As A Direct Result

2015-06-132015-06-13 Miss Poison Being Sick, Chronic Pain, Clients, Editing, Exhaustion, Fibromyalgia, Honesty, Idiots, June, Life, Migraines, Musings, Pain, Pieces Of Me, Poison In Lethal Doses, Saturday, Self-Care, Shopping, Work, Writing Chronic Pain, Clients, Cooking, Editing, Fibro Flares, Fibromyalgia Pain, Getting Shit Done, Heat, Life, Migraines, Musings, Pieces Of Me, Poison In Lethal Doses, Saturdays, Shopping, Twitter, Work, Writerstream, Writing

251214_538562782827767_988245146_n — It’s also an evil life-destroyer.

I’ve decided that today is going to be a work-free day.

I went to bed this morning sick as a dog. I suspect my brief time out yesterday affected me more severely than it ought to. Within a few hours of coming home, I got my fourth migraine of the week. I took a brief nap and I wasn’t entirely okay afterward, but now? UGH!

Sadly, with migraines, you often question whether you did something wrong, ate the wrong thing, etc. All I did was go out in tremendous heat for an hour and a half and come home. It wasn’t a lot of physical exertion, but my body says otherwise. I had a mild headache upon returning, but it wasn’t until I actually felt pain in my head that I took something for it. By 7:30, as my neighbors attempted to power wash something right near my bedroom window, I contemplated outright murder. My ears simply cannot bear the noise, and what are they up to at this precise moment? Yard work. At 9:23 a.m. On a Saturday. When it’s already 85 degrees and a heat advisory has been issued for the entire area, AGAIN. Schools actually closed early yesterday, if they opened at all, because it was over 100 degrees with the humidity and people were experiencing breathing problems. But hey, dumb & dumbest need to make noise on a yard that requires no work at all this week. This is where I would like to point out that I refrained from putting #TheyNeedToBeShot. I’m not a violent person…just don’t make noise when I’m sick or on any day ending in a y.

As a direct result of this migraine/heat/stomach agony, I’m trying to decompress this morning. I’d rather be asleep, but I desperately need to hit the grocery store. Not a fun task, I do not look forward to this, but I am going to try going once it cools down. There’s no point in making myself any sicker by attempting to do it early on in the day. Everyone and their grandmother will be there to capitalize on the digital coupon extravaganza, which has already turned into an epic fail because 9/4’s of the coupons don’t come off at the end of each order, which means customer service is inundated with questions as to why they didn’t work and precisely “Where are my savings? Are you going to give me my money back?” Actually, the store is set up to make sure you actually loaded the coupons on to your savings card in the first place. If you didn’t use the physical coupons that were also provided for the week, chances are you didn’t get the savings on those four items. I clipped all of my mine last night and will print up a few others later on. I’ve saved nearly $1000 this year alone in coupons at one store. That is a small accomplishment, but it feels good every single time I look at my receipt.

I’ve completed all of my work this week (though I am seemingly still loosely on the consulting job), except for the manuscript, which I will devote more daily time to next week in my attempt to complete it. I’m not looking forward to that, I’m simply tired of seeing it and knowing that it’s not complete. I do NOT relish the line of questioning that will come with the delivery, but since I stated in the contract how much time I will spend on answering questions before charging again for my time, I hope that will make the client aware that I mean business. It’s in black and white, how hard is it to follow guidelines?

Before I forget, I want to thank Writerstream for featuring my work this week, and I’d also like to give a huge shout out to the dozen or so new Twitter followers in the last 12 hours alone. (Special thanks to Lillian for encouraging me to join Twitter. Hugs sweet pea!) I never knew I’d grow to love it so much. To the friend that reads my Tweets and isn’t afraid to joke with me and laugh, I appreciate it. (You know who you are, doll!)

If you need me, I’ll be here for the next few hours. Drinking coconut water. Praying that it helps. If it doesn’t, I’m seriously considering an ER visit because this level of pain is out of control.

Have a great weekend everyone! And please, stay out of the heat and wear sunscreen.

