. Because my former co-workers are "so busy" they can't be bothered to wash their own goddamn dishes. It doesn't help much that the holidays are coming up and yours truly has to decorate the office for the company party on Friday.
I'm a spirit of vengeance, people. We don't DO company holiday parties--family stuff, sure, but companies are a different matter (especially one I haven't worked for since I switched jobs last year). I have no idea how to comport myself without freaking these people out. And don't even get me started on my design sense (or lack thereof). Hell, I can barely dress myself appropriately for a night on the town with my college buddies, what makes anyone think I know how to "festively" match paper plates and napkins?
But, as I mentioned before, it's good money. Hell, it's so good, my parents are worried I won't make the requirements for the stimulus packages this coming April... But I have bills to pay, and no book deal.
At least not yet. I'm in talks with a friend who's trying to start an independent publishing company--I'll wait till I can read over the paperwork. And when I finally decide how I would like to tackle my manuscript's format...
