Looks like I picked the wrong week to quit sniffing glue
And by sniffing glue, I mean take a vacation.
Today was my first day back at work, and my first day on my own in the art department. I had fifteen jobs lined up for me. However I only worked on four...two of which were actually mine to begin with.
Our other artist has now switched to part time, working Fridays and Saturdays. The other two jobs today were jobs she had started before I left on vacation. And from the looks of things, she hardly did a damned thing on either project.
I've spoken about her in the blog before. I've said that she does great work...eventually. In the three years she's worked for us, she just hasn't adopted the same work ethic I have. To her, jobs can always wait until the next day, and any job activity falls under three categories: 1) I don't know, 2) I don't remember, and 3) I don't give a rat's ass.
Sorry, I'm just a bit cranky. Working three hours overtime tonight on jobs that for all intents and purposes should've been finished last week will do that to you.
I got a little further insight into the silent treatment my other co-worker had been pulling with me. Turns out most of it wasn't about that row with her daughter's little on-the-clock vacation. You see, her father has been dying for almost a month.
Upon hearing this news, I really felt like an asshole. But then I thought to myself, like that's a frickin' excuse for what happened. If her daughter had spent that time lamenting about how her grandfather was dying, I might have played that hand a bit differently. But she wasn't. Still, I feel bad for spending that time feeling self-righteous towards this girl's mother instead of offering her a little support for her personal troubles.
Now that I'm back to work, I'm not gonna let it hurt my stride on my new writing project. I'm promising myself to take on at least two chapters each day, either by reading the book, or mapping out one in my own story. If I do more than that, great. However, it won't count as credit for the next day.
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