I hate it when people ask what I have working on at the moment so they can dump some other random job on me.
They’ll start by asking, “What do you have on your side today?” And I won’t be able to answer. Do I say, “I have Operation Cheeseburger due tomorrow” and stop there? Because knowing what’s coming, I definitely WILL not have just Operation Cheeseburger on my plate (no pun intended). Pretty soon, they’ll come back to me to proofread, do copy amendments, write copy with no briefs or even something I had no prior knowledge about. Or maybe there’ll be a complete rewrite of what I had just completed. I’m not saying thay I suck, but sometimes it involves some whole cosmic thing going on like planets aligning, ya know?
And I’m ALWAYS proofreading. New regulations. Before sending mocks over to the client, gotta copy check. They don’t know know time consuming proofreading can be. They think oh hey, just read through and see if it sounds right and bingo we can print it. NO. It never works that way. Everytime I proofread, I still see mistakes cropping up here and there. Oh, the designer forgot to use the latest copy. Oh, wrong picture attached to description. Oh, wrong price. Oh, colossal fuckup, have to redo the layout. I always have to cross-check using the latest copysheet I have and amend from there. So I ABSOLUTELY HATE IT, HATE IT HATE IT HATE IT HATE IT, when they ping me too often to ask if I’m done checking. “Are you done checking?” “Are you done checking?” “Have you gone through the copy?” My eyes also bleeding already la.
I wanna stab somebody’s eye out.
A pet peeve of mine is when people say “Literally” when they are far from it. For example “That literally scared the shit out of me!” Literally? Really? Maybe you shouldn’t be sitting on my couch.
I’ve got so much to say but I don’t know where to start.
I don’t know if I’m doing the right thing, heading the right way. I don’t even know if I started off right. Why is that? I haven’t even asked. I’m afraid to ask why and so I’m putting it off. Maybe after a month and see how it goes, I’ll think. Then the seasons pass and I’ll still be stuck in the same rut, rotting in the same hole and wondering where I’ve gone wrong.
My face is a mess. I don’t know what triggered all the sudden breakouts and I’m tired of looking at skincare ads and thinking when on earth can I get skin so clear, so smooth that I don’t need makeup. I need a skincare regime. That’s as far as I’ve planned out. That and drinking lots and lots of water. Gallons of it, tanks of it, just hose me down with H2O and I’ll be happy as a lark and bloated as a pufferfish. Coffee is off the list too. I think the sudden onslaught of pimples were brought on by my spontaneous change of diet. I’ll give it a month. See? It’s happening again. A month.
I don’t know what went wrong and I’m tired of being the same old me. I’m gonna dye my hair by the weekend or summat. Get a trim.
A trim. Which reminds me of a downright amusing conversation I heard in the lift. I was sandwiched between two 30 something women in the lift heading down when one of them lifted up her right hand, gestured with her two fingers in a snipping motion and told her colleague, “Remember to trim your bonsai.” And then she repeated it again. “Trim your bonsai.” My creative head was in front of me, silently bowing his head and shaking in spasms. I wasn’t faring any better. I was chuckling while pretending to be in a decent conversation with another colleague. And it got worse. “Cannot watch TV while trimming la.” “I remember it was flowering already.” I tell you, I was DYING for the lift doors to open so I can start laughing like an idiot with a screw loose.