Thursday, May 20, 2004

Causes of stress in my life. I really love the intro to Kelis' "Game Show" where she's talking to this kid who says "What's wrong, Kelis?" She sighs and says in the most fabulous, resigned way, "My man is just stressing me out." That's how I feel - although I have no man. Yesterday I got several antiTHESIS emails which made me really mad - one from Readings saying that the number of copies delivered did not match the invoices, which is just miscommunication between editors, and another one from Alex asking if I'd got copies to the Melbourne Uni and RMIT bookrooms yet.

antiTHESIS makes me feel like I'm dragging a millstone up a hill. I feel like I can't rely on any of the other editors to get publicity and distribution stuff done without me. I am also mad that the reason a lot of people give for not being as involved as I have been is that they're busy people. So by way of explaining why I'm so frustrated at hearing this, I thought I would list all the things I have on my plate at the moment.

Working three days a week at The Reader
Invoice for yummy mummies article and chase up why I haven't yet been paid for Neptunes and T-shirts.
Submit bogan article to SMH
Get broadband internet connection at home so I can work there
Need to get computer, printer (perhaps scanner, fax too?), talk to Guy about his computer

Do up CV for head of department to try and get position as honorary research fellow in order to retain institutional affiliation after thesis mark goes through
Make referees' changes to Michael Jackson non-verbal vocalisations article by end of May
Write conference paper on Hollywood hobby bands by mid-July
Decide if going to Critical Animals conference in Newcastle - pros: good for my project on analogue networks and databases; cons: rife with scary activist types
Work out abstract for CSAA conference, find out when abstract deadline is
Research and write book chapter on nineteenth-century pirates by mid-August (this necessitates reading unfamiliar early C19th fiction and familiarising self with Romanticism)
Start researching Afro-futurism - perhaps do up Neptunes article as journal paper?
Do up chapters of MA thesis as journal papers in order to establish self as expert in bogan field
Tout MA thesis around to more publishers. Talk to Di about this. Do up marketing proposal.

Get three new housemates
Get real estate agent to fix blocked sink (ASAP!), dripping tap, re-seal around bath
Get real estate agent to replace carpet and kitchen lino as they said they would do in March
Wash enormous pile of two-week-old dishes
Generally clean bathroom
Get vacuum cleaner that works and remove visible layer of debris from carpet
Get washing machine
Train housemates to use bin instead of hanging plastic bags from door handles
Get four dining chairs
Get phone that works and connect answering machine

Incredible Melk
Write songs in time for Monday's rehearsal
Start recording in early June
Photo shoot late May/early June and other publicity stuff
Fringe Festival admin
Organise website

Rectify fuckup with Readings invoices
Check if UNSW and Gleebooks orders were sent
Contact more Melbourne and Brisbane stockists
Do handover to next collective

It's the stuff that other people could help me with, but don't, that stresses me out the most. Like my house. My god! I'm not obsessive-compulsive by any stretch of the imagination, but I just can't bear the squalor! Like the dish stand-off that just lasts and lasts - there are now dishes stacked on the floor cos there's no more room next to the sink. Or the fact that the carpet is all wrinkled with breadcrumbs and other gross stuff all over it, and the vacuum cleaner doesn't work. Or the fact that nobody turns off lights when they're not using them.

I came home from work last night and it was so bad that I started calling up everyone I knew to have dinner with me, just so I could get out of there, but nobody would, so I went to the local pizza place, improbably called Papa Guiseppe's, and because I couldn't decide between pasta and pizza, I ordered this thing called a spaghetti pizza. It was a ham and cheese pizza with spaghetti bolognaise on top. I also got a longneck, Renée-style, from the local bottlo and sat down in the living room to eat it. I felt like a character out of He Died With A Felafel in His Hand.

Now perhaps you might understand why I feel so stressed, and why I get so frustrated at people who I perceive to have a lot less on their plate than I do now.

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