I'm pretty sure that's the name of an old disco tune, isn't it?

Anyhow. Money or no money, I'm about done working for Bernie. I had a minor melt-down this morning as She was after me to do a lot more projects (today!) than Bernie has agreed to pay me for and he was after me because I've been reluctant to commit to solving a tech problem a long-time client has with a program that was antique long before he hired me and that I've never worked with. (He mortally offended the programmer who created the program for him and wants me to get up to speed and then call the guy for him.)

Anyhow. The R.C. talked me down off the ledge and pointed out that temp work through an agency pays less, but also doesn't drive you to searching for a tall building with windows that open, so after I finish this current project for Bernie next week, I think I'll just have to be unavailable from now on.

"He's a crazy man" is the #1 reason I quit that place, after all.

The #2 reason was, "he doesn't want to pay for the work he needs to have done" and he's currently paying me, for free-lance work, less an hour than he did when I worked for him, it's also beginning to occur to me that I set myself up for this entire ridiculous situation, so it's up to me to get myself out of it. And I'm going to.

Lunch today with DiamondGirl is rescheduled until Monday because she has a girlfriend having a crisis. That's okay, I'll probably be saner by Monday anyhow.

Om….

I'm having a Girl's Night In with Meghan and Ruthless on Sunday, which should be fun. Mocking bad television, eating good food (That Meghan, she can cook! And I'm bringing cheesecake for dessert.), knitting, and chatting.

And, of course, I have this week's Disasterpiece Theater production to tape Sunday night. This week we're seeing Mansfield Park, arguably my least-favorite of Austen's books anyhow (I always want to slap Fanny Price and tell her to grow a spine), so I'd imagine that whatever grotesquery I'm going to see will consequently be funnier to me than last week's Persuasion proved to be.

You can tell I had a meltdown today, can't you? My syntax is still sort of insane.

The R.C. is taking me out to lunch and then we're going to a bookstore and I have given myself permission to spend a fiver if I find something that will enrich, enliven, or lighten up my life.

And, speaking of working (which I was doing originally), yesterday's interview went….

Well, I don't know. You can't really tell, can you?

I mean, they chatted with me for the full hour scheduled for the interview, so I'm assuming I didn't say anything disastrous in the first ten minutes, but the Big Boss also made a point of saying they were seeing "several more people" (when I was told they were meeting with only 3-4 "final" candidates) before they were making a decision next week, so….

Sigh. Seriously? I think it was a little too apparent that I was winging it when I answered a couple of their questions. Being able to do the work and being able to describe the process you use aren't the same thing, especially when you're talking about creative work.

I mean, how do you write an ad? What kind of question is that? You find out what the client wants to communicate, find an eye-catching graphic that describes it and that will intrigue people to read the 25-word ad text, and you bang them with the client's three most important keywords.

How do you write it? How should I know? It happens in a part of my brain that works better if I don't try to micromanage it.

Also? While I have faith that I could learn to write in 25 words or less :) ads are not actually something I've done.

Take your pick. Either I'm not that sanguine about my performance yesterday or this morning's meltdown has sapped my already shaky confidence.