friday jones’ diary

(originally posted on Sept. 4, 2006)

sat 8/26: help J&B move into cute new home on 5 wooded acres; despite supposedly being on diet, consume non-diet soda, two pizza slices and a cookie. Feel guilty.

sun 8/27: spend entire day, from 7:00AM to early evening, performing inglorious mundane tasks for Free State Project, in between periodic bouts of dribbling saliva into test tubes for adrenal function lab test.  Read oh-so-serious discussion on FSP mailing list about need for “Leadership Institute” and paying for volunteers to have leadership training. Compose humorous reply asking if this means FSP will pay for my court-ordered anger management classes, then don’t send as fear would not be understood as a joke.

mon 8/28: receive email from Project Manager D. informing me that he expects to receive training schedule for client T by next Wednesday. Respond briskly that am already scheduled to work all week and all of 3-day weekend for Project Manager P and client N, please confirm is expecting training schedule by Wednesday?  Do not hear back. Fear am perceived as “not team player”.

tues 8/29: waste evening watching lousy movie “The Quick and the Dead”.  Observe that, while Gene Hackman is probably the greatest film actor alive, Sharon Stone, who undoubtedly makes hundreds of times more than me, cannot act way out of paper bag.

wed 8/30 8:15AM: root canal.  Am thrilled to receive prescription for Vicodin afterwards.  Consider feasibility of selling on black market for pocket cash.

thurs 8/31: weekend work schedule changes again.  Meanwhile, receive phone calls and emails from assorted Free Staters absolutely shocked (SHOCKED!) that I would have the temerity to cancel the September MVP meeting on account of both my own work schedule, and the fact that the scheduled speaker had just spent a week in the hospital.  Wonder if possible to win.  Seriously doubt.

fri 9/1: Note that, after maxing out annual allotment of dental insurance and shelling out an additional few hundred dollars for root canal, thus utterly blowing budget for month (having already paid for 30,000 mile tuneup, which of course cost 25% more than price displayed on big sign in front of store), bum tooth feels exactly the same.  Contemplate the need to pay more to have crown repaired within two months, or root canal is no longer “guaranteed”.  Contemplate the lunacy of “warranty” on fake tooth.  Next time will just use pliers. Eat two pieces of coworker’s going away cake. Feel guilty.  Really good cake, though.

sat 9/2: morning weigh-in reveals I am now fatter than I’ve ever been.  Stand morosely before full-length mirror, examining profile.  Now look pregnant, only without the sex.  Wonder if love life is over.

Spend day cleaning apartment, transferring credit card balances, and replying to FSP-related emails while feeling guilty for not replying to more faster.  Cannot go anywhere as am on call for work.  Estimate that will pay off college debt about the time when menopause begins. Report to work at 5:00PM, along with rest of team.  Co-owner of company declines to spring for doughnuts, pizza or anything else.  As low man on totem pole, fetch everyone’s supper from Quizno’s.  Coffee machine is out of cocoa!!!  Forget to remove carrot from lunch sack prior to placing meal in freezer; when retrieve carrot at 3:00AM, is coated with ice and hard as steel.  Contemplate impaling self with frozen carrot.  Contemplate impaling disgustingly skinny (despite giving birth only a year ago) supervisor as well as self.  Am forced to gnaw on a Red Vine to maintain requisite blood sugar level for geek work.  Head home at 3:45AM.

sun 9/3:  Start day feeling fine, content in the knowledge that have two day-job-free days.  Respond to more FSP emails.  Note that, as soon as one is replied to, five more appear in inbox.  Feel like hamster in wheel.  A FAT hamster.

Momentary spurt of energy dissipates and am left too exhausted to make any productive use of day.  Raining heavily.  Wonder what sort of nutritional deficiency results in unholy craving for fig newtons? Contemplate that entire life has now become nothing more than work, political activism, and helping married friends move into houses I can’t afford. Waste afternoon watching romantic movies and second-guessing life choices.  Glare at stacks of unopened moving boxes in living room.  Toy with idea of doing some unpacking, then toy with idea of using utility knife on wrists rather than moving boxes.  Try to remember which episode of Firefly specifies how many seconds it takes to drain the human body of blood.  Quickly decide cat is much too sweet to be left to die of thirst in apartment while I decompose.  Watch Before Sunset again, noting darkly that not only is Julie Delpy talented and beautiful, she can sing and play guitar. Pass out 8ish, surrounded by empty wine bottles, Papagino’s boxes, soiled Kleenex and fig newton wrappers.

Am awakened at 11:30PM by skinny supervisor. Discover that I slept right through a call from Project Manager P, 2 hours earlier.  Can I help resolve critical issues?  Power up laptop and work until 2:30AM. Note with embarrassment that someone, probably PM, has misspelled “Manhattan” in client’s production instance.

mon 9/4: Am awakened at 6:30Am by phone call from PM, asking question to which I don’t know answer.  Wonder how quickly I will go mad if only allowed 4 hours sleep a night by employer?  Go back to sleep, have disturbing dream about dead grandmother giving me a manicure.  Also dream about moving away without telling employer.

Early afternoon, decide to swallow pride, go to mall and buy business casual clothing in fat sizes.  Am scheduled to work face-to-face with client T for next 3 weeks, and can no longer fit into majority of wardrobe.  Before I can leave house, am called again by PM P, asking if I can help resolve another critical issue?  Now have only 10 minutes of juice left on laptop battery, as skinny supervisor had assured me that she would handle critical issues and had therefore not bothered to bring power adapter home.  Forced to go back to office. Am alone in office on national holiday.  Frozen carrot left on desk is now black and decidedly unappetizing-looking. Contemplate buying cigarettes. Spend afternoon suffering through excruciatingly slow connection, resulting in very little accomplished. Will probably be perceived as slow and dense by PM and co-owner. Am allowed to go home at 6:00PM. Mall is now closed, meaning I will be forced to work with client T naked. FAT and naked. With bangs in eyes as also did not have time to get required trim.

Spend evening consoling self with pint of Ben and Jerry’s and top 3 film Brazil, taking comfort in fact that, no matter how bad my life may get, at least I am not being tortured to insanity by old college mate. Resolve to do nothing work or FSP-related next weekend. Will see Doug Stanhope in Worcester. Will attend Hampton Beach Seafood Festival, thereby getting in one trip to the beach before summer officially ends. Will finally try fried dough, the official state junk food of New Hampshire.  Will return to face bitchy client and hundreds of FSP emails refreshed and momentarily happy.

*any similarities between this blog entry and the fictional works of Helen Fielding are entirely coincidental

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