kiwifruit's Diaryland Diary ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- The ghost of Christmas past ... Ho. Ho. Hoooooo boy � Are the holidays over yet? I am feeling fat and frazzled and like I need to enter a detox center come January 2cnd. Anyone else with me? Maybe we can get a group discount. Work today was a fecking nightmare. When my condescending new boss says to me (or actually to my tits which is where he directs all conversation), �I need to talk to you about your writing � you�re a very good writer �� And I�m waiting for the �but� here. So we had a meeting this afternoon where he basically did what he always does, tear apart my technical writing skills. Which frankly, between you, me, and anyone else who cares to listen, isn�t really the worst things anyone�s ever said to me. My new boss has a �system� you see, where he feels compelled to edit anything and everything anyone writes so that he can feel superior. I especially love it when I send him a document in which I use word for word something he has written previously and he tears it apart. Hee hee. I get a special joy out of this. As I sit there with an intent look on my face and nod and agree with all his criticisms. So, after he gives me the �You�re a good writer� bit yet again I say to him. �Look. You don�t need to tell me I�m a good writer. I know I�m a good writer. I�m just not experienced in this kind of writing�. In other words the kind of dry, boring, ridiculously repetitive schlock that is now required of me. Unfortunately this kind of writing is also the kind of writing that is currently paying the bills (though freelance gigs still roll in which is lovely when I can manage to finish them without having a nervous breakdown). Lovely. Immediatley following my humbling little tongue lashing I called C. and whined. He asked me if I wasn�t �dramatizing� things a bit. Geez, thanks. But then again, he does have a point. I figure as long as my new boss likes to stare at my tits, my job is probably safe. Besides, having me around lets him have the pleasure of talking down to someone every day and I think he finds lots of joy in that. But C. called a while ago to ask me if I wanted to go on a �date� which means (gasp) just the two of us out to dinner, which we haven�t done in what seems like ages. Course, don�t think I don�t know the real issue here. The fact that not so deep inside I fear my boss may be right. And maybe I am a hack writer. And maybe I�ll end up living on Top Ramen because I�ll never be good at anything. 12:12 a.m. - 2001-12-22 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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