I've had the nicest days, yesterday and today. I dedicated myself to making contact with my old associates from last two jobs on Tuesday, and the benefits just started pouring in immediately.
- I got a temporary gig helping my two-jobs-ago association get ready for their spring meeting for the next three weeks
- The designer I worked with one job ago offered to design me a logo and business cards gratis because I am just that cool
- The person who hosted the aviation joint's website offered to host myname.com for free for six months, which I am gladly taking him up on
- The PR guy from the aviation job reminded me that his wife edits a magazine, and said he'd pass my resume on
- My sister's boss called and offered me some jobs copyediting for the end of this week
It almost makes me think I can do this, live the kind of life I want. It has the added bonus of making me feel warm and fuzzy about DC, which was suffering terribly in comparison to Costa Rica.
And, you know, it's spring. I obviously just suffer more angst in the winter. As soon as I figure out how, I'm moving south. Somewhere Spanish-speaking and beach-y. I want everyone to sigh enviously when they hear about it.
I'm already here, at the two jobs ago job, answering phones for an outrageously high hourly rate. When I worked here for real, I cried all the time. I used to have dreams about one of my supervisors and wake myself up, crying in my sleep. It's an office dominated by very smart, aggressive women who excel at finding out people's vulnerabilities and exploiting them. It's chock-full of people who grew up in homes with alcoholics. It's a specific and insidious kind of dysfunctional environment that's strangely alluring. Working there (here) was a lot like being in an abusive relationship; the highs were so high (we were the smartest, most competent employees on the planet! No one could produce what we produced at such an impeccably high standard! Warm, fun dinner at a five-star restaurant for everyone!) and the lows were abysmal (one of the pages in one of the 100 editions of the 300 page board books was very slightly skewed! We are all idiotic, unprofessional, and frankly unattractive wastrels who should start calculating how they could maintain their lifestyles on unemployment!). We had 200% turnover in the two years I worked here. One girl had a complete nervous breakdown and was transported directly to an institution. There were a lot of ulcers and stress-related skin conditions.
But coming here temporarily, a grizzled veteran who knows the system and still has friends on staff...it feels good. Though my stomach did flip, frankly, when I got to the door this morning. I love my old boss, and it's comforting to do work I know how to do. Plus they're letting me double-dip, editing articles on their time.
Life is good. For once--write this down--it's good to be me.
Recent Comments