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Tuesday, Jun. 14, 2005 - 3:40 a.m.

Cost of the War in Iraq
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WARNING!!!! if you know me personally, you may read my diary, but if you do, you take the chance of hearing things you don't want to know, misunderstanding what I've written and being hurt by it. If you are unsure if it is ok to read, save yourself and me the grief and heartache, and ask first!!! Please note that this is a DIARY, ie my subjective feelings, hearsay, suppositions, and outpourings of ranting of the moment. It does not represent objective news, the whole of what I think of a topic or someone, or even a thought-out representation of any of the above. Keep that in mind. Thanks. * Here is a Diary Etiquette Read Me.

South Korea invades SLOWLY

This was just one of those days.

It started with me waking up needing to go, um, something, maybe fart, maybe pee, no, fart, oh damn, did that already in my sleep and it was a dinnerthroughtheblendercameouttheotherend liquid fart. Sorry to say so, but what you picture has to be about four hundred times nicer than the truth. The smelly wet acrid truth. And yes, I had just for the first time in two weeks changed the sheets and even washed the mattress cover. Isn't it nice to soil your cleanest sheets. And thank GOD for me having worn underwear to bed, since I had to get up at some point to close open windows and doors (which i had left open to cool the place off... note that Bowling for Columbine is correct. I am not afraid to leave my windows and doors wide open).

So yeah, strip the bed, put a load of laundry in, shower with tons of soap, wash out underwear... it was a restful night. And i didn't dare go back to bed (now no mattress cover to protect the mattress eh)... so I put my camping foamie on the floor in the kitchen, and put down some towels (you see, I was quite very afraid now), and lay down. It was hard. I had to get up several times an hour cuz now I know a fart was a hamburger and salad milkshake escaping.

The good thing is I didn't FEEL sick. Just smelled horrid and had to keep running to the can. And now I am better but i only ate toast, applesauce and applejuice all day. sniff sniff. I wonder if it is the raw swisschard, or the strawberry bits i cut off the molding strawberries. Dang. Shouldve thrown the strawberries away. grrr.

What else? Well, it suddenly hit that at this rate my "six books for South Korea finished for the 20th of May, paid by the first week of June" dream contract is just ruining my life. yes. I am only now tracing and transfering the drawings onto watercolor paper for books 3 and 4. Then I have to color them. It is already the 13th of June. It will take me til about the 10 of July to finish coloring these in and then START on the sketches of books 5 and 6. I probably won't be finished til end of September. I can't believe it.

I was supposed to be done by June 1 so that I would pay off my debts. So that I could take other work. So that I could adopt a kid... showing the bank how I was financially capable.

Having done half the work by June 1 does none, yes, none of those things. I am still in debt with no end in sight. I have still half the contract to go so it is taking up all my time. And since I am still working on it, I cannot take other contracts that will add $$ to my new debt-free status. grrr.

Today I had to sit down and discuss with two ladies in two different provinces when I could work for them. "But I thought you said you were free in June!" "well, I thought you said you were free mid July!" "I thought you said you were ready to work for us Sept 1!!"

And then it got worse. "WHEN can you work for us?" "When will you be done that contract?" "When will you be free?". Well, am I a bloody fortuneteller?? I had a contract saying I was free the 21st of May. And then they revised the contract to say we'd be all done the 15th of July. Now who knows. I am betting mid to end September.

Yes, I am not a betting woman, but I did it. I took other contracts. I should be happy. I am not.

They are not wellpaying contracts. One is with the author of that Inuit book I did, and I sort of feel obliged since she told me last September she wanted me to do her new novel, and spoke highly of me to the editor, and they put the project on hold to get me. So there ya go. I negotiated how many pictures, for the measly $1000, and negotiated due dates... cover for 5 August, and finals for 3 October. I may be insane. Or not.

And then once that was firmed up, I called the other one... the lesbian moms' assoc here in town want to do a book for kids with gay parents. Do I want to do it, yes. Do they want me to do it? Yes. Does it actually pay enough for the time involved in doing yet another 32 page color children's book? Not at all. They pay market value for a small francophone press. Which means enough to buy asswipes but not enough to adopt children, or get out of debt or anything else. Did I say yes? Yes. They are putting the book on hold to get me. I said I could do it in October, Nov and Dec and negotiated a Jan 6 duedate... they're calling the author and other people involved today to see. They had initially wanted to put it out for Sept (insane, they are just too late) and then for Christmas release (might have worked if I hadn't still half the South Korea contract, and then, oh yeah, remember the book I asked to be put off til Sept instead of March... THAT one is still on the burner, and then the Inuit author book...) goddamn.

so now supposedly I should be happy. But I can only think that I have somehow booked in my whole year til next January, mostly with books that will make less than $1000 cdn a month. Insane. Totally insane. Please god send me some small well-paying contracts.

But still. I feel like jumping off a bridge. I am swamped in work. I need the $$. But I want to adopt a kid, and need to research it, go to workshops, meetings, be out of debt etc etc etc.

Need the $ to adopt. Need the time to adopt. Have neither $ nor time.

Somehow it will work out... or I'll just get overworked and lonely til I die. I kinda has been going that way.

If I was a normal person, I would be overworked and broke til I die, but I'd be bonking at night and have a kid or three by now. Why is it so hard to just do normal things. Do you think I'll be out meeting people and having dates with this lack of time and $? Non.

Oh who knows.

I have to stop talking about this and get back to work, cuz it makes me want to cry.
At least I have stopped shitting.
What a dismal entry.
Sorry.
me
wenchie.

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previous meanderings - future past

Goodbye Michael. May your next life be kinder to you. - Thursday, Jun. 25, 2009
Taking Care of Your Cows - Thursday, Jun. 25, 2009
Saint Joseph robs the cradle and eats spaghetti - Sunday, Jun. 14, 2009
sticky notes and broken irises - Friday, Jun. 12, 2009
The FOODCOMMANDER - Monday, Jun. 08, 2009

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