Spelling well is the best revenge

Several months ago, a large and ungainly copy job - a departmental guide - was unceremoniously taken away from me and re-assigned to TD* up north. Seems I wasn't finishing fast enough, but it took TD almost three months to finish.

After some painful weeks of plugging in 40 pages of illustrations, the manager of the job, who did NOT want it taken away from me, but had no say, asked me to take one last look at the copy. I sharpened up my red pen and went to work.

The most rewarding part of the enterprise is that TD misspelled some rather important words. Like the word "mortgage", the main subject of the guide. And she managed to misspell it twice, in different ways.

Some typos are much more fun to correct than others.

Other than being broke, and having no brick on one side of Chez Melina, life is not that bad. I have been invited to an antique motorcycle show later this month near Austin. Since it doesn't really resemble a Date (not much, anyway), I decided to go. I still cling to celibacy as if were the last pair of size 10N Ferragamos at the Neiman Marcus Last Call sale.

On a stranger note, my evenings are filled with odd dreams inspired by that night's TV fare. For example, after watching a documentary about hoarders, I dreamed that DD* had become a hoarder. I woke up feeling sad, though. Even though my current opinion of him is still stuck at Emotional Coward, I still miss him now and again.

* See key to characters at right.