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It's 5:27 a.m.
No high to report as of yet other than I'm alive and haven't gone postal. :-)


It's 5:27 a.m. and I'm still awake. I'm a walking sleeping disorder.


Clint Black and
Lisa Hartman Black:
"When I Said I Do"

talked to:

The Best Friend. 


Why it seems that I self destruct every now and then. Am I just a glutton for punishment?

friday, july 28th

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Quote Du Jour:
"Live by what you believe so fully that your life blossoms, or else purge the fear-and-guilt producing beliefs from your life. WHen people believe one thing and do something else, they are inviting misery. If you give yourself the name, play the game. When you believe something and you don't follow with your heart, intellect and body, it hurts. Don't do that to yourself. Live your belief, or let that belief go. If you are not actively living a belief, it's not really your belief, anyway." - Roger John.

Dear Mr. Publisher,

My most recent term of employment with the newspaper has unfortunately brought a heavy emotional burden upon me. When I reflect on my relationship with this paper, I recall fondly the many hours I've worked to produce the best possible product. However, the most recent memories aren't as happy as I would like them to be. It seems that the old adage of "nothing stays the same" is indeed true.

I remember a time when the staff members of all departments worked enthusiastically towards the common goal -- regardless of whether the goal was the weekly paper or one of our many special publications. Today, I don't feel that bond. Perhaps, this is because most of the staff members were not here when I left the paper in 1998 -- they are new to me and new to the company.

Additionally, the rank-and-file employees seem especially disenchanted with many of the paper's projects. Most feel that the only goal at our paper is to make money and not to produce a quality product. Personally, I've seen the emphasis shift from attempting to produce an editorially superior product to generating additional advertising dollars.

As far as my personal performance is concerned, I understand that I have not pulled my weight in recent weeks. For that, I apologize. It seems that my drive to succeed has slowed considerably after witnessing the attitudes of coworkers. Perhaps I'm idealistic, but I support the concepts of working hard, producing quality products and teamwork. I don't believe my coworkers share these philosophies. Sure, I could step forward and work harder than the rest and try to produce better ads than the others... but for some reasons, I feel as though doing so would be like trying to win a game when they aren't keeping score.

I understand there are monetary rewards for our work in the ad composition department. I know this because my coworkers talk about them often. One wants the bonus by doing as little as possible and the other complains because the extra money isn't paid in cash. I look forward to the rewards, but I long even more for the renewed sense of teamwork and enthusiasm. I'm afraid the latter is no longer possible at this newspaper.

I thank you for the time you have taken to hear my grievances and concerns regarding this newspaper. Regardless of the what the future may hold, I will always look with fondness upon our paper. The hands-on education I've earned at the paper from people such as yourself is, I feel, better than any I could have received in a classroom. And for that, I will always be grateful.

Sincerely yours,

-I.M. Fletcher
(P.S. Have A Nice Day)

Okay, so I didn't give him that letter. I probably should. Who knows? I might... if things get rough. And they may get rough. Today (Friday) is our deadline to have the spec ads created. Have I done all of mine? Nope. Smiley Boy has done all of the easy ones. I've created a few here and there. As of Wednesday night, about a dozen remained.

I didn't go to work Thursday. I was having mood swings again. Up one minute and down the next. It's crazy. I can sit here, look at all of the good things in my life... and honestly appreciate them... and still feel so depressed. I'm not sure what this is all about... except for the fact it's exactly how I felt at the end of the Spring semester. And that finally culminated with a drinking binge. I don't want that again.

The boss may call me on my recent performance. I'm ready for it. My logic is that I'm doing little... but at least I'm not costing him money when I'm doing nothing. And when I do get cranking... the products I produce are pretty good. Of course, if he really wanted... I could be like the others. I could sneak in his office and go to sleep. I could sit in the lobby for an hour and gossip. I could take 15-minute smoke breaks every 45 minutes. I could get on the phone with my mother and argue. I could put as little effort into my work as possible. And then... and then... I could charge you for it all. Then I would be like the others. Would that make you happy, Mr. Publisher? (0459)

What is it about summer jobs and me? They just don't work. What about regular, year-round jobs? Can't recall ever having a problem. Last year's summer job failure actually wasn't a summer gig... it just started in the summer time.

I was supposed to be the editor of a weekly high school football magazine. The founder of the publication was a sports nut and looking to make a buck. (Warning signs, I know... but I just didn't see 'em). He told me I would be responsible for editing, designing and laying out the publication. He told me that I would have six writers to cover area football games. He told me about the new computer he ordered to make it all happen.

As time went on, all of the promises he made to me turned into, 'well, we're going to have to make due with out that -- this is a grass roots operation.' If I heard "grass roots" one more time, I thought I would go nuts. Finally, after he wanted control over everything I was supposed to do (didn't he hire me because I had experience and he didn't?)... I hit the road. It was an ugly scene. He was pissed at me. I was pissed at him. He scammed me out of some hours that I worked... but there wasn't anything I could do, it seemed. I hated the hopeless feeling of having him say, "you'll take this much or you'll get nothing."

Maybe it's wrong of me... but I got the last laugh. His weekly publication turned into a monthly and then it turned into nothing at all. He couldn't keep it going. I like to think it's because he forced out the one guy with experience and the know-how to make it happen (me). But... I guess I'm a little partial about that. :-) (0513)

What's the one thing that links this summer's stint at my newspaper and last summer's work with the defunct football magazine? That funny twinge in my stomach. And that has me worried.

No, it's not indigestion. Or appendicitis. It's my gut reaction. The uncertainty. The worry. The twinge alone isn't enough to make me not do something. And that's good... because sometimes the twinge is just a nervous reaction... and once I get going, it goes away. But it didn't go away last summer. And it's not going away this summer. And that really has me worried. (0517)

I'm bummed, dammit. Jessie came to town Thursday to get the keys to her new pad. I checked it out. It's nice. Not as nice as the place she had... but then again, she's moving from an area with hundreds of thousands of folks to a town with about 10 thousand. You can understand how the housing market is just a smidgen different here.

Anyway, I was hoping she would spend the night instead of driving back to the big city Thursday night. Actually, I would hoping she would spend the night at my house. No, not for anything sexual. Just to have her nearby. I need to talk some of my issues out. She's a good listener. I needed some feedback from her, dammit... and she didn't stick around. She went back to the big city. Later today (Friday), she'll return... but the trip will be 100% dedicated to moving her stuff down here. I want her to myself. I want her to listen to what I have to say. I want her to let me know what she thinks... and what she would do... I'm like the president... I like having advisors give me input... and then I make my own decisions. (Jessie will vouch for this. I only listen to her advice. The final actions I take are usually all my own). (0527)

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