Banging my head against the wall...

...again. As usual, you might say.

And you'd be right.

I've been flailing away at work today, with spectacularly poor results. What it comes down to -- and yes, I've said this before -- is that I simply no longer give a damn about what I'm doing.

The article I will deliver tomorrow is one for which I receive very little money. But I receive it regularly, which puts this client light-years ahead of the rest. But even that knowledge doesn't help all the time.

I got a call today from D., the photographer, whose girlfriend convinced him they absolutely had to go to Seattle, for which he dropped a couple of projects we were doing. He was using his connections (which, in some areas, are better than mine) to line up replacement subjects for the story I wasted hours on last week, and which we could have gotten published speedily had all worked out.

The fact that his devotion to his girlfriend (who pays many of their bills, since his income is as pathetic as mine) pushed me deeper into the hole meant nothing to him. He was jabbering away about all the stories we could do up there. Except that the weather is bad, so he can't do any publishable photos. "We can come up here and do them later," he said.

Later is one of those words that can drive me into a rage. What I need is work -- and payments -- now. I am sick unto death of the "I'll pay you Tuesday for a hamburger today" syndrome...especially since it never works for me.

Okay, I know I'm getting into the "oh, poor me" shtick again, but so be it. This is my life, people, and it daily moves farther away from anything I have dreamt of or even worked for.

If I had to name one Christmas wish, it would be a chance to wake up one morning feeling secure. To know that I have a day ahead without people bugging me. I know there's always the risk of being skooshed by a truck, swallowed up by a tidal wave, or being abducted by aliens, but those hold no terror for me. Everyday things most people need not be bothered by keep me in a constant state of fear.

Tomorrow I return to yet another story that has required more of me than it is worth. I'll see a check for it in March, probably. Or April.

I keep doing this stuff, even though the effort seems more futile by the day.

Why?

PARENTHETICAL TOTALLY UNRELATED THOUGHT #1: I spent a little time working on my piano, trying to fix the two keys and one pedal that don't work. I'll have to find a place that supplies piano hardware to get replacements for some odd-looking parts. I also need to think about ordering new hammers at some point...I'm sorry I looked.

PARENTHETICAL TOTALLY UNRELATED THOUGHT #2: Got an email from R. after I sent him a photo of the Mexican Coke bottle similar to the one I posted here yesterday and advised him of the price I paid per bottle. His reply consisted of two words: one verb, one pronoun.