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Big Fuck-Off Flood

Last night, I had a big ball of stress pile on me. Not only was I stressed from my first day of getting transferred** at my job, but I had unintentionally slept the day away, and woke up to a sunken feeling, like my seasonal depression, but emphasis on the exhaustion.

And I'd been waiting all day on certain news. At 10pm, I was to get either an acceptance letter, or a rejection from Iron Spike, the editor of Smut Peddler (regarding my story proposal). 10pm came and went, so I re-checked what time she said. 10pm... CMT. I'm EST, and I thought she was, too. So I had to wait another hour, when I had been ready to go to bed at 9.

While waiting for the email to come in (still thinking it would at ten), I surfed through Instagram and saw my friend Mark had posted a very recognizable spot at one of my favourite pubs, The Old Toad. It was an empty bar stool, sitting at the door to the pub. Every regular of the Toad knew that stool. That's where Tony Gerardi sat to check IDs at night. And I knew what a photo of his empty bar stool meant. I don't remember under what circumstances he reached out to me on Facebook, but I'm glad he did. He was a funny guy and a great friend, and I'm glad I got the courage to introduce myself to him when I saw him in person at the pub (on an evening he wasn't even on door duty). I passed by the pub on my way home yesterday and thought of popping in. He wouldn't be there that early, but I thought of him, and I passed it up because I knew he wouldn't be there anyway. If I hadn't been across the street, I might have seen the sign in the window that read they were closed due to a loss in the Old Toad family. I don't know how it happened. I signed onto Facebook to go to his page. I left my condolences and searched around, hoping for an answer. He had a rare condition, but that's the only thing I picked up. I have no idea what this condition was, or if that's even how he died (probably, though). I tried to pass off my tears as just being over-exhausted, but I don't think I was fooling Charles. When I passed by on the way to work, I started to cry again, and now, at work, I've got to stop writing because I'm starting to tear up.

I got the email from Spike just after 11. Rejected. I'll still do it. I'll still work on the comic idea, but I was kind of hoping I'd have a shot. She got almost 400 submissions. I didn't stand a chance (though I must say, I saw a couple of the accepted artists, and I wasn't too impressed). My friend Kaylie didn't get in, either. I wonder if Ross made it (probably, since he's got an in, anyway). Oh well. I've just got to build up my comic portfolio. Work on some b&w stuff, work on solidifying my style... I'll get there someday. I still have one anthology I'm a shoe-in for: The Nightmare-themed MCC anthology, which is due tomorrow.

On the upside, I was still glowing from getting a text from Jayme, Voltaire's ex (who I didn't think I'd ever hear from again after the breakup, because it's usually one or the other when friends break up), I texted and twitter-convo'd a few people yesterday (JV, Ron, Tia), and I felt good realizing this is more of a life than what I had on Facebook. And I had a really nice tea date with Joanna after work :)

I got transferred at my job from the main campus to the downtown campus. The pros hugely outweighed the cons, but there was really only one con- I didn't want to leave the great people I worked with. I've been working with them for over 4 years, and I was the choice for transfer. I don't get it, honestly. But the pros: it's walking distance from work (takes exactly 29 minutes- half when I bus it in the winter), I get done at noon (8-12 shift weekdays), and it's 6 more hours a week. Not to mention, it's probably a good opportunity to get closer to being promoted to full-time.

I hope today is better.



( 2 comments — Leave a comment )
Nov. 8th, 2013 01:05 am (UTC)
I hope your today was indeed better :)
Nov. 8th, 2013 01:55 am (UTC)
It was :)
( 2 comments — Leave a comment )