RIP-TVRIP-TVRIP-TVRIP-TV
RIP-TVRIP-TVRIP-TVRIP-TV
RIP-TVRIP-TVRIP-TVRIP-TV
RIP-TVRIP-TVRIP-TVRIP-TV
2001-02-28
I am so tired of the way I am living that I am tired of my own neck. The way it feels�the too-familiar tensions of course but also the way these same sweaters and vests day after day and this raggedy scarf hang in bunches where I would rather feel a loving hand�it�s just something I would like to walk away from, just like an annoying voice.
Things are a little hectic on the luxe marketing front these days�all this talk of recession has the advertisers jumpy, which means they refuse more magazine advertising proposals than usual, which means that I have to write more. Which I do, at this desk, when I�m not creating editorial content out of press releases which I receive by fax and then regurgitate in magazine prose. An acquaintance of my sister�s who works for a big magazine group tells her I should be making more for this work than I currently do; but she was with my sister l�autre nuit at their friend Jackie�s birthday soiree and unfortunately got knocked down by a delivery truck on her way home, so I can�t contact her for awhile about other job opportunities.
Anyway, every day night falls, and I �switch over� to my real life, which used to be writing literature, but which is now writing here, for the most part�I share my workspace with the apartment�s only TV so it's quite hard do both. For instance, I just now had to see for myself that the bald fool on Temptation Island took his carrot top lady fool back, couldn�t wait to read that on Salon, no sirree.
My point is this. I would like an employee�someone quiet, whom I could train to come in and write simple advertising proposals at my desk for two or three hours a day, while I do other things�a home office apprentice; someone seeking work at home, but not yet qualified to get it.