I've been at the office now for only one hour and 15 minutes and I'm already bored out of my mind. I've made copies, printed off flyers, called people, answered the phone, answered and sent emails to keep the bands up to date . . . And that took me about 25 minutes, all told.
The flyers turned out absolutely bitchin', which is great because it makes me look good at work. Word around the office is that I'm on top of everything, amazing, keeping it together, awesome, etc…
That doesn't change the fact that I go home, lay down in the bed, and worry that people think I'm a complete idiot.
It's strange to have this utterly lost feeling, this complete sense of insecurity in only those areas where I'm succeeding. When I do well in school, I worry that I could do better (last semester's boo-boo in Political Science aside). When I do well at work, I worry that I'm not doing enough or that I leave too early.
Of course my worry related to work is mostly that I have to complete this project in a relatively short period of time. In addition to that I'm expected to raise money, which I don't think is going to happen. I would be surprised if we brought in a grand at the absolute most, including raffle tickets and the door, plus anything extra people dumped in the jar we'll keep at the table. My hope is to get a bunch of drunk 20-somethings to sign up as volunteers. That'd be great. Then call them up afterward and make them feel guilty about it and suddenly we have lots of people who realize they can make a positive difference in someone's life.
That last sentence makes me sounda as if I'm awfully optimistic about the nature of people. I wish I could say that everyone is basically good, deep down. Sometimes I'm not too sure. Our former landlord gave us the run-around for weeks and now he's keeping a total of $800 of our $1300 deposit on the last place. Eight hundred dollars for some paint and removing the last renters' stuff out of the basement.
We need the money for bills at the new place that are starting to roll in so we won't complain. Yet. But once he sends that check he's going to get a super-nasty letter from me. It probably won't solve anything or change his money or get us more money, but the principle behind the matter is what really bothers me. After every dollar we dumped into that slumlord's house to fix all the crap he didn't bother looking at when we moved in . . . to turn around and blame us for the stuff the last tenants did is just unforgivable. It's not my fault he doesn't pay attention to anything. I shouldn't be punished for being honest and not asking him to reimburse me for the broken blinds I replaced, or the dead bolt we put in, or the sinks and drains and tub we fixed.