rolanni: (blueyes)

Haircut today; no purple stripes. I still have some purple from the last time.

Also had to call the insurance company that covered us when I worked at the day-job, to let them know that the claim they denied from June of 2010(!) was from a doctor I’ve never seen, and they should straighten out their records.

In the course of that conversation, it came out that I was still listed as an active member of the plan, though Steve was not.

Which meant that I had to call HR at the late, unlamented day-job, and tell them that they needed to remove me from the pool.

Honestly, folks, do I gotta do everything myself?

In other news, the editorial pass through Necessity’s Child is done. The crowd roared! And the author muttered under her breath, ’bout dern time.

For those playing along at home, the score is:

63,134/100,000 words OR 63% complete

For bonus points, and my thanks — I heard a Jackson Browne song on the radio today, and it was not a Jackson Browne song that I believe I’ve ever heard before. It’s lyrics have to do with paying a debt from a bad bet, and also being two men inside — one looking for love, which the other wants to hide.

Anybody got a clue? A title? A pointer?

Originally published at Sharon Lee, Writer. You can comment here or there.

rolanni: (Saving world)
For those of a clerical bent of mind, who live within commuting distance of Waterville, Maine. The pay's not great, but there is group health insurance. All info here
rolanni: (bleedingheart from furriboots)

So! Endeavors of Will and TimeRags II have been uploaded to the Smashfolk.  The score at halftime there being:  8 books in the premium catalog; 17 awaiting Judgement.  In the meantime, the only — did I say ONLY? — book yet to be uploaded is. . .The Tomorrow Log.  Which is going to have to wait a couple days.

The day-job was somewhat horrid today; tomorrow, I have an “exit interview,” whatever that is. One would suppose an exit interview would happen. . .closer to the actual exit, but — apparently not.

In the meantime, and looking ahead, Steve has located my vehicle for me.  On sale, too!

And with that, I’m outta here.  Remember!  This weekend!  in Portland, Maine!  PortConMaine!  Be there, or be Totally UnCool.


Originally published at Sharon Lee, Writer. You can comment here or there.
rolanni: (Illusionist)
We're looking at embracing some near-and-mid-term challenges here at the Cat Farm -- have I mentioned this? 

No, I think I haven't.


First, and most near-term -- the day-job and I will be parting company as of close of bidness on Thursday, July 28.  This is prompted by a whole buncha things, but most pressing is the fact that both of my jobs have been expanding their demands over these last almost-five years, to the point where I had to Choose One, or resign myself to providing diminished performance at both. 

Since I never actually learned how to do a bad job on purpose, the diminished performance option was Right Out, which left Choose One, and, honestly -- there was never a contest.  I'll miss my faculty and various colleagues and acquaintances around the campus, but not as much as I would miss being able to do my art on my terms.

So, once again with the following of the bliss.  Joseph Campbell's got to be right one of these days.

Now, one of the reasons that we can undertake this particular challenge at this time is -- you guys.  That's right -- give yourselves a hand.


Because you've supported our work in the most gratifying and concrete way imaginable -- you bought books.

You bought a lot of books.

Last royalty period (that would've been the royalties paid in October), Fledgling earned out -- that means that we don't owe the publisher any money to pay back the advance; that we get a piece of the action from every book that's sold.  However, Fledgling didn't just earn out -- it earned out handsomely.  Enough so that we could get ahead on mortgage payments and salt away another piece of change, into, like, savings.

This royalty period -- the statements arrived yesterday, accompanied by a check.  This royalty period, Fledgling continued to earn; Saltation earned out, and! (especially near to my heart -- thank you all!)  Mouse and Dragon earned out. 

We got to -- not quite kill, but almost kill -- the Monster Bill that accrued while we were waiting for Meisha Merlin to catch us up on what we were owed. 

Since the day-job is going away, savings becomes living money.

That's a little tight, but doable, if we're careful.  The echapbook sales are moving briskly.  We of course expect that stream to diminish, but hope that it will continue to flow, Steve and I being subscribers to the Every Little Bit Helps school of economics.  We're still working on those stories for subscription, however the mechanism for that finally shakes out -- that's a line from one of those stories-in-the-making, up there in the title bar.

What else?

Short-mid-term challenge -- We still do need to move -- to a smaller place, in a more populated area.  Country living's for you hearty young folk.  I'm holding out for Old Orchard Beach/Saco/Biddeford.  I may have to adjust my sights, but -- not yet.

