There’s Always Later!: A Tale of a Procrastinating Writer

**WARNING**

If you have to get ANYTHING done today DO NOT READ THIS ENTRY.
Pay your bills, write your words, call your mom and bathe THEN read this entry.

Don’t worry, I’ll wait.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

Seriously, you’re gonna regret not having clean clothes

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

No, really, make sure there’s food for dinner

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

READY? OKAY!

Procrastination, you slippery temptress, you.  It’s amazing how you can make literally EVERYTHING more appealing.

I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but it’s been kinda like this around here:

And I blame you, internets.

The internet and procrastination are in cahoots with one another.  I think they get together and laugh about how much time they are capable of sucking away from a person’s day.

I think their conversations go a little like this:

Izzy Internet: What up!

Porche-Crastination: Totally made this guy later for a deadline today

Izzy Internet: No way!  I convinced this girl that it was more important to look at cute kitties than do her homework.  Couldn’t have done it without you!

Porche-Crastination: Couldn’t have done it without YOU!

Izzy-Internet: I know it! ::high fives::

That’s kind of what happened to me.  A lot of life lessons were learned.  There was sometimes laughter, sometimes tears, and sometimes there was even a nice underscore of canned music that made me feel like I was on a reality tv show.

But there was definitely no writing.

Below is a list of things I learned during the time I wasn’t writing.  It’s all right to be impressed. I know I am not.

Getting Inspiration

aka StumbleUpon.com.

The Argument:

It’s too cold to go outside, so I convince myself if I continually click the StumbleUpon button in a controlled manner, I will surely receive the proper amount of inspiration that will help me write my blog  get all my writing projects done.

The Reality

That’s not gonna happen.

A picture of this tiger, while epic, is not that inspiring for your project about nightmares on the subway. It’s kind of the opposite.

Also, sometimes it sends me to links like this  and then I get kinda paranoid because I’m pretty sure I’ll never be allowed to step foot in North Dakota again.

I discovered something, though.  There’s a reason their logo looks the way it does. 

Bee tee dubs, guys, if you have a stumbleupon account and wanted to, I dunno, Like this blog so that people can be schooled about the dangers of using stumbleupon, I think that would be the opposite of procrastination.

The Art of Communication

aka Twitter.

The Argument:

Language is hard, yo.  It’s like madd difficult to express words to one another. Which is why I tell myself I need to be on twitter ALL THE TIME (@RegectedRiter, all, Follow me!).  If I wasn’t on, how would I ever learn how to communicate effectively with other people?  By conversing with them on the street?

I don’t think so.

The Reality:

He looks so innocent.
It’s that adorable innocence that drags you in.  And then pretty soon you’re caught up in three conversations at once about Zombies, Writing and  coffee vs. tea.  And then everything you write is like this:

@pr0crastiNation What’s up! #TodayIDidn’tDoAnything

@RegectedRiter #LOL I totally know #PWNED!

@pr0crastiNation I don’t appreciate that #NotAmused

@RegectedRiter Watevs, click this awesome link and lose hours of your life

@pr0crastiNation Sorry for the late reply, I just spent ten hours reading articles about #DisneyMovies #MyLife

The Art of Networking

aka facebook.com

The Argument:

Imma just step onto here for like five minutes to write an important work related message on my friend’s wall. I am positive that the networking will provide invaluable opportunities

The Reality:

Three hours later, you are in a bejewelled blitz coma, knee deep in a debate about the latest semi-political anything that you didn’t really care about before you saw a post. Drool might be happening.

For those of you who don’t know what Bewjeweled Blitz is, it’s a little game that looks a little something like this:

Well, that’s the end of the post.  I really have nothing more to say.  Hopefully you haven’t gotten sucked into the etherworld of the internet and were able to stay with me to the bitter end, but I’ll understand if you went to youtube.

So, what’s your favorite way to procrastinate? I wants to know!

