The Bloody Doors Off

I’m going to say this A LOT in the coming weeks.

I really, really fucking hate Pagemaker. It’s an outdated software that should be expunged from computers everywhere. I spent almost 5 hours today working on dummy pages (which in retrospect was a good thing) trying to make my layouts look the same as Walter’s. Turns out, the bloody print driver wasn’t applied. You know how, with any software that you can print from, you usually have a default printer set? Yeah, Pagemaker doesn’t do that. And sure enough, once applied the whole kit and kaboodle went to hell. Yes, a part of me should’ve checked the preferences. But when I’d go to print a page, the driver was recognized. So, fuck you for wasting my time today, Pagemaker.

Oh right, I nearly forgot to mention: the program was also not properly installed on the computer I’m using. It won’t automatically hyphenate, and has no dictionary installed. It’d only allow manual hyphenation and if you changed the leading AT ALL (which apparently you have to constantly do per article), you can’t rely on this.

I don’t like charging the client when shit like this happens. If I was working on proper pages? I wouldn’t.

And oh yes, in 30 minutes I was able to import all 20 pages of templates into InDesign and set up the style guides, even have the styles be there when the program boots up. I fucking OWN that software. But I don’t know when they’re gonna switch over. If I had hair (don’t touch the van dyke!), it’d be pulled out tonight.

At one point, I just sat there spinning in my chair, metaphorically. It was crunch time and Walter had to get the pages out, so he couldn’t offer any advice. And I don’t know the upload procedure to the FTP and the printer yet. Let’s hope he doesn’t get laid out with the same virus that hit me this week, ‘cuz I’ll be fucking useless at the end.

Or How I Spent My First Day at a New Job.

Okay, turns out, not a job. A contract. They want me to invoice them every 2 weeks. Hours on the honor system. Not what I was expecting. I kind of wanted the surety of having taxes paid, money dropped in my account. Not waiting for a cheque to arrive in the mail, waiting for it to clear.

And I spent my entire time creating the same damned pages as the senior layout artist, just as yes, another test.

I didn’t ask too many questions; they liked that. I am more familiar with the product; they liked that. I have a basic sense of the layout; they liked that. But I didn’t learn much about the tweaking that needs to be done, and can’t understand why I didn’t get to work on a few pages, have the editor mark it up, and then for me to fix it. I just feel like it was a … wasted opportunity.

Maybe it’s jitters. But when I get a new client (which I’m starting to think of them as), I don’t get jitters. I get the damned job done. So I’m already having a perspective shift on this. and I’m thinking, yeah, I wanna talk with that recruiter about opportunities he mentioned in the voice mail on Monday.

I was listening to this song on my iPod tonight on the ride home. It doesn’t hold any immediate significance in my life right now, but it did hit me.

Today was a good day. I mean, a good day. Despite some gremlin trying to find purchase in my throat, threatening a viral fuck you towards my first day at a new part-time job, things were good. I may have hit the wrong button when my alarm went off and slept an extra 90 minutes, but I still had plenty of time to make my appointments. And my brothers joined me for the first time with my psychiatrist. And that went well too. I’ve never felt closer to them, and wow, did I learn that I’ve repressed certain memories from childhood. I can deal with that. Shit makes sense that I’d push it down. But I can handle in future sessions.

There was an email from a client with a bit of work for when I got home. I’d had a bite to eat with Kevin and Wayne, and the bus ride was damned relaxing.

And then I learn Harold Ramis died. Fuck. One of the reasons I gravitated to comedy, SCTV was the first real window into Canadian comedy. It twigged me to Second City, and in a circuitous way, improv.

This day was supposed to be about me. I wanted to be selfish enough to say “yeah, bitch, things are looking up”. And now I feel like a piece of crap for feeling that way, because Ramis passed on.

Oh, and the working world has decided to really fuck with me too. I had a call earlier when I was headed to my psychiatrist appointment. It went to voicemail, I thought it was Kevin or Wayne checking the time (I was cutting it extremely close; thanks TTC!). Nope.

It’s a recruitment/temp agency. They have my resume, and want to talk about jobs that are available.

I’ve never bailed on a job before. Okay that’s not entirely true. There was one time when I lived over a pawn shop and trying to freelance and took a really crappy assignment asking questions outside a supermarket. I lasted a day. But otherwise, I’ve never accepted a job and then walked away from it.

But I have to take that call tomorrow. I know this in my bones. The part-time job (that I haven’t started yet) is going to barely pay the rent, and certainly not the bills. What if there’s a juicy contract position available that I’d be perfect for? I’ve been out of work since 2012 and I need something strong. Am I being an asshole for considering this?

Am I going to make people hate me?

Did you watch the closing ceremonies of the Olympics? Neither did I. If I’d stayed up for the full hockey game (ended up going back to bed and taping it) I could’ve watched it live in the morning. But I just couldn’t care tonight.

I tried to write. Maybe got two pages down. The idea is there, and I’ve sketched out the synopsis of the scene. It’s got humor and a moment for it to get more serious, a true bonding moment for two of the characters. I can hear them talking in my head, but so far, it’s fluff. I don’t know if they’re avoiding the moment, or I am.