Oh, and of course, we're back on the Freelancer's Health Plan -- Don't Get Sick -- and what used to be called Major Medical (aka pay all medical expenses unless something Terrible Happens, but have the advantage of paying all medical expenses at the insurer's negotiated rate.  Yes, it's an idiot system, but we love it.  Eh.)  But, to be fair, the day-job's health insurance was headed in that direction, too -- to the point where health insurance coverage was a consideration in decision-making, but not a major consideration.

That's where we are, on this sunny, breezy and green Friday in Maine, and hoping you're as at peace with your world as I am, with mine.


Only twelve more working days 'til school's out.

rolanni: (Dr. Teeth)
Back before there were blonde jokes, there were moron jokes, of which my dad had an endless supply.

One such had to do with two fellows leaving appointments at opposite ends of the city, the plan being to meet at a certain street corner and go on to a third, joint, appointment together. However, time was tight and they acknowledged that they might miss each other, in which case they should each go on separately.

But how to tell if they had, indeed, missed each other?

"I know!" said the first fellow. "If I get there first, I'll make a chalk mark on the light pole."

"Excellent!" exclaimed the second fellow. "And if I get there first -- I'll rub it out!"
rolanni: (Default)

1. Steve is on his way home. Last contact was from “someplace in New York.” First contact was from “above Harrisburg,” and I thought, “Well, he’ll be home in a couple hours, then.” sigh. All these years and I’m still not used to Harrisburg being a loooooong way from home.

2. The auction for the leather-bound edition is live until Sunday-coming! Take a look! Go on, you know you want to…

3. Today’s paycheck from the day-job makes available the news that honest labor pays about $6700 less thus far than setting up as a professional liar. This year, anyhow.

4. Still trying to work the brain down from overdrive. Haven’t had to cope with the full “can’t stop! gotta think!” for…years and years. I wonder if that means that the cpap machine blowing air into my skull is actually, um, working.

. . .and wonders, if so, if that’s what you call your double-edged blade.

5. In service of number 4, above, I’ll be on the couch, reading The Perilous Gard.

Originally published at Sharon Lee, Writer. You can comment here or there.
rolanni: (blackcatmoon)

Slow day at the day-job, waiting for the people who make decisions to make some so I can do what needs done.

Back at home, two more chapbooks compiled and converted (Variations Three, and Changeling: AitLU #6, for those who are counting), leaving me with just six more to compile. So that’s what? Twenty-five, told all. Then we’ll see if I’m tough enough to do The Tomorrow Log.

I have my talk for Thursday night in hand, the Trees of Maine are indulging in their annual spring effort to kill me, and the galleys for Ghost Ship have just landed. I’m guessing those are mine to do, since Steve just finished turning The Crystal Variation galleys (1184 pages of Crystal Soldier, Crystal Dragon, and Balance of Trade) around in truly heroic fashion.

At least Ghost Ship should be the last — no, I’m wrong. The mass market for Mouse and Dragon got added to October’s line-up. So! we’ll be seeing the galleys for that, bye-n-bye.

The fun? Never stops.

And! In celebration of the perseverance of the Trees of Maine, I’m going to go, I dunno — sit on the couch and read.


Originally published at Sharon Lee, Writer. You can comment here or there.
rolanni: (foxy)

Tips for supervising your secretary: If your secretary says she’s confused, she means she’s confused. The fact that you are not confused doesn’t mean that she’s not confused. And it is never, ever, not even if you’re in a really bad mood because someone is being confused about something that’s perfectly clear — it is never OK to respond to a declaration of confusion on the part of the party of the second part with, “You’re not confused,” and/or “This is not confusing.” That’s right up there with those perennial hits, “You’re wrong to feel that way,” and “I’m sorry if your feelings are hurt.”

In the Real World, I compiled and uploaded two more chapbooks this evening: Fellow Travelers: Adventures in the Liaden Universe® Number Two and Necessary Evils: Adventures in the Liaden Universe® Number Ten . They should be arriving at and an near you sometime over the weekend.

Speaking of, both Calamity’s Child and The Cat’s Job are now available. The Cat’s Job presents a little bit of a challenge to find, because I somehow munged the title. I will fix the title, but I can’t do it yet because Amazon Back Room says the book is only “publishing” in which state it cannot be amended, even though it’s actively for sale. You can’t make this stuff up. But! Be assured that once I can make it right, I will.


