Why did you go into business for yourself, if you couldn't handle it?

So I'm basically screwed this month.

Packaging design was winding down for client A. All that was left was details like correct UPC bar codes and contracting internationalization (not as bad as contracting syphilis, but close). So, trying to be a smart project manager, and seize opportunities, I built a project plan with Client B for deliverables due in April - requiring about 85-90% of my work time. Signed off - wham, bam, thank you ma'am.

Then on the last friday of march, all of a sudden client A decides to totally start over from scratch with new packaging. Oh, and because of retailer commitments, they all have to be done by the end of April. No questions as to whether this project was doable, or if my schedule could accommodate that. They even had the cojones to ask for a web site in conjunction (sorry, no). The massive amount of changes and revisions, and the finality of the deadline also means that three meetings a week are required. They also need each version of each package to be mocked up, folded and taped together.

The crackling sound you hear is either the maw of hell ripping open beneath my feet, or the sound of my skull cracking from intense pressure. Take your pick.

I know I shouldn't be such a whiny bitch - because I hate people who whine about their pathetic problems. Here's a revelation, Giuseppe, - nobody cares about YOUR problems, because they've already got their OWN problems. People who care about you - they don't actually care about your problems - they care enough about you to put with listening about them. but every person has their limit. Kind of like why "Over There" failed as a series. Nobody wants to watch a show about war in Iraq, when there is already on going on in reality. We business fat cat geniuses call that "redundant efforts". If you aren't a genius business fat cat mogul titan of industry, you can't use that phrase. I shouldn't even be posting it - they may we'll revoke my fatcat card, and the dues are non-refundable.

So you can see, I've devolved to typical Giuseppian fractured chains of thought. I'm getting a little whiny, and a little punchy. But it's my blog, so deal or click away.

Actually, let's not be so antagonistic. As a peace offering - here is a youtube clip of my favorite arcade game ever. Thank god for youtube. You know how much its sucked trying to describe crystal castles, and not have people get it? Moderate to intense suckage.

As a testament to its superiority, it used a scroll wheel, was trimetric-projected like Q-bert, and the main character was a wizard bear named after a Bentley. That's ballsy. Moderate to intense balls.

I wish I had a scroll wheel in my chest - like Iron Man's glowing disc.

Oh yeah, right - the video...