I'm almost a millionaire. Also, Scottish. Despite the near obsessive writing schedule, I'm still pathetically behind on my word-count. It probably doesn't help that I'm handwriting it because college has made it nearly impossible for me to see an empty Word document without spiraling into a black hole of insecurity and despair.
I guess it's not that big of a deal. I actually rather like writing things out the "old fashioned way." It's like writing in code, because my penmanship could rival a doctor's signature. Sometimes, I forget that it's nearly illegible to everyone else, which has caused a couple problems in writing workshops during critique time. It may or may not have been a compliment when a professor called my penmanship "special."
I try to write in my downtime at work, but I've been there a week and my responsibilities are going from "a monkey on LSD could probably complete this task" to "we might need to call in a chimp." They're a little more challenging now, and I've had to get intimate with the printers in my life because of it. They haven't exactly been treating me well, though.
The printer at the office has about a dozen different drawers and is connected to another printer that handles our tickets for shipping. I spent at least an hour and a half entering in orders to the printer the day before, because it was acting up for most of the morning. It took it a while before it decided it was okay to print, and since it was such a big batch (and we weren't really pressed for time on the orders), I waited until today to deal with them...
Only to realize that the printer had crapped out over a dozen duplicate tickets, some of which were around 10+ pages in length. Apparently, "Okay, I'm going to work now" really meant "I'm going to print a ton of extra shit that's going to make you look stupid come Monday morning."
I enjoy jeopardizing your employment status and eating the souls of small children.