100% Anti-Idiot

2015-04-302015-04-30 Miss Poison Honesty, Idiots, Musings, Poison In Lethal Doses, Writing Honesty, Idiots, Musings, Poison In Lethal Doses, Thursday, Writing

I’m not sure who shit in everyone’s breakfast this morning, but the lunatics are EVERYWHERE. The Full Moon is next week which might have been able to explain some of this away, but no. I’m dumbfounded by the levels of idiocy I’m seeing. It’s like a disease, spreading every second. I can only follow the conversation for so long until my brain starts to hurt. I’m coming off of several days worth of migraines and horrific physical pain, so I’m trying NOT to go back to a place of pain. In turn, it’s time to speak my peace and turn the computer off for a good 8-10 hours.

We live in an opinionated world, but no one on this planet holds the key to every single aspect of knowledge roaming around. That is virtually and statistically impossible. Unfortunately, opinions ARE like assholes and the world, and Internet, are FULL of them. This saddens me, because for every 100,000 assholes, there’s one smart person looking for other smart people. Reach out smart people, reach out!

Is there nothing I can do to shield myself from all this insanity? Yes: Walk away. Let the idiots run their mouths. Let them put their feet in their mouths. Let them choke on their own hip bones, but do not, I repeat, do NOT, engage. Because apparently it’s not Thursday, it’s “Know It All” Day. And all I can think is “I did NOT know that!” LOL.

I’m too fucking tired to deal with idiots that cannot carry on an intelligent, adult conversation. The holidays are over, so I don’t expect people to preach religion at each other and sound like even bigger assholes by doing so. Even with a Presidential election coming up next year, I do NOT want to hear every Tom, Dick, and Harry’s twisted opinions. I don’t want to hear Jane, Mary, and Lizzy’s opinions either. I have my own, I am legally entitled to them, and I really don’t care who other people THINK I should vote for. For now, I simply want to eat something and take a fucking nap (kitten is napping nearby and looks so precious. I love cat-napping with the purrables.). I’ve been up longer than most people have been at work today, no judging.

Later, I just want to watch the fucking hockey game and be left alone. Peace and quiet, even if only an illusion, is still peace and quiet.

In the meantime, while I am living my idiot free existence, let me know how you’re faring as you dodge what I am sure are your very own idiots du jour. Can’t we send them somewhere? Isn’t there a country that needs a larger population?! Because I am more than happy to send them a list of people they can collect as their very own citizens. If I factor in people I know, as well as strangers, they’d have a million new citizens by tomorrow morning.

The World Really IS Full Of Idiots!

2015-03-232015-03-25 Miss Poison Honesty, Idiots, Musings, Poison In Lethal Doses, Writing Honesty, Idiots, Musings, Poison In Lethal Doses, Writing

Author’s Note: This does not pertain to the non-idiots of the world, of which the ratio seems to be smaller by the day.

Patience is not my strong suit. It’s a fact, so I’m being clear about it. And yet, with my severe lack of patience, every idiot in the world is somehow finding me. Where the hell did all the smart people go?!

You can tell me I’m crazy, or you can simply nod in understanding. Take your pick. When I’m wrong, I say I’m wrong, but when I’m right…I am woman enough to admit it. Thankfully, I am often right, mainly because I don’t open my mouth if I’m 100% wrong. I’m smart enough not to. So, here’s my ~~short~~ list of pissed off rants.

