At Least I'm Not In Yemen!

I’m on the road again, but this particular road is I-81, and I’m sitting with a delightful couple in the front seat, one of my best friends on my right, heading up to see another of my best friends doing what she does best – excelling in her chosen profession of acting. I’m also working on yet another “one last thing” for Yemen, the time for which I don’t really have. The energy for which I have even less of. However, I’m getting those excessively polite e-mails from the TL which are a clear indicator that he thinks I’m being lazy and I need to get off my rear end. I know him well enough by now to know that – these are the same “screw you” e-mails he used to have me spend an hour helping him compose. So this means that, despite what was supposed to be a leisurely weekend spent with some of my favorite people in the world, I’ll be spending time writing and working whenever possible. I’m not tremendously happy about this, and I have a feeling it will result in something approximating an all-nighter on Sunday when we get back, but that’s preferable to being on the receiving end of more e-mails from TL. Much to his dismay, this is far from the only project I’ve got on my plate, so his stubborn refusal to believe that I could have anything else to do that might possibly rival the awesome and all-encompassing importance of this section that I don’t have time to write has unfortunate repercussions for me. The problem is that every other client I have is of the same mind-set. Apparently they don’t place the same importance on my regular sleeping patterns that I do – but the sooner this is done, the sooner I can get the proverbial monkey off my back.

But hey – any day that I wake up and I’m not in Yemen is a good day.

I do, however, find it vaguely wrong that I’m done with college and grad school, and I’m still pulling all-nighters.

The weekend was fantastic, Marsha was fantastic in Julius Caesar and Antigone, not that I would expect any less of her. She also turned 30, making a certain someone the last of a group of four to join the 30s age bracket. (It’s where all the cool kids are anyway.)

I just got the environmental review done for Yemen and sent it in, one day late. However, as wasn’t surprising, I started getting e-mails at 5 am, somewhat insulting that became very insulting as the morning wore on, enquiring as to the whereabouts of the environmental review. My (semi) patient explanation that I had been overloaded with a number of other assignments that had deadlines BEFORE this one fell on deaf ears, and was, in fact met with the charming statement that “well ,we all are working on many projects and the rest of us are able to meet our deadlines.” The rage bubbling up inside of me at that statement was indescribable. Particularly after having listened to him complain and complain and complain (we’re talking hours, people) about people who wanted things from him more quickly than he could produce them and how they just didn’t care or were completely unreasonable. “I am working day and night! What more they want from me? To never sleep?”

*ahem*

I have to say, I used to defend TL when people would say he was rude and difficult and all of those things. While I will still give him credit for being very good at his job and good to work with in person, I can’t really say that he’s not a tool, given the way he’s treated me in the last day or so. He can be very “kick the dog”, and I don’t feel like being the dog in question. But whatever, it’s done, and while I’m sure he’ll have corrections or some such thing for me to make, I don’t rightly care at this point. I’ve got plenty of other things on my plate.

But that’s enough about work-y-ness. Now that I’m not off in some exotic (read: soul-sucking) location, I can’t imagine all that will be quite as interesting. Of course, that assumes that anyone ever found reading about my job to be interesting. I can see where that wouldn’t be the case with most (all) people.

Special K (I’m still playing around with that nickname – it kind of makes me laugh, so I may go with it for a bit) called earlier to ask if he could bring me something for dinner. Have I mentioned that he doesn’t live all that close to me, and that he was just doing it because he knew I was massively stressed out?

*le sigh*

Who’s a lucky girl? That’s right – definitely me.