Also, don’t be afraid of clicking the links, I promise nothing offensive will pop up.  Unless you’re offended by laughter, then maybe you should just not do that.

Happy writing!

AG

Why I Regected My Job: The Final Installment

And unlike Rocky, Indiana Jones and Sister Act, this shall, indeed, be the final installment in the trilogy that is Why I Left My Job in this Bitter Economy.

When we last left off, AG was to be locked in a room for two weeks, doing a job I didn’t quite understand with a woman who was offended by good hygiene and believed that life was too short to not change her mind every five minutes.

Now guys.  I don’t know if you know this about me, but I’m generally like this:

My boss was more like this:

Only older.

(Don’t worry, all, I doctored that.  Even Cruella Deville isn’t as nasty as my boss was and she wanted to make a coat out of puppies.  Let that sink  in for a minute.)

So my boss and I got through some stuff together.  Namely the East Coast Earthquake of 2011:

And Hurricane Irene:

(WARNING: Flash of Genitalia will happen).

And things were OVERWHELMINGLY busy but I was keeping up with things, doing my job and the other guy’s job AND juggling my boss’ mind changing/odd sense of prioritizing and I felt like A BOSS.  Not like my boss but A Boss.  You know?

I think you do.

But I was doing it, all.  The one thing that my boss never wanted me to do. I was MAKING MISTAKES.

Again, these were not earth shattering mistakes (honestly, the east coast earthquake was bigger than the mistakes I made), but I was clearly offending my boss.  But I kept trying.

So during that time, I heard from my boss that it was going to be my boss’ 85th birthday.  I heard this because we were in a tiny room and my boss was making birthday plans NONSTOP and then had to rearrange all of them for Hurricane Irene.  So I thought Hey. You know, turning 85 is a good thing and I’m one to do something for a person’s birthday if I know about it, so I got her a small plant the day of her birthday. And she was actually very happy with it and touched and she smiled at me and her face cracked in half I thought wow, we made it through the metaphorical AND physical storm.  Maybe we’ll be okay.

LIES.

Because about 2.5 minutes later, guess what happened.

Me: Where’s the white out?

Boss: Why do you need white out?

Me: I mislabeled something.

Boss: You did what?

Me: Do we not have white out?

Boss: WHY ARE YOU SO INCREDIABLY INCOMPETENT?!

Me: ….Excuse me?

Boss: You literally can’t do ANYTHING right-

I’m going to save you from the tirade. All you need to know is my face went from this:

to this

Nothing I do is right.

That went on for a half an hour.
Don’t worry, I would still answer the phones while she was yelling at me.

That wasn’t awkward. At all.

Don’t worry.  By the end of the day, she remembered to thank me for the plant.

That was the first of three half hour lectures I received.

So this is my advice to everyone:

If you know your worth, and you know that you’re worth more than what you’re doing and have bigger and better goals than being an old lady’s punching bag, leave.  Because even though it’s terrifying and you’ll second and third and a million times guess yourself, you know what you have to do. And everything else will fall into place.

As soon as I put in my two weeks notice, I got two interviews. And I made it to the second round of interviews for one – and got the other. So I guess my mistake making bootay will be somebody else’s problem awesomeness.

Know your worth. And go for it.

I know that was pretty heavy, so here’s a dramatic chipmunk remix.

Why I Regected My Job: Part II

…or as I like to call it:

Everybody Makes Mistakes, But You Better Not.

So it’s a fact of life.  We all do it, sometimes, probably multiple times a day.  They come in many shapes and sizes.  Some look like this:

Some look like this:

When I started my job, I really had no idea what I was doing.  It was in a field I had no experience in.  My interview went like this:

Boss: So do you know anything about this field whatsoever?

Me: No

BAM.  I don’t lie when it comes to job skills to avoid this conversation:

Bad Scenario: You lied to me!

Me: I THOUGHT I’D KNOW WHAT TO DO WITH THE HEART ONCE IT WAS OUT!

