I had a horrible revelation yesterday. The Lord God above granted my wish to get some help — and it came via a freelancer I used to work with.
He charges double my “high” hourly rate … a fact I learned when he sent me an invoice that made me Drop. Dead.
For essentially a week’s worth of work, his invoice was more than I net for the whole month.
So I decided to figure out what my hourly rate is.
OMG BAD IDEA.
Then I figured out what my hourly rate REALLY is, based on MY average workday. Let’s say it’s A FEW hours more than eight.
OMG REALLY BAD IDEA.
I lose a thousand dollars a month, working beyond the average eight-hour day.
I was thinking, I could get a freelance job (HAH. With what time?) for $1,000 a month to make up for it. Or I could figure out how to work smarter/better/LESS.
When you put it into dollar terms, you realize just how fucked up your life is.
That’s $12,000 in hours that I lose … that I could be at the beach, writing a novel, taking walks and getting fit, or otherwise NOT being stressed and held hostage to the almighty deadline.
I couldn’t do it, mind you, if I didn’t enjoy the work. But for this guy who basically just helps me two hours a day to make MORE than I do over the same time period, well … fuck.
Sat, Jun 22 @ 6pm at The Big Hunt | Sweat your balls off in the swamp heat of the Nation’s Capital…. while hanging out with the coolest non-hipsters to grace the DistrictLADIES AND GENTLEMEN…
WELCOME TO THE DC TWEETUP.
Now book your hotel.
Following up on yesterday’s info, here’s the link to the official DCTU twtvite, so you can all RSVP.
Since South Florida’s only Tweetups are virtual ones, I’m intrigued.
I have been so angry over the past weeks and months over the amount that women’s rights are at risk. That a man, who has no idea about the fear and caution that plagues nearly every single woman’s life, can make major decisions that put us even more at risk. Or at the very least make it difficult to make important decisions after we have already been supremely violated. I feel sick about the way women are being talked about as if we don’t exist. About men sitting around a table to make decisions about birth control. I feel like a child sitting at the top of the stairs as mom and dad decide whether or not my curfew will be 10 pm or midnight.
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M&Ms and Boobs: Basic Instinct You should read the whole post, because it’s true and righteous. I will only add what I said on a neighborhood mailing list a couple of years ago when some dude was mansplaining about how people shouldn’t complain about crime on our newly-opened bike trail because it’s just property, after all. “When a man is out at night and gets mugged, he’s pissed about it. When a woman is out at night and gets mugged, yeah, she’s pissed, but she’s incredibly relieved that she ONLY got mugged.” |
Something like 5% of rapes result in pregnancy. One could make the case that 5% does indeed constitute “rare” from a risk-management perspective, but then you’d have to acknowledge that rape is extremely not rare.
There was a standup comedy routine making the rounds a while ago that was cited…
Took my little sister toy shopping today. After much browsing, she chose a pack of Hot Wheels cars. She wanted to pay so I gave her the money. As we were waiting in line, some dude waiting behind us asks:
“Buying those for your brother?”
My sister gives him a weird look,…
HEY LIKE YOURSELF DAMMIT OR I WILL FUCKING END YOU
I love this. Not (too) down on myself these days, but definitely wondering what’s so resistible about me. Of course, I asked that question of someone who has known me for over 20 years, and he said “resistible” is the last word he’d ever day about me. So, anyway, if this is what passes for love in my world right now, I’ll take it!