Show of hands: How many of y’all are really glad it’s Friday?

Originally published at Sharon Lee, Writer. You can comment here or there.

rolanni: (Default)

So, a bad week on at least three fronts, and not looking to get better anytime soon. Gah. Why does life always Happen when we have a book on deadline?

Oh, wait.

Anyhow. One step at a time. Slow and steady wins the race. Not a door closes but a window opens (yeah, says a friend; so you can throw yourself out of it). Inner calm.

I did this evening re-compile a version of Skyblaze without several egregious typos and uploaded the corrected file to both Amazon and BN. No, I don’t know what happens next, or how you get a corrected file.

I also this evening compiled Halfling Moon: Adventures in the Liaden Universe® Number 16 and uploaded it to both the Nook Store and the Kindle Store. I expect the listings will be along sometime this weekend.

And now, because I am Sick to Death of people (it’s nothing personal; I’m an introvert — I get sick to death of people. Being hit on the nose with a newspaper by clueless idiots does not improve this tendency, but I digress.), I am going to be scarce for the weekend. I have a lot of stuff to do that’s not going to do itself (what is with that, exactly?), so I’d best get doing. I’ll be back around on Monday — I mean, I have to go to the day-job on Monday, anyway, so I might as well have something pleasant to balance it out.

What’re you doing this weekend that’s fun?

Originally published at Sharon Lee, Writer. You can comment here or there.

rolanni: (Default)

So! Self-evaluation season at the day-job. That was fun.

Lotsa posters to make, and end-of-year-party planning to do. And Other Stuff. Just when I think I might get a breather, something else rolls in. Despite which, I took fifteen minutes and walked me a round mile up to the toppest-most outdoor point on campus. The breeze was a little cool, but there was sunshine! And alone-time! And, hey, exercise!

I think I know what I’m doing wrong with the whole day-job thing. What I should be doing is walking around campus for seven hours, with a fifteen-minute look-in to the office. Maybe I’ll try that, if tomorrow’s sunny, too.

Mail call at home was a postcard from David Mattingly, announcing the joyous arrival of his book The Digital Matte Painting Handbook, which looks yummy for all you digital painters out there.

For the rest of it — the dishes are done, the bread’s just out of the oven, and I’ve stacked some bills into the Easy Pay line. Tonight, I’m getting to bed before eleven o’clock, s’welp me, or I’ll know the reason why. Not I don’t know the reason why I didn’t get to bed before eleven last night or the night before, but you get my drift. I’m still having more problems than joy with the cpap machine. My counselor is supposed to come by tomorrow afternoon (she got snowed out, last week) and bring me a less intrusive mask, which I hope will be less difficult to accommodate.

In the meantime, between the machine and Mozart, I managed to knock the clock off the side table last night and completely bork its timekeeping and its alarm functions. Luckily, I was drifting awake when the clock struck six this morning, and with a little bit of manic rushing around, I go to the day-job on time.

Note to self: Put the clock on higher ground.

I’m chewing on the next scene of George — the start of Chapter Fourteen, featuring the third and trickiest viewpoint character. I have a good start in notes, but this will be a pivotal scene for this character, and I want to be sure it’s strong enough to bear narrative weight.

That? Means I’m goofing off.

What are you doing this evening?

Originally published at Sharon Lee, Writer. You can comment here or there.

rolanni: (Marvin's not happy)
Tips for supervising secretaries: If you don't want to make the phone call, because you think there's something a little iffy in the proposition, telling your secretary to make the phone call instead is. . .just tacky. Your secretary is not your bullet-proof vest. Also? Your secretary remembers things. Often at inconvenient to you moments. Just sayin'.

Today was the day of the Annual Mammogram, so that was accomplished after work (You've had yours, right? Or scheduled it? If not, go make the appointment. Yes, NOW. I'll wait.).

At home, I made bread, created some small islands of less-than-chaos amid the over-arching disorder, and spent some quality time with Mozart. I did not read George. I did not write. Bad author; no biscuit.

This is not to say that nothing related to writing went forth on the day. The contract for Dragon Ship, George, and Trade Secret arrived, so some bit of time was spent going over it, initialing, signing, and whatnot. That's in an envelope to go back to Madame the Agent tomorrow; also packed up for tomorrow's mail, the corrected pages of Saltation, the mass market edition.

