Tuesday, June 12, 2012

Killer on the road

In the mornings I work as a receptionist.  I like the job it is not stressful and it gives me plenty of time for my passion which is writing and the sludge job helps pay the bills.

I use a freelance website to source writing work.  I have become picky about the work I do.  I no longer take on topics that I find extremely boring and I chose work that pays reasonably.  When I was starting out I took on a job that paid 5 dollars and took me two weeks to do simply to gain experience.   I earn more than 5 dollars an hour with my morning job but it was worth it to build up a freelancing reputation.  Michael teased me a lot about the 5 dollar job and for a while he referred to  me as “slave labour”. 
When you do freelance work you have happy jobs where you do the job hand over the work and the people pay you.  Wham Bam, thank you Mam.

But then you get the other fuckers.

In the final stages of writing a report for a client the day before submitting it to him, he asks me for my basic layout so that if I am going in the wrong direction he can I quote, “save time”

Now I am picturing myself slamming his head against a brick wall.

I don’t have a clue what he looks like but my imagination has made him hideously ugly.
I wrote him a polite message pointing out that a week ago submitting my outline would have been beneficial but a day from completion it is not. 
What I really wanted to say was:
What the fuck are you on?

Now in my mind there is blood everywhere.
And I have this Door’s lyric stuck in my head:

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