Scratching cause I can

In which our Hero just checks off the boxes so he doesn’t look so dead

Wrote a letter today. Long hand, I mean, cursive, on very pretty, rich paper. I’m going to scan it in a minute, and email it to the recipient. Because I am just that odd.

My handwriting is awful. I see that. I’m trying to teach myself how to write better but it takes time and I’m annoyed that I was never taught how to do it at the start because I’ve missed out on years of practice.

I made a list today too. Somehow I was tasked with making a plan that describes how to activate and deactivate employees joining the new project and I’m not sure just what, if anything, I’m supposed to be doing because *all* of what I’m doing is something that is… organzing the details of the execution of a project task. So it’s kind of like managing a part of the project. Which begs the question, why am I stuck with this crappy work when we have a team of people whose job is it to do this?

Oh yeah, because they’re morons.

(grin)

I have nothing brilliant to say today. I tried to write earlier but it’s been a running battle of a day. At the end of it all… I dunno. Insomnia again, and stress.

Oh. Oh yeah. Get this. The client asked my agent how much it would cost to keep me the last part of the year. I’m a little bit shocked, because there’s no rational way to justify paying my not-cheap rate for the ridiculously small contribution I might make in two or three weeks.

On the other hand, if they want to buy my time, I’m willing to be bought. I’ll sleep when I’m dead. Most likely of sleep deprivation, but you win some, you drink some.