Tomorrow. . .tomorrow comes the counselor, I believe sheorhe is called, from the CPAP provider, who will situate my machine, and teach me its proper care and feeding.

...and the hits just keep on coming.

I hope everyone had a lovely and prosperous Monday. Remember, the week can only get better from here.
rolanni: (dragon)
Bitching and moaning below. If you don't care for that sort of thing, move on.

So, I got a chance to talk to the guy who was chair of the History Department when it was untimely left without a secretary, and who was instrumental in building my day-job description; he's been on sabbatical and today's the first time I've seen him in a good while. He described a very careful and reasoned approach to building the job description, clearly remembered the Department and three programs that the new hire was to serve and firmly rejected the stealth addition of two additional programs as against the spirit of having job description.

This makes me feel somewhat less like an idiot being played for a fish, but long-term it's not going to do a damn' bit of good, Admin having already decided to adopt the Humpty-Dumpty mode -- and besides, that, they own the ball. I'm just really, really tired of waking up every single work day pissed off and ready to break things. Yes, yes, I know: Only I can control my emotions, and if I was a good secretary I would Rise Above and Be Professional. But when the insult is renewed every day. . .


When I grow up, I wanna be a writer. Is that a lot to ask?
rolanni: (Default)

Day job surreal.  Send Winslow Homer.

Headache.  Applied ice cream therapy.

Submitted proposals for two novels.

Packed box for shipping tomorrow*.

Going to go collapse now.


*Pending outcome of this:

Winter Weather Advisory in effect from midnight tonight to 5 PM EST Tuesday…
Snow developing. Snow accumulation of 1 to 3 inches. Lows in the upper 20s. Light and variable winds. Chance of snow near 100 percent.

Snow. Total snow accumulation of 3 to 5 inches. Highs in the mid 30s. Light and variable winds…becoming northwest 10 to 15 mph in the afternoon. Chance of snow near 100 percent.

Originally published at Sharon Lee, Writer. You can comment here or there.

rolanni: (weather)

Well, so.

It’s snowing here, but, then, it’s snowing everywhere.  The weatherbeans are calling fourteen inches on tomorrow’s storm. I guess there’s an inch, inch-and-a-half down now from today’s little effort; fluffy enough that I could sweep what was there away when I got home, and not have to worry about going back out, oh, now to do some more.

The day-job having no snow policy for staff  saving, “Come to work, tho’ Hell should bar the way,” I’ll be depending on Wiser Heads for tomorrow’s plan of action.  If the state police say that only essential personnel should risk their necks in the weather, I will be listening to the nice policeman.  And, no, so not essential personnel.

In the meantime, though I meant to get on with “Intelligent Design” — of which more later — this evening, instead I wound up balancing the checkbook, doing some odds and ends of SRM bookkeeping, and dealing with the mail.

Ah, the mail! Among other items of interest, today’s mail brought a 1099-Misc from Fictionwise for my sales through them last year, totaling a whopping $156.48.  Not going to Vegas on that.

Also of note was the arrival of the W2 from the day-job, which confirms that income from writing (we’re just counting my half, here, right?  That’s fair, innit?) outstripped income from Honest Labor last year.  This year, I fear there will be No Contest. I’ve already had to take so many days without pay, and with the upfront for three novels due in, not to mention the Odd and Unexpected bits of money that wander in from time to time — well.  It wouldn’t be sporting.

The highlight of the day’s mail, however, was — Mr. Timpani, if you would?


The highlight of today’s mail, I say, was the contract for “Intelligent Design.”  And now?

Now it can be told — “Intelligent Design” has been commissioned by Baen and will be appearing on the front page of the Baen website as a free! story! in the merry monthe of mid-July.  And, what’s even cooler, than, yanno, a free Liaden story?

There’s a free story up there right now, by Larry Correia, and there’ll be another one, come mid-February, by another Baen author.  So what you really want to do?  Is bookmark this page, so you won’t miss out on any great free stories from Baen authors.

I think that catches everybody up on the excitement here at the Cat Farm and Confusion Factory.  Everybody stay safe, stay warm, and be careful.

Originally published at Sharon Lee, Writer. You can comment here or there.

rolanni: (Exit Stage Left)
. . .today's version of "Whiskey in the Jar," was brought to me by the Kingston Trio. It may be the. . .most upbeat version I've heard so far, of the many that have come up on Pandora. I guess every folk group on the planet has covered it. I do find it fascinating that the name of the Pretty Maggie Moneyeyes character changes with the singer -- I've heard Sportin' Jenny, Molly, Jenny (no sportin' allowed), for three, and others, I think, but can't recall at the moment.

