Tag Archives: work

The Status Quo

Haven’t checked in with me in a while? New to NERdom? Simply wondering WTF is up? Well, things have been happening. Sort of.

I know a lot of pregnant people. This is new for me. Very excited for them!

New Years Resolution: Wear jewelry everyday, because, man, I gots a lot.

I dated a guy. (I think “dated” is the right word, but I never really know all the old/new school meanings.) This was new for me, too. Short Story: Still Single. [Long Story: I don’t think it worked out, least of all because he called me weird a lot and sort of told me I’m bipolar or schizophrenic and we had few things in common, but more because we were always on edge around one another. It wasn’t easy. Or comfortable. It didn’t click. At least that’s what he said the same night he actually admitted to liking me. I don’t know.]

Should be working out. Am not.

I got a new job! I told you a little about it before. Unfortunately I’m still trying to wrap up my old job, meaning right now I’m working on five different magazine issues. FIVE. It’s insanity. Worse, though, is that my new boss just announced she’s retiring. Remember this time last year when my old boss got moved? Now my editor is announcing her retirement in less than a MONTH after hiring me. I’m really pretty frustrated with her, but more terrified at how I’m going to survive until she’s replaced. As if I wasn’t questioning my decision to take this job already. Jeesh.

Moving up the sorority volunteer line, too. Lived at the house for a couple weeks. Might be becoming a pretty active adviser. Eh.

Got wireless Internet back after not having it for a month. #Winning

Life post-PB is liberating.

Volunteered at a high school debate tournament for the first time in a couple years. Felt dumb. So all things as usual there.

Going to be happily rejoining the lawyer book club just as soon as I can, and I am still going strong with the PB Book Cult and the sorority quarterly club. Goal: 30 books this year.

Finally, and unrelated: This clip which makes me think of this post’s title.

The world is a mess and I just need to rule it. 

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My First Grey Hair

This is it. I’ve had plenty of blonde, and I’ve had strands washed out at the bottom but still dark on top, but I haven’t had a from-the-root GREY hair until today. Look at that little guy, only about two or three inches long.


Given the fact that hair grows roughly half an inch a month, I’d say that means this dude started about May. You know, that time when my boss was on maternity leave and my whole world turned upside down and my job responsibilities became a seriously unachievable joke and then all my friends started getting married and my bank accounts dried up.

I know, right? I’m 27 with (a) grey hair. I can’t possibly understand what caused it. But welcome, old age. I happen to like silver, which is an accent color at the wedding I’m in this weekend. Bonus!

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I’ve officially joined my company’s way of life. Like so many greats before me, I sign everything with initials now. I even risk it by leaving out my middle initial, since two of the other three have left.

Y’all better know me. I run this show!

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The worst issues of my life, the autumn-of-this-year magazine about concepts for rooms that revolve around water is finally


Sent. Gone. To the printer. Dunzo. Not coming back until it’s glossy.

Time to focus on celebrating a great friend’s wedding!

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Long time, no _____

chat. see. talk. word. fun.


Been busy, guys. Remember when my boss left and I was in panic mode? Well she’s back and I’m stuck under the bus I now live under for all the problems we’ve had the last 12 months.

Why yes, you’re right, that’s not how long my boss was gone. It was only three. Yet somehow it’s imperative, right now, to discuss a plan to fix all the troubles from the last year. And they all involve me doing my job poorly. Not just me, but I’m always part of the equation. The dead relatives, newborn babies, cancer patients, other magazines, long-gone bosses and other factors are irrelevant. Let’s focus on how we can change what K does.

Luckily, it ain’t no thang in my book. I’ll keep working 13 hour days when I’m not at PB. And not even complain. I’ll just eat antacids for breakfast and live off caffeine like I have been.  And then when an undisclosed person says things like, “That’s nice, but it could have been a lot better,” while insinuating that I produce subpar content s/he is sad we put on newsstand, I’ll whip out some gem–like I did yesterday–that proves if they gave me 15 seconds instead of 5 seconds to actually do my job, I could produce all the best content. Because I’m really fucking smart. And I know what they want.

