What's he on about now?

In case the articles, essays and opinions throughtout this site just weren't enough for you, here's my online diary (a.k.a. 'blog'). It's as close as you'll come to the inside of my head, so don't say I didn't warn you
(and remember, you can always e-mail me if you love or loathe anything you're about to read)...


   Thursday, April 06, 2006

   THE TILLSONBURG PROPOSAL

No, it's not another 1970's Irwin Allen disaster flick. There's no Steve McQueen or Paul Newman around to rescue me and this week has been one of those rare times when I wish Charleton Heston would show up, waving a gun around. Instead, I'm recovering in the aftermath of my first big project in my new 'adult job' -- the graphic design and editing of a Proposal for consulting services for a hospital in Tillsonburg, ON. I finished printing the 50-page books last night around 9:30 and the courier took all the copies away with him this morning to meet the 2 pm deadline.

If three days of non-stop pressure, computer glitches, late-night headaches and deadlines dropping like dominoes constitute an 'adult job' then get me back to the record store! Sure, as a writer, I've faced all the above (and, as a retail clerk, personal abuse besides) but never before have I worked with hundreds of thousands of dollars at stake. It's a very creepy feeling -- my first taste of why too many Bay Street types seem so soulless. Obviously, the real victors in the business world are the ones who can endure to the finish line without losing their humanity during the struggle. It's the difference between Steve Jobs and Bill Gates (and who do you think is winning?)

Stupidly, I spent my weekend reviewing the software, cleaning house and working at the bookstore. The lack of rest has left me feeling a bit dead inside today but a morning of gentle praise from everyone concerned with the Proposal is keeping me afloat. They all freely acknowledge that I was thrown into the fire on this one but came through it barely singed. It's nice of them to say, especially for the first time out.

Sadly, the real victim here is Darcy, who was forced to babysit my dog last night. I arrived at his place from work at 11 pm(!!) and was greeted with a sour expression. "Oh no," I said, "where'd she poop?" "She didn't," he said, "She was just Puppy of Destruction!" Sigh. We were already disappointed that I wasn't able to come for dinner and watch "Lost" (it's our Wednesday 'thing') and 'the Little Miss' didn't help. Between this and her crapping all through Janet's house a couple Sundays ago, I'm running out of babysitters!

Uh-oh -- it's true: office stress, Proposal meetings, babysitters...I'm an adult!

Labels: oh l'amour