So, the day-job! The batch of paperwork attending the nearest gaggle of job applicants was finished and distributed today. Go, me! Getting that off my desk was huge. The rest of the near incoming can be done on Monday -- all I need is the finalized schedule from the search chair to cover each packet (already compiled). The guests who are making the tail of the procession are in the scheduling interviewers stage; I'll probably get a burst of email on that topic Tuesday, when everyone's back from "break."

What the above means is that I could actually start doing some of the prep I need to have done by the time Spring semester starts -- on Wednesday. Nothing like split second timing, says I.

Anyhow, what with all that excitement, I was done in by the time I got home. Finished up some bookkeeping here before it ate my desk, but no writing is happening tonight.

Sigh. If writers are people who live by their wit, I gotta get a new set of wits.

So, here's the plan -- this weekend, I'm working on "Intelligent Design."

What're you doing?
rolanni: (Marvin's not happy)

Day-job continues to be a stern chase. Got in and spent the usual 20 minutes reseating the usb connections from my keyboard and trackball into Mac so I could actually do my work. Sigh. It was 65F/18C in my office this morning when I arrived. I fear Mac likes the cold even less than he liked the extreme heat of summer.

After my computer was working, I got into sorting piles of stuff into piles of stuff that actually have something to do with each other. I made two — or was it three? — job talk posters. I started setting up interviews for the last set of three candidates, made photocopies and sorted them into their own piles; set up limo appointments, took in and processed a cool half-dozen electronic applications for the late-breaking surprise! search.

I’m still missing the whole “easy” part of that last. I can see that it might look easier to them what has no idea of the process and are distressed by huge stacks of file boxes reminding them that someone had to handle and process all that paper. But I’m not actually finding it easier to do. In fact, it seems to add about three steps to what I used to do.

At home, I managed to do a little bit of actual work — about 500 words on “Intelligent Design,” — which was like pulling hen’s teeth. Definitely looking forward to the weekend and having an attention span to bring to this story.

And, yes, as those of the cognescenti knew immediately upon looking at the title of today’s post — today’s earworm is “Electric Avenue.” I blame Pandora, which for some reason decided that I needed to listen to a string of old Motown.

Onward. But not right now.

Progress on “Intelligent Design”
1,731 out of 10,000 words OR 17.3% complete

Originally published at Sharon Lee, Writer. You can comment here or there.
rolanni: (blackcatmoon)


I sometimes think I ought to write a non-fiction book about the day-job.

And then I think, “Nah. Nobody’d believe you.”

It snowed today, very prettily, but to no great effect.  Forecasts are for a maximum of three inches accumulation.  Still, we ought now to have snow on the ground for the holiday.

I didn’t write nearly so many words this evening, given various horrifying stupidities elsewhere, but I’m pleased with the words I did write, and some forward motion is better than none.

Progress on The Book Presently Known as George:
11,822 words/100,000 OR 11.82% complete

“It happens that I was working, but I must claim you for my rescue, for I believe I have been working far too long this day.” That style was a little forward of his current ability, she thought — but see what he made of it.

Originally published at Sharon Lee, Writer. You can comment here or there.

rolanni: (blackcatmoon)

Only fourteen more workdays until Winter Break.

I can do this.

Cool Things I Forgot to Mention:

Wednesday, I missed my turn when taking the Second Alternate Route to work, and took thereby the Third, which involves going first to China, and then coming back in several miles to Waterville.  Not optimum, though a pretty drive of itself, and a pretty day for it.

While I was mooching along the wrong road, heading in A Direction Oblique to Where I Needed to Be by Eight O’Clock, thinking about George, and being Not Nearly as Panicked As Was Proper, a pileated woodpecker flew across the road at windshield-on-a-Legacy-height barely two feet ahead of me, and attached itself to a big old maple tree.  I adore pileated woodpeckers — the battle cruisers of the woodpecker world — so that made the morning right there.

* * *


Today, there were only six applications to input, which made my hands grateful.  Due to having stayed caught up, though, I did have a period of a couple hours where I had no work to do — I had emails and calls out to people, but could not go forward until I heard back from them.  So, I read a book.  The trouble is, I’m getting paranoid about reading when I ‘m in Wait Mode, since this apparently feeds into the perception that Rolanni Never Has Any Work To Do.

