I've Got A Golden Ticket

My Dear Princess & Dear Fellows,

This is a belated birthday present from J-Bar, my lovely mother-in-law. I do not yet know if it is a winning ticket or not. But then neither do you. Let us pretend for a moment that it is. 

Today was annoying. My contract extension came through, and it is for the same rate as before, so I said shove it, or words to that effect. 

Smock was annoyed about this. "Why didn't you TELL me you weren't happy with your rate?" she asked.

I explained that I didn't do that because I told my agent who was supposed to tell her. That is how things are done, I added. I went on to say that if he failed to pass that on, it's hardly my fault. I WAS very explicit with him.

(I stopped short of adding, "Why didn't YOU tell ME that I'm earning about 10%-20% less than all my peers despite providing much more in terms of skills and experience??" But it was on the tip of my tongue.)

"Well now I have to start at square one with the paperwork," she said grumpily. "I'll have to speak to Bryce to get clearance," she sighed. She made it sound like speaking to Bryce was the same as retrieving the head of Medusa.

I think she was trying to throw a big snit to pressure me into saying, "Oh ssssssssure! Of COURSE I'll continue to get shafted just to save you some paperwork," but I didn't say that. Instead I told her I was in no rush, with a smile.

There is a bloody-minded, bolshy, Mad-Doggy* part of me that enjoys this sort of thing. If she wants me to stay, she will have to cough up. Either that or I'll be having a couple of weeks off in July.

Win-Win. I have a golden ticket. Tra la la la la la la.

S.

* Sorry Mad Dog. But it is most definitely you I channel at moments like this.