Log in

No account? Create an account
entries people I don't yell at while driving a bigger calendar empirical value windchaser-dot-org previous previous next next
Eek! - Salvador Dali in a lawn chair.
I'm invisible without 3D glasses.
My boss can't find the Faudine project that is the next schedule piece to transcribe. The other fall-back-on project I had has been canceled because the professor had decided to write it up myself.

Edie, my boss, says she'll talk to Joanne, the director, to see if there is any more transcription or editing I can do.

I'm getting very worried that there might not be any work left for at the Space Law Center.

I really love my job. I have one of the best jobs a person my age and in school could possibly have. I work from home. I work whenever I please for twenty hours a week. I transcribe interesting lectures about space law and edit them. I make $10 an hour. It's wonderful for someone like me.

Yes, it can be frustrating, trying to turn the spoken word into a coherent textbook-like written work. The lecturers don't always talk into the microphone, slur their words, lapse into propaganda or long tangents, don't finish their sentences, and switch topics in mid-sentence.

But I need this job very badly. Not only do I need the money, but I also have to need to have worked for more than just a short period somewhere and have built up a dependable reputation as a good worker. I must have this to build my resume since I have a bad history of quitting jobs when I got tired of them or had major trouble getting up for them. I can't fuck up again.

mood: worried worried

Lift Your Voice Aloft