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rue-madame's Diaryland Diary

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Love me do

Yesterday I got a check in the mail!

It’s from my favorite client of all time. They misplaced one of my invoices from December (!) and are just now paying me. If it were anybody else, I would have raised hell about this tardiness; but these guys are different. First of all, they pay me handsomely, many times disregarding my quote and just coming up with their own figure. They are great to work with, they’re all supersmart, funny, make suggestions that always improve the final project. Plus, they crack up about this kind of stuff:

Marketing Manager: Listen, we took your file and because we were short on time, we made some tweaks...

Me: uhuh...

MM: ... but they’re not huge tweaks, you know, there was a little more copy than expected, so we moved some elements around...

Me: uhuh...

MM: ... and we just need you to take a look at it so we can send it to film. Today. Like in 15 minutes.

Me: Ok.

MM: So here it is (showing me the printout,) we mostly remained faithful to the original as you can see, so if you’d just like to...

Me: ... oh my god.

MM: What?

Me: I don’t know what this is, but I can’t condone it.

MM: (laughs hysterically like she’s never laughed before or since)

See why I tolerate the tardiness? They appreciate my quirkiness.

Things are looking up in the work department. This monday I am going down to a new publisher’s office to sign a contract for some freelance book cover design. Should be cool. The people seem nice and appear more or less organized. Unlike the last publishing client I had down here. Sheesh, talk about disorganized and cheap! These new people saw my Friday estimate and raised me a few extra dollars. This may be the beginning of a beautiful relationship.

Since we’re on the cusp of Valentine’s Day, I will broach the subject of romance.

Romance?

What romance?

There is a serious lack of romance in my life, and I am partly to blame. In my mind, romance costs money (which I don’t have) and I never feel like I have the means to sweep me off my feet... oh wait a minute, what about Terence? Isn’t he the one who’s supposed to sweep me off my feet? Yes and no. He’s great when he has the time to plan and organize, but is not so good on his feet when he hasn’t. Me, I’m impossible; I have impossible standards of what constitutes a romantic gift/evening/meal/setting/vacation/what have you. Not to say that in order to make me swoon, you have to spend a million dollars; if you’re creative and can dream up some delightfully unique and sentimental thing or event for me, then I’m putty in your hands. As Terence has been up-and-down lately, riding the emotional rollercoaster of unemployment, I feel I should do something special for him. So the plotting begins...

Yesterday’s yoga class was just the perfect amount of challenge and sweat. The teacher made me laugh. She was walking around handing people props if they needed them, calling “Blankets? Blocks? Extra mat? Peanuts? Malts?” I am sore today; the lower leftside of my back is aching a bit. I think this has more to do with being pms than a muscle being strained.

I woke up startlingly late today: 10:15 am! I haven’t slept in that like in an age. I made coffee, went back to bed with the demitasse, and finished The Secret History. That book has been my drug for two weeks. I was so sad to finish it, and sad that I would never be able to read it for the first time again. Towards the end, I was agog--imagine me, exclaiming, taking in tiny sips of surprised air, mouth agape. Terence just sat on his side of the bed, grinning at me. He delights in these moments; he thinks it’s like seeing me as a little girl, but I find it distracting and annoying. I mean, ok, it's very sweet and adorable of him, but I tell you, it's hard to read in peace and quiet when there's a lovesick little puppy mooning right beside you.

11:51 a.m. - 2003-02-09

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