I purchased something on eBay that never arrived. I immediately requested a refund. The seller wanted me to wait another two weeks “in case it arrives late”. It didn’t. Now the seller is claiming that I cannot be refunded, “PayPal will not allow it”, and suggests they re-send the item which will take approximately TWO MONTHS to get here. If it didn’t arrive the first time, do they really think I want to wait another 45-60 days? I’m calling PayPal stat. FYI: This was not an expensive item. The whole point of using PayPal is to protect yourself from things of this nature. I’m starting to wonder what the hell compels me to occasionally purchase something from countries with questionable shipping regulations.
A woman purchased a mineral foundation from me on eBay. My listing was clear, concise, and specifically states that I do not accept returns. She purchases, pays, and the item arrives. She leaves me positive feedback, and then files a “Request To Return Item” with eBay. UN-BELIEVABLE. eBay states that I do not have to accept returns because my listings all state that I don’t. She claims she “bought the wrong shade”. She bought it with plenty of time to spare and could have said something to me in advance of my shipping it, but instead, she paid right away and I shipped it to her. How do I warrant positive feedback and no personal message asking if I’ll accept a return if she states that she was satisfied with five-star feedback? I ALWAYS communicate directly with a seller if there’s even the slightest issue. I think we can all agree that I shouldn’t be forced to let her have a refund AND keep an item she opened when it was shipped sealed. I don’t think it’s my job to do the color research for her that she should have done at ANY store, or on the Internet. If you’re buying any type of foundation for the first time, test it out somewhere first, especially if you’re looking to save money by buying it on eBay. I’ve never bought foundation without first knowing the color would be a match, but if I did, I knew the company I was purchasing it from accepted returns within 30-120 days. This just plain irritates me.
I ~~stupidly~~ offered to help out a fellow writer in January by editing her manuscript. She said she could not afford an editor, so I stepped up and said I would do it “in my spare time”. I was abundantly clear that I’d do it “in my spare time”. That actually means “when I have a few minutes, I’ll work on it, but not all at once”. It does not mean “I’ll prioritize your work like the customers that pay for my work”. I cannot afford to do that. I will treat her with the same respect and courtesy, yes, but is her manuscript my first working priority? No. I made that very clear. I don’t need a pat on the back for an act of kindness, but I’d really like the incessant whining e-mails to stop. The other day she sends me a message to ask if I think she should remove some characters (YES!), because she’s considering revising it by omitting a whole bunch, but also wants to flesh out others (all of a sudden. How much work does she expect for free?!?). I told her I could not make that decision for her and that if she is going to make that choice to forward me the revised manuscript at her convenience. I have a paying customer whose work I MUST focus on. (I did NOT say the last part, but I did want to locate a spoon to remove my eyeballs.)
How is that people take a simple discussion and make it all about religion? How is “I’m a Christian” an answer to something that does not involve religion AT ALL? The subject then turns to the painting ‘The Last Supper’ by Leonardo da Vinci. Any idiot with half a brain knows that this particular, not to mention famous, painting is not called “The Da Vinci Code”, right? I had to stifle myself from pulling out my own hair. No wonder other countries are so much smarter than Americans! Even better, some idiot says “I think it was supposed to be a metaphor.” Umm, NO. If you’re trying to debate with someone and you involve religion and a book that is probably based on some semblance of fact, then have the fucking facts, use spell check, and know what you’re talking about before you open your mouth. Moreover, a work of fiction has NOTHING to do with Jesus and your personal beliefs regarding such. (I’d say more on the subject, but it’s not a wise idea.)
Another idiot asks if it’s okay to publish a book with all of the following: Spelling errors, poor grammar, broken thoughts, slurred words, etc., because she wants it to be “authentic” to having had a stroke and wants the readers to “be her” because she had to relearn everything after the stroke. I understand that. I’m not ignorant, but by disagreeing with a group of professionals, she turned a conversation from civil to vicious. I said that I’d hire someone to collaborate with her (NOT a ghost writer, but someone who can make all of her thoughts cohesive since her thoughts are all randomized due to memory loss.). She made a lot of excuses for herself to the point where the words “That is victim mentality.” finally were posted. Her response was “I AM a victim.” She also said “I am the stroke.” No, you’re not. The stroke happened to you, it is NOT who YOU are, and by allowing yourself to keep on thinking that, you encourage the victim mentality instead of growing from this tragedy and allowing yourself to move forward and heal. Why else would you want to tell a story about it? While I empathize with her plight, no publisher in their right mind would allow that to be greenlit the way she intended to do it. I do not know a single editor that would let that slide. It would be nonsensical gibberish and no one would be able to follow it, unless, perhaps, it was only released as an audiobook. I finally had to say “Good luck.”, because while the conversation started out well, it was going nowhere fast and was about to get ugly. The moderator stepped in and deleted the entire thing. How sad is that? You pretty much know you’re causing problems when someone out-right deletes everything you just said and, knowing how things are now, probably booted her or gave her a personal warning.