So when I was told I got the job, I was a little surprised but pretty confident in my abilities to learn from asking questions and paying attention during training.

Except there was about five minutes of training before they started me off. It went like this:

Supervisor: Click here here here here input here there do the hokey pokey but don’t turn yourself around except in cases where you have to click here and there.
Got it?

Me: Not at all

Supervisor: If you have any questions, ask

Me: Can you explain it again?

Boss: Why doesn’t AG understand?

Supervisor: I don’t know, I just explained it

Boss: AG, were you not listening?

Me: I’m just a little confused

[phone rings]

Supervisor: Why aren’t you answering the phone?

Me: I’m sorry I didn’t know [answers phone]

Boss: Why didn’t AG know

Supervisor: I don’t know, I just explained it

Me: Hello, Worst Company in the World, how may I help you?

Boss: We don’t answer the phone like – Why did AG answer the phone like that?

Superviser: I dunno, I just explained it

Me: I’m sorry, there is chatter going on in the background, what was your name?

Boss: We don’t ask customers their – Why did AG ask the customer their name?

Supervisor: I just explained it

Boss: AG, we never ever ever say the company’s name. Ever.  And you don’t ask the customers why they’re calling- you just pass the call along to me. And we say Good Morning or Good Afternoon, we NEVER EVER EVER SAY HELLO

Supervisor: Just like I explained it

Me: ….so there’s a customer on the phone

Boss: Who is it and what do they want?

That was my five minutes of training.

And I made a LOT of mistakes my first two weeks. You know the type.  The I’m New at this Job and I Didn’t Realize I Was Doing it Wrong mistakes.
But the conversation would go like this:

Boss: You can’t do it like this, this destroys everything I have ever lived for!

Me: I’m sorry, I won’t make that mistake again.

Boss: THIS IS A HUGE DEAL

Me: I just fixed the mistake

Boss: I WILL HOLD THIS AGAINST YOU FOR THE REST OF YOUR EMPLOYMENT!

By the end of the day, I’d feel like this:

I felt like my mistakes were destroying everybody’s lives, but in reality, they weren’t.  They were easily fixable and nobody was effected by them. And I wouldn’t re-make the mistakes.

But they kept on changing the rules.  I felt like I was playing special edition Monopoly- confusing and just as long with no chance of winning in sight.

AND THEN my Supervisor went on vacation.  And they had me take over his job for two weeks.

Sticking with the theme, he gave me two minutes of training.

Supervisor: So you feel confident?

Me: Nope. I’m going to do my best but I think there’ll be a lot of mistakes because I really have no idea what is going on.

Supervisor: Aight, See you in two weeks!

Insert the sound of a door closing and picture me alone with a woman who resents me.

(Oh that’s right, it was only me, my boss and my supervisor in the office).

What happened after that? Stay tuned for Part III in the trilogy of Why I Regected My Job….

 

 

I have a theory:

Every writer is insecure.

(I didn’t say it was very complex.)

Sure, I know I look like this most of the time:

But most of the time I actually feel like this:

All blurry and poorly drawn.

Truth is, if you’re a writer, every word you pen is a piece of yourself that you’re ripping from your skin and putting on display for people to look at under a microscope and analyze the crap out of.

It’s like you’re fingerpainting with your soul every time you write.  Each word you leave behind is a fingerprint, after all.

BUT writing is a business and it is a business of Judgement in a world where people like to point out flaws.

I mean, here’s just a common example between – we’ll call them A and B

A: Oh, hey B, how’s it hanging?

B: Beautifully, no complaints

A: Awesome.  Hey, have you seen K?

B: Yeah, ran into him at the market the other day.

A: Yeah…Hey, can we just be real for a minute.

