Sometime Monday afternoon, sweating and shaking in bed, I had what I thought was an epiphany. It went a little something like this: You know what, Vanessa was right. I *am* exactly and only what I already am, too smart for my own good and too undereducated to get anywhere cool. And work mostly sucks, it�s just a fact. So I should give up on schooling on any kind and think of my IRA, and I should make my number one goal in life getting out of here and getting a job that pays better, with suckage of job and salary at which I�d be willing to do it directly proportional. Then I had a brilliant feverish flash of insight: Hey, when Vanessa quits her job in the summer to go to law school, I�ll ask her if she�d be willing to put in a good word for me to take it over. Since, of course, there would be no advanced-degreeing in the offing for little old me, and since in that particular instance the proportions would suit me just fine. But comes today the lousy news, straight out of Bastards HQ, that Vanessa got laid off, and I can�t help feeling like it�s an omen.

In any case, though, the number one goal remains the same. After I start feeling better enough that the multitasking kicks back in, it's all about job applications on the job for me. Anyplace that would hire me above a monkey level will work with me on the schedule that bends to fit in a science class, and if I find a monkey job that pays substantially better than Gastro does (actually a strong likelihood), well, I'll deal with it when I have to. Forward progress!

Oh, and speaking of the Against Bastards HQ Department: Things that didn�t make their way from the mail bundle to Dr. Blahblah�s Inbox today include (1) a renewal notice for his RNCC membership and (2) an invitation, on what purports to be Tom DeLay�s stationery, to "the premier Republican event of the year, the President�s Dinner, in Washington, on Wednesday, May 21, 2003." He would have gone, too. And, back to the subject of advanced-degreeing, if I may, at dinner on Friday night � which I misdescribed before and, shiver me timbers, turned out to be with a married couple from the East Side � Steve�s pal asked me what I did and Steve jumped in, supplying that I was in a state of employment flux just now. "What do you do when you�re not in flux?" inquired the married Eastsider pleasantly, and that is when Steve basically told them that I was a writer. He said, as if this were a quantifiably good thing, that I was a dedicated and prolific diarist (he didn�t elaborate and they didn�t ask), that my e-mails were the best he�d ever received, etc. It was some mighty fulsome praise, kids, from a guy who might be my boyfriend but who has never let that stand in the way of his delivering the unvarnished facts as bluntly as possible, can you hear my voice creaking with the strains of diplomacy here, and just like in a book I caught myself with my mouth open at the shock of it, though then I closed it because I am a charming dinner guest and charming dinner guests do not gape. I never knew he felt one way or another about my stupid e-mails. Has he perhaps found the diary in question, is he reading it right now? Ha ha ha ha ha wait that�s not funny. So also all weekend there was a little part of me wondering, Fuck, should I really and truly throw in the towel on MFA school forever? Maybe it�s true that I judge myself too harshly, if even such a tough customer can find something to admire in the haphazard wiseass e-mails I toss off without any eye to posterity. I shut that part up on Monday, I thought, with the auspicious appearance of the work-mostly-sucks theory and plan, but now, oh, oh, I don�t know. Oh, and Mrs. Eastsider counsels vociferously against going into teaching � she's going back to school, herself, for a certificate in usability studies.

But bwah hah hah I was so right about the changing-careers book by that industry tool Po Bronson. This is from industry tool John Markoff�s article in the NYT today, "Is There Life After Silicon Valley�s Fast Lane?" Several of Mr. Bronson's case studies are about people who found the valley's 24/7 relentlessness to be a "toxic environment." Tim Bratcher, for example, worked at Cooley Godward, one of the region's most prestigious law firms, but hated the pressures. He left Silicon Valley for Atlanta and ultimately turned to teaching law for satisfaction. Hey, that�s what I�ll do, I�ll quit Gastro and I�ll teach law! I wouldn�t have thought of that � thanks, Po!

Also from today�s reading is an AP wire report about the woman who had both breasts removed after a misdiagnosis of cancer that itself was caused by a lab mix-up. She�s suing the pathologist, who was quoted as saying, "There is no question I made a mistake," and the pathologist�s employer, for "more than $200,000." Doesn�t this figure seem on the low side? Especially since you figure there are going to be negotiations, and you don�t start with what you�re willing to accept? I�m baffled here.

I got spit on by a kid today. And I saw another kid wearing a t-shirt with a whole pack of cartoon characters I did not recognize and, printed above them in a comic-book-style font, "A Fat Abort." WTF?

I�m not sure there�s any future in the Steve thing. Maybe I�ll write more about that at some point, but probably not.