lame-asses, morons and mediocrity everywhere

I got an e-mail today from one of the many editors I work with in response to an e-mail I had sent to said editor about a story I was working on.

Two months ago.

What the fuck? And it was so lame and nit-witty: "My, where does the time go? So sorry it took me a while to get back with you..."

A while?

I considered printing it and hanging it up for all the world to see, but I refrained and instead forwarded it to one of my like-minded indignant comrades with the usual rant: "What the fuck? I wonder how much ______ makes to take month-long vacations more than once a year and fly to New York and all over hell's half acre only to end up writing what amounts to seven inches of copy once a month or so???? " The rest of the time said editor sits and stares at the PC or goes out to lunch for three hours. And it just makes none of the usual sense. Said editor is not young, hot, or well-connected and cannot possibly be screwing anyone let alone anyone who could insulate said ed. Maybe ed. is in the witness protection program. Or maybe the senior eds. have forgotten ed. is still on staff and never told payroll. It's insane. What's worse is that it is standard.

Another editor wanders in at 10 a.m., works until, oh, around noon, leaves to go running or cycling, comes back, eats lunch, showers and changes, maybe pops in to an editorial meeting then leaves at 3 p.m. to pick up the kids at school. Never comes back. Until the next day at 10 a.m.-ish. We figure said ed. puts in about 10 real hours per week. Just got promoted, by the way. There are also a bunch of writers in the "very special story of the year club." That means they write one a year. Maybe.

Again, I say, what the fuck?

My employer pays more people shit-loads of money to sit on their asses and do nothing while the lowly staffers and correspondents/freelancers do the bulk of the writing. That's if there is still room after they run all the wire stories no one cares about.

I guess I sound shrill and bitter now.

My friend just left me a mumbling whispered voicemail something to the effect that committing murder in the newsroom might be a fun afternoon activity. Glad I am out of the workplace more often than I am in.

What the fuck indeed.