Fuzzy

My head is still fuzzy from this cough/cold/flu thing that I've been "enjoying" over the past 4-5 days. Also, my computer has decided that it doesn't need to see the D drive within its innards. Which is a big problem, because that's where allllllllll my artwork is stored. Oh hell yeah, good times! So no pictures for now. Which may be a relief, for all I know.

My last day at work was a pain. The sequence director suddenly decided that many drawings that have been in the boards for three weeks or more were suddenly unacceptable and I had a lot of redrawing to do. What made it really maddening was that he didn't compile a list, he just kinda decided on the fly what he wanted changed as he flipped through the entire board throughout the day. So I'd have a revision. Take the page to his office, he'd look at it, say yay or nay, and either have me redraw that page again or hand me one, two or three more changes to make at a time. Rinse and repeat.

So I was running back and forth between my cubicle and his office all freakin' day. I think I wore through the carpeting between that horrible cubicle and that horrible office. And I was driving to Sacramento as soon as the last revision was completed. He knew it, but kept with the straggling drawings here-and-there until I was seriously thinking of just throwing what I had left to do at him and leaving without getting my final paycheck from Human Resources. Note: not a very good plan.

I just want to say that I don't mind doing the work, as long as it's somewhat organized and useful. What happened on Friday was random and chaotic and DAMMIT, it was my last fuxxing day!

The last thing I want to hear when I'm trying to get work done and get the hell out is: "Hey, it's lunchtime, go talk to your derby friends and take a break." Um, NO, how about you figure out somewhat quickly what else you want me to redo so that I can get it done and get the FUXX outta here, never to darken your doorstep any more?

Now that's a great idea!

I was in a foul mood, to say the least. You'd think that the sequence director would want to get rid of me as fast as possible, but I really think he enjoyed torturing me.

To add insult to injury, the production person on the crew forgot to give my final timecard to Human Resources, so they didn't have my final paycheck cut and ready for me. Bastards! So I could've walked out after all, as my paycheck was mailed to me. Sheesh.

The last comical aspect of all this? The supervising director kept saying to me, "You should become a director! You'd be GREAT!" Uh, riiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiight.