that blown-off feeling is so sensate.

yesterday, i got a late-day message from one of the agencies that represents me regarding a paltry two-day production contract that was brought to my attention late last week. this two-day gig was a consolation to two distinctly better, longer and higher-paying contracts that had just been posted that day on their Web site.

this is the agency with whom i’ve been a part of since 1999. except for an art buyer assignment last December which lasted a week, i’ve seen nothing from them since i was still living in Minneapolis in October 2001.

however, those other two assignments were for naught, despite their fresh posting — one had already been filled, while the other had been put on hold.

* * *

here’s where today falls apart.

i’d planned to get up around 8:30am to follow up and phone back my regular point person at that agency regarding the possible on-hold status of the two-day production role. then, sparkle_vixen decided impromptu this morning that she was taking a personal day from work, which i knew meant everything was going to fall completely out of whack.

while i love hanging with her, there are times when i anticipate solo time, permitting me the chance to get some work done. while she’s at work is one of those times, because as soon as she gets home, she constantly wants me to do stuff with her, asking me every fifteen minutes whether i wanna take a walk with her, or if i’m willing to go shopping, watch a movie or telly with her or whatever.

however, because she chose to stay home this morning, do laundry, dish-washing and watch movies on the telly, my rhythm completely unravelled for today. external morning activity makes it very hard for me to sleep, and the last couple of hours in my sleep cycle are arguably the most critical to whether or not the day will go smoothly or like shit.

so, i overslept through two alarms, whee. so much for phoning the agency back early, on my terms, to assess what options i had in the next several days and weeks. i wanted to have the upper hand here, dammit.

just after i woke up and was walking to my system to go online, she wanted me to stay offline so that she could phone her friend to go out and do some window shopping later. meanwhile, here she is watching a Star Wars movie when the phone rings.

i’m still waking up, and it’s the agency. but not my regular point person.

rather, it was her assistant — her lackey, even — reiterating pretty much what her lead told me yesterday. based on the hesitation and tone in her voice, i could tell that she was completely bullshitting me. it’s SO GODDAMN APPARENT, folks.

it’s amazing. finally, after seven years, i can tell the difference between someone being honest with me in HR-speak and when they’re stringing me along like popcorn on a fir tree.

but goddamn it, people, why did you go through all this trouble to let me know a paltry two-day, $20-an-hour production art contract (which anyone on their roster i’m sure could do, even non-graphic artists, for Joss Whedon’s sake) was being put on hold and possibly scuttled when that’s something you’d do for something a little more significant, such as that two to three-week assignment i originally spoke with interest, designing, coding and implementing a Web site for about $36 an hour, dammit?

my whole day is now completely caddywumpus, dude. sparkle_vixen doesn’t quite seem to understand why i’m upset by this. i function best when she isn’t wanting my undivided attention while i’m trying to work, and if she expects me to get upright and gainful ever again, i’m going to need that support from her.

otherwise, i’ll languish in unemployable, confidence-debilitating hell out here on the edge of nothingness. besides, i know she’s sick of being the main and sole breadwinner, just as much as i’m tired of wondering how i’m going to secure my storage space back in Minnesota and pay for my maintenance meds which handle my PCOS-like symptoms, all with prescriptions which are about to run out.

oh, yay.

4 Responses to "that blown-off feeling is so sensate."

typenik says:
Tuesday, 8 July 2003 at 13:25:24
Placement agencies are the worst. I worked through one back in ’93 when I was first out of school, and got a lot of very short-term assignments doing very boring production tasks. The worst had to be a one-day assignment in the near southwest suburbs, that I wound up paying more than I made working there for the day to get to by cab, seeing that it wasn’t transit-accesible. I called them back and chewed them out about that, since I had explained my transit situation to them. They relented and comped most of the cab fee by bumping my rate up.
The longest placement I got through them was with Monkey Ward doing those horrible circulars you see in the Sunday paper. Brr. I knew after a week that I couldn’t take it there, with the non-stop muzak, piddly workflow and “no working on your own stuff, even if we don’t have work for you to do” policy, a crusty supervisor who seemed more interested in dying than design and constantly took the other placement employee into the stairwell to yell at him for screwing things up. This was only a tiny corner of an entire maze of cubicles where this crap was going on in other degrees too. It truly was a descent into corporate hell of Dilbert-esque proportions.
I just decided not to go in the following week and acted like the client had goofed up by not telling me they wanted to keep me on past the week (which they honestly *hadn’t*). They paid me pretty well, but the environment was absolutely stultifying, to the point where I wouldnt go back, even if I were starving and really needed the money. I found out that MW was their biggest client, and kinda knew at that point I needed to find something else, and fast.
Things eventually worked out in the long run, but it wasn’t pretty in-between, for certain. :P
I know how hard it can be not to have time and space of your own when you need it too. I face that problem a lot of the time because BF works at home and is almost always there and wanting attention the minute I walk in the door. It’s hard, ’cause somedays, I’m so drained from dealing with the grind that just don’t have that energy to give.
I know it’s hard, but keep at it. :)
wohali says:
Tuesday, 8 July 2003 at 17:15:42
No comments, other than the fact that (without invalidating the veracity of this story) the more of a chip you have on your shoulder, the more likely it is you will induce antagonistic behavior in your compatriots. Or, to put it another way, pretend you don’t hear being blown off, and it won’t bother you. Or something like that.
The most I can offer is hugs….
1. Astrid says:
  Tuesday, 8 July 2003 at 17:29:07
  even with the most patient souls, patience cannnot exist infinitely.
  are you suggesting that i carry a chip on my shoulder with regard to my career?
  pretending it doesn’t affect you works for only so long, but not as long as twenty months — especially when you are next to losing what little else you have left after dogged, extended efforts in trying to stave off the worst.
  they don’t know that i’m feeling suspicious, but perhaps they should know that my confidence with them in a professional standing is pretty shaky right now. i can’t afford to be led on with really bad consolations that end up being “cancelled” altogether. perhaps this is something utterly foreign to your body of experience, and if so, bear in mind that the reality i face is no less valid than of one whom is secure, safe, imbued with professional purpose (remunerated with a salary and maybe even benefits) and not in direct threat of losing access to medical maintenance needs, the remaining few items of substance in your possession and losing any hope at lifting out of zeropoint.
2. wohali says:
  Tuesday, 8 July 2003 at 22:12:15
  Release your anger elsewhere, then resume being patient with those who need patience.
  You know full well that I tend to be conflict-averse; all I’m suggesting is that even when you don’t intend for them to pick up on your suspiciousness, they will, despite your best efforts to the contrary.
  And this is not foreign to my body of experience. I’m getting a bit frustrated that, at every turn, you seem to villainize me as someone of privilege, someone who can’t relate to the hard knocks you’ve experienced due to an overly sheltered existence. Just because I have not chosen to share the details of that part of my life with you does not mean that they never existed, nor that I cannot have experienced similar depths of despair, nor even that believe others have less valid realities than my own.
  Yes, my viewpoint is naturally tempered by the fact that I have, indeed, survived, and am therefore looking at this with hindsight. But that makes my point no less valid. (I might also add that you too have survived against incredible odds.) Negative energy held about someone in your consciousness will leak out towards whoever you hold it towards, get amplified and put back on you. Faith does work after 20 months. It will work after 70 years, too. Give me a new argument as to why it won’t work for you.

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