To wit: things have gotten so unbeareable at work, both in terms of customer interactions as well as general principle, that I've decided to follow sclerotic_rings' lead and begin the job hunt once again. It's been three years since I've attempted it, and already I'm reminded of why I stopped, not the least of which are those great positions that require you to apply via an impossible-to-use online application form in which the job isn't even listed.
Still, I'm in a place I wasn't in three years ago: I'm in a stable, well (enough for now) paying position I'd have to set a VP on fire to get fired from, and I have time enough to look for something I actually want and would enjoy rather than taking the first place that interviews me. In the end, it's all about options: between looking forward to talking to the same idiotic, arrogant tools for the next thirty years, and trying to do freelance copywriting for people who either stand me up at meetings or want me to add completely new elements to a sales letter as part of my free "revision", I need an alternative that doesn't have me shopping around for a cricket bat.
In other, more slightly pleasant news, my contributor's copies of Blood Blade and Thruster arrived today. Shiny. As usual, don't read it for my stuff. Instead, check out the letters of Earl B. Morris, which is a concept so demented I wish I'd thought of it myself. It's a fannish, written equivalent of a phone prank, actual letters he wrote around the craziest of premises, such as writing to an online medieval weapons catalog about the best weapon to use against a neighbor who attacked him with a yardstick for practicing his tap dancing, or the letter he wrote to Governor Ahnold about the proposed tax on materials used to make RPG miniatures, which would hamper his professional miniature painting career. Weird, wild stuff.