Tag Archives: Office

My Dream Office

Me and my husband are moving. And if you’ve ever lived in Los Angeles and had to move, you know how much life is sucking for us right now. The stress of finding a new place has taken its toll but there is one beacon of hope guiding me ever so gently to the peaceful shores of… peace. And that beacon – dear reader- is the promise of my new office.

Right now we live in a two-bedroom with a king sized bed in the master and a full sized bed in the spare. The spare room has a tad bit more room (because the bed is smaller) and in that teensy-weensy corner of space, we managed to connect a shelf to the wall and put a big-ass computer on top of it. We scooch a chair up to this shelf and work on the computer, pretending that it’s a desk. Pretending we have an office. And pretending that we can get work done in this cramped up bit of space.

One day (a few months ago) while prepping the spare room for a video shoot, we had to take down the bed. And while the bed was out of the room, seeing how much space we’d deprived ourselves of, we decided immediately that an office would be in our future. It felt like that scene in Step Brothers where Will Ferrell enthusiastically exclaims “We can get so many activities done!” A new world had opened up for us. And from that point on, the clock was ticking until the moment we could be rid of that bed and replace it with a desk.

And now that day is quickly upon us and here’s how I’m thinking it’s going to change my life.

**Drum roll please**

It will give me the feeling of going to work again. As many of you know, I’ve quit my job. And there’s something about not having to wake up in the morning and be somewhere at a specific time or else you’re going to be fired or yelled at that takes the wind right out of your sails. I mean, at first it was cool and the gang. I’d wake up and stare at the ceiling in bliss. Stretch and roll over, taking my sorry ass right back to the magical world of sleepy-time dream-world land. And while these kinds of mornings will never get old for me, they’re not productive AT ALL. They usually lead to a day of playing catchup. I try to get into work mode, but find myself lounging on the couch with the keyboard on my lap, wearing a t-shirt and panties and fighting every instinct to just turn on the TV and catch up on Empire. And guess what? Lucious’s shady ass always wins.

So with this office space, I’m hoping I can jumpstart myself into “office mode.” Sure, I don’t have a commute anymore but that doesn’t mean I don’t have a nine to five. Yeah, I don’t have supervisors to answer to but that doesn’t mean I don’t have a responsibility to do my job in a thorough and efficient manner. And when I really think about it, I do have a supervisor. Myself. And if I can trick myself into following an unnecessarily stingy grocery budget (which I have for the past few weeks), I can surely create an arbitrary corporate schedule for myself to follow. And so with every waking moment, I plan out my days as if getting ready to start a new job. I anticipate waking up early and doing yoga. Taking my shower and doing my hair and makeup. Putting on my work outfit (nothing too formal) and getting to the “office” at nine A-M on the dot to start my workday. I’ll have my coffee on my desk and sift through emails, before reaching out to people and working on new projects, reading scripts, writing scripts, writing other things (blogs, articles, proposals, etc.), reaching out to new contacts and maintaining old ones.

It’s going to be glorious and I can’t wait to bully myself into submission.


Exodus into the Job Abyss

I’m leaving my place of employment and here’s the dealio. I’m feeling good about this decision but I don’t know that I’ve ever given y’all the details.

So here’s some things concerning my premature ejaculation…

from my job:



My last day is this Friday.


I’m leaving this gig because I’m overqualified. That’s prettymuch what it all boils down to. I could break down all of the little things that make me want to leave but every grievance, complaint, annoyance, mistake and/or confusion within my workplace experiences centers on the fact that I am overqualified to be doing what I’m doing.


My job is to help someone else to do their job. Again, I could break down my position and give you my official title and every single requirement but this is really another ‘bottom line’ element which everything else boils down to. There is not one thing that I do on any given day that is independent of my helping another person to achieve their professional (and many times personal) goals.

Which is totally fine…

…but that’s not what I want to do. And more importantly, I’m not gaining skills that could help me to get a better job.


Well, I’m glad you asked! You’re so considerate… we should really do coffee sometime.

I’m leaving this job so that I can pursue personal projects. My goal is to produce short films, feature films, web series, hell… maybe even a TV series. I want to do my own thing.

And that is where ish gets scary.

Because despite the fact that I followed my dreams up to this point, I’ve always done what I’d like to call “asking-for-permission-ass” jobs. (An asking-for-permission-ass job is pretty explanatory, I think. Just imagine a grownup version of the game “Mother May I.”) Anyway, I’ve spent 10 years ‘paying my dues’ and asking Mother if I could take a few bunny hops forward only to be told, “nah Peggy… but you can stay your ass where you at tho”. The shit is old. And I can’t imagine spending another year not having a job where I can work from home. Or take a client to lunch. Or fire someone.

