Day Two: High-phenation

I guess it’s technically been about three days since I’ve had a drink, but what difference does that make?

Surprisingly — a lot. I’m not one of those raging alcoholics you see on TV who has the jitters when he goes hours without a drink, or has to pop an Anabuse to keep from drinking from the bottle, or can’t get up in the morning without an eye-opener. In fact, I’d say all my drinking tends to occur after 2pm.

Well, admittedly, today I couldn’t peel myself out of bed until after noon. I really had no will to even get out of bed, except for the fact that coffee started to sound tasty. It could have something to do with last night.

Nope, not a drop of booze or sleep-fucking Irish Car Bombs were to blame for my late slumber. Instead — a hyphen.

The publisher of the water-gardening magazine for which I slave 40 hours per month (it’s hardly slavery, but it’s for a piss-poor pittance, nonetheless) asked me if I would write up some rules for a bullshit contest that she and some of her pond-freak (“PF”) friends had been blowing their collective loads over for months. I threw 150 words together, and I thought it was fine until she sent it out to all her PFs. Within an hour, one of them responded with a complaint about my “over-usage” of hyphens. I’d used the phrase “50-word write-up,” which is completely correct as written — however, a bit awkward, I’ll admit. But “50-word” absolutely has a hyphen as a modifier, and “write-up” is how that word is spelled every single time. After sending a placating reply-all email explaining that I’d take a look at it before the final copy was generated, my publisher replies to everyone and says that it was, in fact, the final copy. I defended myself in a private email to her, and she basically said, “Just fix it.”

I reworded the phrase to read “a write-up of 50 words or less” (SHOULD BE FEWER, but apparently LESS is more acceptable these days), and I also removed a hyphen from “first-annual contest.” I swear I’d seen that phrase hyphenated before, but a quick search on Google led me to believe I was mistaken. I maintain that “first-annual” is a modifier and should be hyphenated, but whatever. Fuck it.

I didn’t get a reply last night from the publisher or the PFs, which was a good thing. I left my phone on the other side of the room for the rest of the evening, stewing in a syntax cloud on the couch. I got SO worked up. My thought process grew more and more extreme as I lay there, from deciding I’d quit after this issue was finished… to declaring that this bullshit wasn’t worth my time… to realizing my time wasn’t worth shit anyway, because I don’t have a real job… to coming to terms that I’m unqualified to edit a pond magazine… to lamenting that I’m completely worthless — with no talent, no job, no plan and no hope.

It was a mess. I remember realizing what a black hole I’d dug myself, but I festered in the melancholy anyway.

I slept about 12 hours, and like I said before, I’d have stayed there longer were it not for the thought of coffee… and possibly going for a martini this afternoon.

The fiancé talked me out of it, of course, but I sat on the couch until about 3pm until I felt like eating anything. That’s not like me, at all. I talked myself out of walking to the liquor store at least twice today, with the fiance’s help. It’s now 9pm, and I feel like I just woke up. I’ve been more or less stoned since about 4pm, so at least the energy is low. I dread the cabin fever that tomorrow will bring, though.

There were a few emails today from the PF group, randomly praising us for our good work and exclaiming how wonderful the magazine team has become. It really was unsolicited and uncalled for, but it came at an eerie time. The last guy mentioned going “whiskey-sipping” with another guy in the group, to which my publisher responded and encouraged us all to go out for some “whiskey-sipping” tonight.

Thanks, boss. That’s exactly what I needed to think about tonight.

That, and how the phrase “whiskey sipping” doesn’t need a fucking hyphen.