So, I managed to bilge the proofreading test that a FOAFOAF sent me last week as the first step for applying to Workman Publishing for a job.GODDAMMIT!
It’s at times like this that I wish I knew more profanity. I want to curse and curse
until the air turns blue and passing birds spontaneously combust and windows shatter and the very fabric of reality warps and tears.
Though on reflection that would probably make it even harder for me to find gainful employment, so perhaps not.
The really infuriating part, of course, is that the errors I missed are the sort of thing I’d ordinarily be on like white on rice, but I let nerves and time pressure push me into doing a half-assed job.FUCK.