But I only get five seconds. So keep dreaming, MC. I’m gonna get paid for lame shit that you’re still going to publish. What a world.


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Keeping myself company


photo 2I’ve been working a lot of early mornings and a few weekends, what can I say.

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Even when I’m not in the office


Can’t run, can’t hide!


Snappin’ photos in Nashville

I’m glued to my phone. 

Had anyone taken unintentional photos of me in NOLA they would look the same. With different shoes. 



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Shit Got Real

A couple weeks ago the higherups announced that my boss, the associate editor on our titles, is moving to a new title that was in desperate need of an editor. We knew it was coming, but even so, it was a shock to our three-tiered system. Like the kind of shock that could induce early labor. Literally. Not only will she be out by the end of this month, but my title editor will be on maternity leave by the beginning of April.

What does that mean?

If you can do math, you realized our three-tiered system lost two members, leaving one tier: me. The least qualified, least experienced, least anything on the team. FOR THREE MONTHS.

Making Plans with the Crew

master planning

Now, we’ve spent the last two weeks in a full-on panic. Actually, they have. I have just ignored every one of my responsibilities. Fuck around while you can, right? It’s hard to tell you what all is being done without explaining all the work that goes into a magazine, which would bore the shit out of you. Suffice it to say, it’s way more work than you or I ever imagined (and I actually work there). Yesterday we had a come-to-Jesus meeting. A what’s really going to happen at the end of next week, and again a month later, and again three months from then.

The result is that my plate is going to be come a platter. It started as plate. A humble, work-filled plate. Next it becomes more of a plate and charger. See, we hired someone to fill in with the extremely time-consuming stuff while the EIC is on maternity leave. So while she’s in the office, I have three months to really get my shit together on three issues of my magazine (plate to charger). Maybe even work a little ahead on the other two issues of the other magazine. But once my title editor is back, it’s game on to the platter. We’ll be planning and producing four issues of two different magazines, plus planning our issues for the next year, and my workload will skyrocket because I will be taking on a lot of the responsibilities that the maternity-fixer will be doing in the interrum.

Oh yeah, and somewhere in all that I’m going to Nashville for a week and New Orleans for a couple days for work. And most likely moving out of my apartment.

It’s all terrifying and I refuse to admit it. Denial is the happiest place on Earth.

The next happiest place on earth: HOW CUTE IS MY CUBE?

The next happiest place on Earth: HOW CUTE IS MY CUBE?

Everyone keeps saying what a great opportunity it is for me. And yes, it is. I will be doing things I never would have had the chance to do with a full staff. Expanding my network of writers, managing more things, and actually learning about the part of the magazine I currently pretend doesn’t exist. Plus, I can work my ass off for a year or two and possibly get a title increase or pay raise! Yahoo Corporate America!

“But, Kristina, what about wanting to move? I thought this was the time?” you say. You speak my language, NER reader. The truth is, I’m stuck here–unless by some act of god the greatest job ever opens and they hire me–until at least July, and probably until next February. The career benefits, I hope, will outweigh my desire to try something new. The location will continue to remain convenient for the weddings I’m in this fall and for going home to see my family. I am grateful. The location will also possibly continue to sort of suck, produce no mens, and make me bored out of my mind and wishing I was living the glamorous life in anywherebuthere. But maybe by the time there’s an opening for me to leave, I’ll have figured out what I want to do, where I want to do it, and I’ll have all these fancy new skills to flaunt.

Please pardon me, friends, if I suck writing the next six months. Suck at reading. Suck at killing it on the 26 list. I’ve already started working later at night and more on weekends. And I’m still truckin’ over at the ol’ PB.

This truly is a not exactly ready moment of the utmost extreme. Probably the biggest since I left Tech. Actually, probably since I decided to go to Tech.
Come, adventure with me!

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