Broke my streak yesterday. Worked on my workshop submission both fine tuning the lines and deciding which poems were worthy of such rare attention. It’s really a confidence game at this point. I was tired and had an unusual day that went astray from my normal routine.
With my dauber down, not a poem in the bunch felt good enough. Might have possibly been the three rejections that I had received in the previous 24 hours. Yes, three. I dunno. I don’t need them chumps anyhow.
It wasn’t until I ingested a healthy amount of caffeine that I started to feel better, and more like editing. I swear caffeine sometimes has magical properties.
Right about 5pm the poems started to appear viable, even good. And I kept editing through the evening into the next day until I was satisfied, putting them aside only to eat and hang out with Jim and the kids, and sleep. Though I did not get much sleep again.
I was up In the library with my laptop at 5:30am. By 1:30 Friday I did the final math and the conclusion was that they were as done as they were going to be. I proceeded to download and submit to our MFA program coordinator. ✅
The trick now is to forget about it. It’s out of my hands now anyway so no reason to keep thinking about it. I need to learn to do that with a lot of things. I’m sure it’s the reason I can’t go back to sleep when I wake up in the middle of the night.
Later Friday I picked up some CBD drops that are supposed to help with that—getting a more restful sleep by helping the mind relax. Last night was the first trial and the math on it isn’t very conclusive. One point of data does not make a point. You need more points of data to draw a line that leads to a conclusion. Tomorrow there will for sure be some more math about that. I had half a dropper and might up to a full ml tonight. We’ll see.
Last night I also had. a virtual HH with a friend in San Diego. She was also the PM on my last project with the company I quit in September. We were friends from way back and before we both signed on at that company. She just started this year but has made quick work being elevated among leadership. She was promoted to my boss (without anyone letting me know) as a part of her engagement plan.
Of course I’m happy for her but it has made me privy to some info that leaves a bad taste in my mouth. She’s told me things in confidence and I can’t I know these things. So when she initiated a conversation about me coming back for part time work, I had to try very hard to listen and find positive things to say.
The truth is, she gave me a heads up she was going to ask so I had already done the math. I started with the X amount of dollars I was making an hour before. Which has not been increased after 2 years at the company. I’m not factoring in my excellent performance and dedication. I’m only positing that at the very least I should have had a 4% increase both years for inflation. That brings me to the lowball figure that would be an insult.
Now consider that I’m an employee that does not need benefits. So the company isn’t out of their own pocket for 401k or healthcare or life insurance on my behalf.
Now add the value factor. This is subjective, but if I’m as awesome as they always tell me I am, then why would they not come with a solid number. When it came to that part of the discussion she basically said that she could not remember our previous conversation but whatever it was I asked for, they could do that.
Listen, people, I DO remember that conversation as it was important to me. My life and my livelihood. And to say you don’t remember means it wasn’t that important. The status of our relationship aside, that hurts. Of course, when we had that conversation I didn’t ask for enough which I regretted. But herein lies the rub..
IT DOES NOT MATTER anymore. Say it was X * 16%. So what? That’s not enough. X * 50% is not enough. X * 861% is not enough.
Because can’t put a price on time.
Time is priceless.
I told her I’d have to think about it and talk to Jim. She pressed me for a timeframe and I promised her by Monday.
I don’t need to think about it anymore except whether or not to be open and direct about my reasons. About the way I feel. And the mistakes I feel have been made. But then I have to ask myself, does that matter either? The conclusion?
THAT DOES NOT MATTER either. In the grand scheme, my feelings don’t matter. That folks, is a solid reality of life.
Your feelings matter to you. And they should matter to the people you hold near and dear, but outside that circle, no one else is going to care.
That’s why we need to be good to our circles of love and friendship. And to ourselves.
One of the poems I found enough merit in to edit further and submit to workshop is called “A Love Letter for Today.” I’m not typically inclined toward love poems, so this one feels important. Special. A good little poem.
Time to turn my attention elsewhere.
Where, I dunno.
Add It Up,