Fuck You, Pay Me – Oh Shit. Work! – Paparazzi Magazines Cropped and Ready for Garbage

Fuck you. Pay me.

That should be my attitude.

I’m listening to this Creative Mornings from San Francisco by Mike Monteiro after reading the blog of Max Dubler about stealing photos.

This is the video.


Coffee coffee coffee!

This coffee is WEAK!

And it was expensive.

It’s not bad in flavor, but it’s just really weak. And I threw WAY more coffee beans this time. I’m going to try French Press next, because as drip coffee, it just comes out as colored water.

No bueno.


The Donald Trump shitstorm is still going. That is just some amazing shit.


Fuck you!

Pay me!

Before all of this… I should set my values.

I am a cheap whore.


My main problem is that I’m 31 but in my mind, I’m 13. I’m just a child. Who would pay me?

I mean, I spent a lot of my time yesterday watching GDQS2017.

….

GDQS2017 = Games Done Quick Summer 2017.

Yep. Wasted a few hours watching Zelda speed runs and Mario 64 speed runs and even started watching the FFVII speed run.

FFVII = Final Fantasy VII.

Come on. That was nerd 101. You knew that… right?


“If you know how much something costs, stand up confidently and tell them.”

That’s something I need to start doing.

And it goes something like this.

$100 north of the border to get me at the door (first hour). Half that for the rest of the hours.

$50 south of the border to get me at the door (first hour). Half that for the rest of the hours.


That sounds fair.

And I’m still a very cheap whore.

But that’s what I’m willing to work for. My value is probably higher. But for now, the more work at that price, the better. Once I get more clients… then I can raise the prices. Right?


Hmmmm

Emails about photoshoots!


I should get busy.

This word vomit distracts me way too much every morning.


Emails emails emails!

About writing and more photo shoots. With the boss man.


And I’m hungry. I need to work out. It’s hot as balls out. I still have no cash in my wallet because I haven’t had a chance to go to the ATM.


Let’s talk about yesterday real quick.

My girlfriend canceled her lunch date with her co-workers. So she came home early, brought a bottle of wine, goat cheese, and a baguette. Then she started making pasta.

It was thick and delicious. A bit more creaminess would have been appreciated it by me. But she doesn’t really like cream much.

After dinner, we watched Jeopardy while she chose a movie on Netflix. She chose a 1993 Woody Allen movie called Manhattan Murder Mystery. Half an hour into the movie and she wanted to go to bed.

She was in bed by 9 pm.

Again… the schedule is all fucky.

She wanted me to go to bed with her, but I wanted to finish the movie and finish what I was working on.

I was working on silly shit. But I have finished and I have reduced clutter in my life by a lot.

Yep. I finished clipping all the paparazzi magazines. It looks something like this:

Now I need a nice folder for it.


Fuck that’s a lot of magazine prints.


Fuck. Emails work work work.

I’m lagging behind when I thought I had all the time in the world and no photo shoots this month.

Turns out I have a bunch.


And here I am thinking this day was going to be going on the internet, working on writing, and looking for more photo gigs.

At least is still early. Yet I still need to workout, shower, breakfast, etc.


Yep. Yep. Lagging behind.


No time to edit pics of the pasta. Pictures didn’t come out great either.


Fuck this heat.


Coffee coffee coffee coffee coffee.

Work work work work work.

Work out?

Is what I should do but I get distracted trying to get to 1,000 words in here when there is not much to say.


Alright! More things added to the whiteboard. And one with a real sense of urgency.

Emails sent.

Time to work!


I feel like as soon as I publish this I’m going to think of more things to say and I’m going to regret not making it to 1,000 words. I have to write around 2,000 words about something else. So I should get to that.

Shit. I should get to work. Then I complain about money. How am I going to make money if I don’t work?!

Then I say there’s too much food on my plate and instead of eating it, I watch games done quick summer edition.


Fuck am I a walking contradiction.

Also, I changed the name of the WiFi in my house.

It’s stupid, but now the WiFi is called No-Password.


Sigh.

I thought it was going to be a relaxing day, instead, I’m rushing to do things. At least is still early. But my girlfriend gets off work soon. And then it the day sort of goes downhill from there.


Imma… shower and go have breakfast somewhere and start working outside.

I need a fucking Macbook or something. Sometimes I can’t work sitting in my own apartment.


FUCK FUCK FUCK.

Fuck you. Pay me.

…. I guess first I should do some work.


 

 

 

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2 thoughts on “Fuck You, Pay Me – Oh Shit. Work! – Paparazzi Magazines Cropped and Ready for Garbage

  1. “girlfriend gets off work soon. And then it the day sort of goes downhill from there.”

    This is rude towards her man, what’s up with that. Girl works hard. Can’t be blamed for being sleepy after waking up super early to have a good life with you. Psh.

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