B: Sure

A: I mean, K’s a really great laugh at a party and it’s kinda cool that he’s worth so much in scrabble

B: And he’s not completely worthless like X

A: Right? But…what’s the use of K

B: YEAH! I mean, C really takes care of the CAH sound

A: He’s really just stealing jobs away from C

B: And then, and then as if that’s not good enough, he’s got to go and be a silent bastard!

A: But only sometimes!

B: He doesn’t do anything anybody else doesn’t already do!

A: Just taking up space

B: I know UGH look, I can’t bleieve I just used him in a sentence, you wouldn’t even kn…REALIZE if you weren’t reading

A: Right!

B: RIGHT.

A:….hey B, you seem rounder than usual

B: SHOVE IT UP YOUR A

nnnnnnnnyway,

See, even letters judge and point out flaws.
It’s the nature of words.

This is the business of rejection.  The business of flaw-finding.  And because these words are your soul, it’s always personal. And that leads to insecurities.

Listen, C isn’t as great as A and B made him CraCked up to be.  We all know that, right?  I mean, one can make the argument, why do we need C?  Sometimes he’s a soft sound, like an S and sometimes he sounds like a K, so isn’t C just taking jobs away from K?!  Something tells me that when A, B and C aren’t working, they’re all hanging out together and shooting the breeze and C brought up those points against K.  Poor K didn’t have a chance to defend himself.

And so is the same in this business of writing.

That’s why I say SCREW JUDGEMENT AND REJECTION!  And why I spell my regection with a g- because I’m embracing it and making it my own.

As should everyone.
As should you.

Just want to shout out and say THANKS to Alex who created the Insecure Writer’s Support Group of which this blog was written for.  Check it, and all the blogs, out.

The 7 Stages of ReJection

Stage 1 – Shock

No.  There is no mistake.

Some advice:

Stop making that face immediately. Nobody wants to see that.

Stage 2 – Denial

Well, what else are you gonna do?  Write a strongly worded letter to the contest/publisher/artistic director in question calling them a loser and telling them to go do something explicit to a body part with a plunger household item?

Some advice:

Don’t do that.

Stage 3 – Anger

After all the time and Energy and Sweat Blood Tears  MISSED HOURS OF AMERICA’S NEXT TOP MODEL SLEEP, THEY HAVE REJECTED YOU IN A POORLY FORMATTED, UNORIGINAL FORM LETTER.

AAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRGHHHHHH

STELLLLLLLLLLLLLLLAAAAAAAAAAAA
WHYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY

SOME BLEEPIN’ ADVICE:

Put down the bat.

Do not punch a mirror.  Or a wall.  Maybe a pillow.  Or your sister’s stuffed rabbit.

Stage 4 – Depression

As soon as you punch that rabbit, the anger dissipates, replaced by a deep sadness that makes you want to rip off your pants, put on your fuzzy robe and eat every donut in the world.

Some advice:

Do not listen to Enya.

Or Sarah Machaksfjsjadj Mclachlan.
Do take off your pants.  That’s an automatic win.

Stage 5 – Jealousy

SO.  Bob Jim and Mary Lou Who’s plays were “good enough”?
Yeah well, I heard that their plays SUCK AND KICK PUPPIES.
THAT’S FINE, I DON’T EVEN WANNA BE ASSOCIATED WITH A THEATRE COMPANY WHO CHOOSES PLAYS THAT KICK PUPPIES, I LISTEN TO SARAH MCLACHLAN

Some advice:

Don’t eat mice feel bad.  Feel the feeling.  Accept the feeling.  Then kick it in its ass and move on.

Stage 6 – Acceptance

Finally.  The clouds have parted.  You have stumbled across a few new contests to enter.  Your friends have brought you beer.
Lots of beer.
You’re drunk
Things ain’t so bad.

Some advice:

Don’t sing Koombaya.  That’s totally cliche and unoriginal.

Stage 7 – Blogging

Or you know, something else fun.  Like skeetball.  Or sky diving.

Some advice:

Never stop writing.  Never stop submitting.
And never forget to laugh.