So here I am.


First of all, I ain’t doing shit yet. I could fail miserably and come crawling back to my current job, begging for a chance to be in the building again.

Just as – you know –  a janitor.

I don’t need my old job back, Marie, I swear. I just need a job. Any job ya got!

**Picks up mop**

See, look at this. I’m mopping the floor. Ain’t too proud for this, Marie. I know it’s a carpet… just… come on! Work with me here.

So don’t copy offa me because I have no idea what I’m doing. Anywho, it really helps that my hubby is working again. Otherwise, my other go-to would be to live in my car. I think about living in my car quite a bit, actually, dunno why.

But my hubby is taking on the brunt of our bills because he knows that I got the goods and will probably be a pretty decent Producer. We’re going to rely on his paycheck and thank God he’s been able to find more freelance work recently because, I planned on quitting no matter what.

So I’m ready to give this entrepreneurial life a try because I’ve done everything else and can’t fathom spending another day wondering “what if?”

Trapped in a Group Chat Part 1

Almost two years ago, I worked a temp job and made some new acquaintances. Innocent enough, right? Well little did I know that the people I’d acquainted with were good friends with each other.

Fast forward to a few months after the job ended. I was invited to brunch by my former colleagues and then invited into a group chat to keep me abreast of future brunches.

Why not? I said.

This will be fun! I said.

So now I am mired in an endless whirlpool of mundane texts.

At first it was okay. Someone would post something and I’d respond with a “Cool!” or “Congrats!” or whatever was appropriate.

My phone would beep a few times and I’d check the chat to see what was going on.

Next thing you know, it’s beeping every three seconds. I look down at my phone and see 12 or 13 unread messages. If I went to the  movie theater or some other place that required me to silence my phone, I’d turn my phone back on only to see fifty-something unread messages.

On top of this, it didn’t take long for me to lose interest in the chat conversations in the first place. For example, the chat has turned into a kind of career-centric circle jerk of encouragement. And while I enjoy encouragement (and would probably enjoy a good circle jerk if I had a penis and was into that sort of thing) the career stuff is annoying after a while.

It’s an endless “keeping my fingers crossed” for whoever has a job interview that week. And my chat group might as well be called the “Professional Job Interview Gang”.

Here’s an example of what it looks like:

Person #1 – I got a job interview this week!

Person #2 – Congrats!

Person #3 – Congrats!

Person #4 – Congratulations!

Person #5 – Oh my goodness! That’s wonderful! Where at?

Person #1 – Don’t congratulate me yet!

Person #4 – Is this at the same place as before?

Person #2 – Is it at Corporation Company?

Person #1 – It’s at Conglomerate Industry

Person #3 – We should celebrate!

Person #4 – I thought you interviewed there before?

Person #1 – No it’s not at Corporation Company. I didn’t get that job.

Person #5 – Their loss buddy!

Person #3 – Oh boo!

Person #1 – Thanks guys! This is actually round 2. So we’ll see how it goes.

Person #2 – So wait, you didn’t get the job at Corporation Company? I thought they liked you? 😦

Person #1 – Nope. But onto better things!

Person #3 – Guess what everybody?? I have an interview next week with Business Incorporated.

Person #1 – What? That’s awesome!

Person #5 – Wait, what happened to Career Enterprises??

Person #2 – Congratulations!

And the cycle continues. It was as if I was being punished for my honest attempt at extraversion. It got to the point where my phone was beeping and vibrating so much that it threatened my damn marriage.

Fortunately, I discovered the mute button last week.

However, my complete “text withdrawal” from the group created slight confusion and disruption. The natives got restless. And to be honest, how they even knew I wasn’t actively texting is beyond me. It’s not like I offered anything substantial to the group outside of a few “Congrats!” and “Fingers Crossed.” I never told them about my job interviews or networking experiences even though I’d actually had a few.

Either way, someone said “Where’s Peggy?” and the jig was up. So my solution was to occasionally dip into the chat with a “Congrats!” so they’d know I was still alive and then delete that chat right off my phone – for the sake of space.

HOWEVER . . . the fact that I don’t actually read the texts got the best of me two days ago. All I know is that one day I saw a message that said “Peggy has been removed from the group chat.” The part of me that cares about not burning bridges was curious as to why. I did the mindless participation that was required of me, didn’t I?

It’s funny I didn’t care about the group until I got kicked off. But being kicked off was really weighing on my spirit. So I called a person from the group to ask what’d happened.

They laughed and asked me if I was serious.

I told them yes.

They invited me to dinner.