Resigned! a la Prisoner

So I quit the paper. It's what I've wanted to do almost from the beginning, but its one of those sittuations where either way I would have felt like I lost. Jenna and I had a conversation on Wednesday (comic books) about the story due Friday (Indian food) that I thought was crystal clear, but apparently she said the wrong thing or I understood the wrong thing, b/c actually the comic book thing was due next Wed and the indian food thing this Wed, and so I caught a lot of shit for it, and a job where I'm mostly catching shit and doing ass loads of work without great pay is a job I'm not interested in. Aaaaaaahhhhhhhh. Wost sittuation ever. I hate deadlines like woah.

I mean, at least it's over, and I can go back to having some semblence of a life, free myself up for a second job, take that Sunday class with Rabbi Portman that I wanted to, and be able to travel on weekends, which is so important to me. But my dad is going to miss reading my stuff, and Jenna's going to be all pissy. I mean, this is best for me, and it sort of frees me up for actual writing projects rather than random slavish devotion to four arts stories a week, but I still hate quitting anything.

And I loathed, hated, despised those constant whining emails and phone calls and bitchings and meetings where NOTHING important to me happened. I really did. Bah. Everything I try to do/Nothing seems to turn out right.

Resigned! a la Prisoner

So I quit the paper. It's what I've wanted to do almost from the beginning, but its one of those sittuations where either way I would have felt like I lost. Jenna and I had a conversation on Wednesday (comic books) about the story due Friday (Indian food) that I thought was crystal clear, but apparently she said the wrong thing or I understood the wrong thing, b/c actually the comic book thing was due next Wed and the indian food thing this Wed, and so I caught a lot of shit for it, and a job where I'm mostly catching shit and doing ass loads of work without great pay is a job I'm not interested in. Aaaaaaahhhhhhhh. Wost sittuation ever. I hate deadlines like woah.

I mean, at least it's over, and I can go back to having some semblence of a life, free myself up for a second job, take that Sunday class with Rabbi Portman that I wanted to, and be able to travel on weekends, which is so important to me. But my dad is going to miss reading my stuff, and Jenna's going to be all pissy. I mean, this is best for me, and it sort of frees me up for actual writing projects rather than random slavish devotion to four arts stories a week, but I still hate quitting anything.

And I loathed, hated, despised those constant whining emails and phone calls and bitchings and meetings where NOTHING important to me happened. I really did. Bah. Everything I try to do/Nothing seems to turn out right.