I’m tapping into my past again for this scene. It takes place in a Dublin hostel, and what is to be their last hurrah after university (and before real life begins), only to get interrupted with potentially dire family news. But as this is a story I can control, it’ll have a happier outcome. The point is to solidify their bond. It did the same for me.

Anyway. That’s all I’ve got to say on that.

I’m stuck.

I’ve got ideas for the play, but am having trouble getting it started properly. The first scene has been revised. But there’s new stuff I want to write for it and that will inform other scenes in the play, and so I don’t want to get too heavy into rewrites until the new pages are done. But that’s the catch-22: getting a proper handle on the new stuff. I know what I want to accomplish, just not sure how to start it off.

And that makes me feel… empty. Like the well’s run dry, waiting to be filled up.

Went out to get a few groceries earlier, and it was really nice out. Sunshine, above zero temperature. But it just didn’t call to me. Finally a day that isn’t making me feel like hibernating, and I didn’t take advantage of it. And now it’s evening, and I want to write, but it’s not calling to me either.

And then there are the coincidences. Finding a song earlier today from Vangelis called ‘Rachel’s Song’. Blade Runner on the television (character? Rachel). It’s that kind of day. Everything’s telling me to write. But I’m blank.

Even worse? I was supposed to go out tonight with friends. I was dressed and ready. And wham, anxiety flooded. For no good reason. It just did. And before I was aware, I was in my pajamas and under a blanket on the couch.

Ugh.

I would like to bottle today in a bottle, to spritz in increments when I’m having shitty days.

First, Canadian Men’s hockey are in the finals. And yeah, for a guy who’s not much into sports, I’m pretty damned happy about it. It’s the Olympics; hard not to get swept up. But man, as a Torontonian I was conflicted. Here I am rooting for a team with Habs players and the U.S. had Leafs players. So… the Leafs streak is unbroken.

Then I was in the office at the new job, doing a quick layout just so one of the bosses was satisfied I could work on my own (i.e., when the senior graphics lead wouldn’t be in the office). I’m getting my balance in PageMaker, and it sounds like it won’t be long until we move to InDesign, which will make things even easier.

Came home, grabbed a bite, then headed out to Subspace for a staff gathering. Tickled the hell out of Eva, than smacked the beejeesus out of JB’s ass. Now I’m home and watching the Tonight Show and enjoying a wind-down with a little help from my friend. And the cats. Bloody cuddlers. They think I should be in bed by now. Granted, I probably should be. Soon.

And because it was on my iPod just before I got home (took the leisurely Carlton streetcar from Dufferin; I enjoy the late-night ride), I present another Canadian treasure, Drake:

(I hate the video, but love the song.)

I got the job. Ego boost, a side of nerves. I proposed a pay scale; they offered the low end, but it was within the range I’d put forward. Will not complain about that. I start Tuesday. And, I don’t have to be in the office until mid-afternoon. Lovely.

It won’t pay all the bills. I knew that when I applied. But it will pay the rent, and provide more experience as well as, and this is the important bit, momentum. I’ve been feeling inertia on the job front for far too long. Hopefully this will give me impetus to work on getting more clients for my business. Or another part-time job.

Tonight, I feel… worthwhile.

No word from the job yesterday. You want frustrating? This. Is frustrating.

“And other than that, Mrs. Lincoln, how did you enjoy the play?”

I dunno how to describe today, other than that.

So. I went in today for a second interview with that part-time job. At least, I thought it was an interview. I can’t be sure. It might’ve been offered to me. They definitely got me on the computer for 3 hours to work on a few pages, alongside Walter. He’s the current layout guy at Share. Before I went in, one of the owners told me they’re not looking to push him out, but he’s got carpel tunnel and wanting to take more time off, and they’re planning for the future.

I did 2 page layouts and a couple of ads. Around 7pm, the EIC called and said I was welcome to leave or continue on. I hadn’t planned on being there this long, hadn’t eaten since breakfast, and needed to grab food. There’s nowhere in the area to eat, so I made the choice to head out. They asked if I was back tomorrow.

No clue. Because while they said at the outset today that I was their choice (over the other candidate), they didn’t outright offer me the job, discuss a wage, or get me to sign any paperwork. So I’m assuming that this was part two of the interview, get the layout editor to look at my stuff, and they’ll make the call?

And oh, it’s all in Pagemaker. I can sort of get around it. But even Walter admitted no one really uses Pagemaker any longer and they should upgrade to InDesign (which they also have). And I’m not sure why they’re importing PDFs into Photoshop, saving as an EPS, then loading it into CorelDraw and exporting that to a TIFF. See, I’d import the ads into Illustrator, export as an EPS and link it in the InDesign file. (They say they use TIFF because the file size is smaller overall in Pagemaker, but if you do it with InDesign, it doesn’t technically bloat the main file.)

What I’m saying is, there are efficiencies that could be incorporated. But I’m (maybe) the new guy, and that’s down the road a ways.

And also? I suffered a HUGE, CRIPPLING panic attack in the middle of it all. I have no idea how I kept it together. There was literally a moment I imagined trying to explain to my psychiatrist/ODSP/OW how impossible it was for me to consider work. But I got past it. So… go me?

They like me. But they haven’t offered me the job yet. I think.

Well, it’s a start. Worked on 9 pages of the script tonight.