It comes down to this: The older I get, the less I understand people and the less I want to understand people. The things that bother people, based on what I’ve seen and heard, are pretty unimportant, superficial things. The things that people allow to slide are actually pretty serious issues, and yet everyone wants to sweep that shit underneath the thickest rug possible. I have to be true to myself and sweeping things under the rug isn’t how I do things.

Life is long, hard, and oftentimes, lonely as hell. When you go to someone in search of advice, it is ultimately still your decision whether or not to take that advice. I wish people would stop coming to me for quality advice and doing the exact opposite in the end, but hey, that’s THEIR issue, not mine. I generally don’t ask for advice because I was raised to trust myself and trust my intuition, but there are far too many people who insist on spewing stupidity at me, as if I asked for their opinion or advice. They don’t understand that their words aren’t warranted unless asked for.

It’s very important to me to be my authentic self, but sometimes I have to walk away from the idiots because in the grand scheme of things, they all seem to enjoy their idiocy way too much. I simply do not have time for that.

Sometimes People Ask For Way Too Much

2014-10-19 Miss Poison Authors, Boundaries, Idiots, Poison In Lethal Doses, Respect, Stress, Things That Enrage Me, Unbelievable Crap, Unnecessary Drama, Work, Writers, Writing Editing, Idiots, Reading, Work, Writing

Here’s something important you all need to know about me. Above all else, I am supremely professional. However, if you’re antagonistic and you push my buttons right out of the gate, I will remain professional until the job is done, but I won’t ever be anywhere in the vicinity of nice ever again.

Some clients, generally the ones I don’t work with, want a LOT for NOTHING. I am doing a read-through. I was asked to make notes of corrections that need to be made, and I did that, in red. Since I wasn’t asked to edit, I simply provided notes. They were detailed. “This is missing a comma.”, “There is a spelling error.”, “Revise this for grammatical errors.”, “Look this over and add some necessary material. The sentence and/or thought is just hanging.”, stuff like that. Unless you’re a moron, that means you re-read the fucking paragraph and make the corrections. There are children that can follow these very simple instructions, why can’t you?!

I respectfully asked the client if he’d like the work back as I go through each file, and he said yes. I sent back the first file, which contained one chapter. ONE. I then receive a message hours later saying my notes were “cryptic” and that he’d like a “higher level of feedback”. Mind you, I’d only sent back the first chapter. It was fine and I provided feedback, but how much needs to be said about 6,000 words unless it’s really bad?

This was enough to make me want to say something vile and unprofessional. This made me want to say “You’re not paying me to do anything more than a read-through, yet I provided notes. Find your own fucking errors!” If I had submitted the entire book back and only gave 2-3 lines of feedback, that would be one thing, but I’d only submitted back a chapter, which he’d asked for. I included notes at the end and my thoughts. Sometimes, when you’re reading something new, you don’t have a lot of thoughts after a prologue or even after reading that and chapter one. Sometimes it takes 3-5 chapters before you feel like you know the characters and have a feel for the story. I don’t know a single author/writer that will disagree with me.

However, this son of a bitch pushed my buttons. I am sick, so I probably should wait until I feel better to deal with douche bags, but man, I hate idiots. If you’re asking me to do a job, I will do it thoroughly. It is certain that our styles may or may not mesh, but don’t disrespect me or act superior. You’re not paying me enough to give me attitude, and I will never take it, because I don’t give a fuck who you think you are.

Treat your editors, beta readers, and agents with respect. Don’t expect them to do every single thing for you, because it doesn’t work that way. The first time you treat me like your professional toilet cleaner will probably be the last time I ever work for you again, and you can put that in a pipe and smoke it!