Sigh.  Maybe I should play chess on the internet; at least then I’d look busy.

* * *

Fans of Hexapuma:

Yep, we have a cat fountain, and Hex is its biggest fan.  We’re going to try the wet food and vitamins, and have another vet visit on the 13th to see how that’s working for him.  Giving subcutaneous fluids was mentioned as a therapy — I’d need a refresher in how to administer, but Patia required that intervention in her later years, and we handled it.  I’ll have to look into the kidney function cat food.  The problem, of course, being that we have two other cats and all of them are used to browsing.

I’m am sad because it looks pretty certain that Hex isn’t going to be with us for the years and years we had supposed that he would be (we tend to keep our cats around for a long time, here at the Cat Farm), but I’m trying to focus on the fact that we have him with us now.

* * *

Carousel Tides

There’s a review of Carousel Tides at SFRevu

Someone had mentioned the Open Promotion Thread at Whatever today — yes, I did participate.

For those who did not know about this — go here.  Lots and lots of good readin’ being recommended.

* * *

Couple Hours of Fame:

Don’t forget!  Lee and Miller will be signing atthe Barnes and Noble in the Augusta Marketplace tomorrow, Saturday, December 4, starting at 1 p.m.  Be there, or be somewhere else!

* * *


Lots of thinking, but no actual Words on the Page for George today — which is just about right for this stage in the proceedings.

* * *

Cat Porn:

Mozart is asleep in my the his rocking chair.

He’s snoring.

* * *


Originally published at Sharon Lee, Writer. You can comment here or there.
rolanni: (agatha&clank)
. . .not that I'm counting.

Took pictures of Application Mountain, there at the day-job. My, that's some stack of file boxes. It may be that the worst of the data entry is over. I'd cross my fingers if they'd bend that far, but since they don't, somebody out there please do it for me. There are still two searches yet to reach their deadlines, but they are by their nature "small" searches -- maybe another 50 applications to input and file between them -- so that's all good.

Next step, after the various committees have done their work: threading the logistics of bringing (counts on fingers) nine-to-fifteen job applicants to campus and setting them up with individual faculty meetings, official dinners and the means to deliver presentations (aka "job talks"). So much for there being no work to do in January.

Having dropped the Hexacat off at the vet's office on my way in to work, I met Steve there on the way home, and we both heard the results of the tests, which is. . .

Kidney failure.

. . .which isn't as dire as it sounds, what with that "failure" thing in there. The vet did admit that, "if he was a person," Hex would be in line for a kidney transplant, but, as it is, we have some meds to give him, and we need to find more ways to bring liquid into his life, which means Hexapuma discovering the joys of wet food. Maybe even wet food with a tiny dash of salt. This will be Puma's Extra Treat, so he'll also be able to hold his Certified Specialness over Mozart and Scrabble, which will cork them off no end.

I make that win-win-win, in the Coon Cat Official Scoring System(tm)

I fear there will be no work on George this evening; there are dishes to wash and I'm kinda washed out my own self. Early to bed -- that's the ticket.

And, yeah, early to rise.

Everybody have a good evening.
rolanni: (blackcatmoon)

Oh, let’s see. . .the day-job. The less said on that head, I think, the better. On to pleasanter things, like –

The arrival of a royalty check! Yes! Royalty check! Not, I’m sorry to say, for Duianfey, nor for Longeye, neither of which has earned out — but Fledgling has.

Honestly, that kid. . .

What else? Did the dishes, took out the trash, opened up George’s file, meaning to write “a page” — that’s about 250 words, for those who count.

Wound up with a little more than five pages, finishing up a scene and a chapter. Not too bad on the day.

Tomorrow, alas, it’s back to the day-job and the damned data entry. A colleague suggested that I take a picture of the fruits of my labors, to include in my self-evaluation at merit report time. I can take the picture, but I’m pretty sure that no one who is actually in a position to do something about merit raises is going to understand what the picture means in terms of pure, physical labor.

. . .I once — no, I’m wrong — I twice left jobs where the ex-boss had to hire two women to replace me.

You take your black humor where you find it.

Progress on The Book Presently Known as George:
3,528 words/100,000 OR 3.53% complete

Originally published at Sharon Lee, Writer. You can comment here or there.

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