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Friday, December 19, 2003

It's a good thing the weekend is here, because I really need to get some work done. (I need to sleep, too, but there's nothing rare or quaint about that.) The Boss was on the phone before I was even out of bed this morning, passing on to me the problems that keep him up at night. As if I needed one more worry to keep me awake.

He's anxious about getting paid by several people we've done work for. With good reason, too, because we did this work in 2001 and 2002 and have been trying to collect ever since. We've exhausted every legal avenue that we know of, and now (this morning at the crack of dawn) he wanted to call in an attorney for the avenues we haven't been able to find on our own.

But first he wanted me to look up several contract law clauses on the Internet, to find out what all the various filing deadlines are. I did, and I faxed him what I learned. We always do these things a little backwards. If we'd started by knowing the deadlines and working back from there, we might have been paid by now.

Anyway, I tried to get some work done but he kept coming up with more questions. Then there was a long, quiet period when I could have got something done but was too jumpy about being interrupted to start anything major. Finally, I couldn't wait any longer and called him back to see what was what.

Oh, he told me, we're not going to pursue this any further. The lawyer he talked to said it wasn't worth it. By the time we could collect anything, it would cost us far more than the amount we're trying to get paid.

Okay. Well, I guess that means all this anxiety and all this filing of forms and liens and stop notices has been an exercise in pointless busywork. Thanks for the buggy ride, as Mayor Shinn said to the librarian.

But I'm not bitter. Just tired. It's a good thing there's a weekend, for getting caught up on sleep and work.

10 December 2003

Low clouds in the distance.

I've been holding onto a check from one outfit. They wrote on the back of it that endorsement means we give up any future rights and claims on the contract. That's why I haven't deposited it, but now the Boss wants that money in the bank because he's decided the matter is closed and this is all we'll ever collect.

He told me to cross out the offensive clause, just in case he changed his mind. Then he backtracked. He said to cross it out unless I think I'll have trouble at the bank for altering the check. Deposit it one way or the other, he said, but don't tell him whether I've crossed out that wording or not. If he doesn't know, he won't lose any more sleep over it. (If he doesn't, neither will I.)

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My package (the one I've been waiting for) showed up today, a little before 2:00 pm. Two boxes, actually, and I tore into them like a six-year-old on Christmas morning. Everything I ever wanted was there, too - just like a six-year-old on Christmas morning. I even had one gift left over, a wholly age-inappropriate game that will be someone's birthday present in a year or two, instead of just another package to open next Thursday and then forget about.

Next Thursday! Whew!

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One year ago: The Next Wave
"Now it's fifteen years later, and I'm on friendly terms with both of them. I might be the only one."

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