One of Finke's many charms is the way she has treated her readership like her boss—she'll call in sick via a post, or beg for just a few more minutes to get her thoughts together on breaking news. And as any regular reader knows, she scarcely goes a month without going dark for a day or two for some reason or other, which she invariably explains on her blog in the manner of a harried writer trying to get an editor off her back: I'm down with the flu, I've got jury duty, this damn internet's not working, I had some bad dental work, I broke my hand.

We're all for writers taking time off. And we're in no way prepared to put our own work ethic up against Finke's. But ever since she sold DeadlineHollywoodDaily.com to Jay Penske's Mail.com in a reported multimillion-dollar deal that has her earning $400,000 a year, we've wondered how Finke's frequently erratic work habits would mesh with a real boss, who has investors to satisfy. So we've decided to keep an eye on Finke's "I'm out today" posts, to see what a $400k blogger can get away with.

Last Thursday, Finke wrote that she had been in the hospital by way of explaining a shortage of recent posts. We hope she's OK. Finke has written in the past that she suffers from diabetes, which may explain her frequent absences from blogging (though it hasn't hampered a long and active career that has included stints in Moscow and London for the Associated Press). She seems to have bounced back fairly quickly from her latest illness, with a lot of posts over the weekend.

To put Finke's salary in perspective, we've gone through her archives and put together a sampling—and this really is just a sampling—of her posts offering reasons for not being able to work. We hope that in her new, corporate environment, Finke will find a way to pace herself and accommodate a more predictable work schedule. Because we agree with this blogger, who wrote a post called "Why Hollywood Gets No Work Done" in 2006:

I was shocked to hear that Hollywood types were already leaving town for the July 4th holiday. It's bad enough you guys cancel four straight scheduled meetings with screenwriters. Or have your assistants book appointments six months ahead which you'll cancel anyway. And all without a twinge of guilt. But lately you've become Slacker Town.

Finke is no slacker—anyone who's been on the business end of her reporter's notebook knows that she is not afraid to put in the hours on any given story. But she certainly does seem to cancel a lot of appointments with her readers:

September 17, 2009

September 14, 2009

September 10, 2009

August 12, 2009

July 31, 2009

July 13, 2009

July 9, 2009

July 7, 2009

June 29, 2009

April 20, 2009

April 15, 2009

April 6, 2009

April 2, 2009

March 30, 2009

November 10, 2008

November 3, 2008

October 15, 2008

September 11, 2008

September 4, 2008

August 1, 2008

July 28, 2008

July 9, 2008

June 10, 2008

June 9, 2008

May 20, 2008

May 16, 2008

May 15, 2008

April 23, 2008

April 1, 2008

February 20, 2008

February 12, 2008

January 23, 2008

January 14, 2008

January 9, 2008

December 27, 2007

December 17, 2007

December 10, 2007

November 30, 2007

October 16, 2007

October 10, 2007

October 1, 2007

September 13, 2007

August 13, 2007

July 20, 2007

July 13, 2007

July 11, 2007

July 7, 2007

February 25, 2007

December 30, 2006

December 5, 2006

September 11, 2006

June 12, 2006

[Full disclosure: Your blogger's wife works as an editor at Finke's former employer, Village Voice Media, and occasionally edited her stories.]

A 35-year-old "Entertainment executive in Los Angeles" posted this listing on Barefoot Student, the already creepy-sounded job site for college students.

You are his dynamic, fun personal assistant. What does that entail?

Tasks: errands like drycleaning, corrspondence, reservations and such. Companion to events around town and sometimes out of town, Hostess at parties, social events and private dinner parties. Extra skills such as being bilingual, great hands for massage are a bonus! There is opportunity for travel, as well — work trips to Vegas, New York and Chicago at least once a month.

Non-smoker is preferred, but attractive young woman willing to escort him to Vegas is required!

"Evil Fucking" Insurance-Cheating "Bastard":

I was with the publication for 7 years while it steadily grew and prospered. We had a down year in 2008, however, and it coincided with yet another acquisition.

They had to save money, so they jettisoned me at the end of September, two days after my daughter was admitted to the hospital for another lengthy stay. I'm convinced that the outside insurance consultant that they paid to help us employees navigate the treacherous waters of Aetna-land was also paid to tip the bosses when an employee had high health care benefit usage. But to make things worse, they gave me no severance, arguing that I was a "new hire" to them, instead of an editor who grew that damn title into a 7-million property. Evil fucking bastard.

"my newest job is reading Gawker in my pajamas all day and getting
rejected by literary agents."

I have a journalism degree from NYU and three years of newspaper experience, including a very short stint at the Daily News last summer that didn't work out (that's a whole other story). This means I'm perfectly qualified to get laid off as a hedge-fund receptionist.

At my two-month gig through a temp agency, I watched analysts and traders freak the fuck out about Lehman Brothers and every subsequent turn of the market (examples: "Do I think the world is coming to an end? It's already come to an end and we're just picking up the pieces," "Let's do six hours of pregaming and relive our past glory," and "I've had it with this trading shit"). Then I restocked the candy
in the tiny front desk jar, made conversation about Smarties and got snapped at about mail sorting by from admin assistant who didn't even graduate from community college.

The hedge fund started liquidating its accounts and the woman who got me from the temp agency turned in her notice, but I still had hope that maybe, just maybe, I could fill that job during the final months
of the company, get health insurance and not pinch pennies anymore.

They started interviewing hot blonde temps for the job instead. By the way, I have dark hair. And that's when I learned of my demise in a Gmail chat window. One of the assistants led me to her desk to sign my
timesheet. As she signed it, my eyes fled to her computer, where I saw these words in the little Gchat box: "Let's use one of these girls to replace Kristie."

One week later, I got a call from the temp agency say that I just worked my last day there and that the company couldn't afford me anymore. Yeah, but they can still afford to hire hot blondes and company-wide bagels on Fridays, right?

Now, my newest job is reading Gawker in my pajamas all day and getting rejected by literary agents.

Sharing is caring and we'll all get through this together.

"So, I just got laid off again! Right before the holidays. Nothing really interesting about the layoff though, except that it sucks."

Good luck, comrade. Srsly.

Get Well Soon! Yeah Right:

I had been working for several months for a company that deliberately kept me just under full time to avoid having to offer me benefits. I got sick, and because I didn't have health insurance I didn't go to the doctor (and kept going to work). By the time I was finally dragged to the emergency room by a friend, my illness required a five-night hospital stay.

The day I got home from the hospital, my manager came to my house to 'check on me.' I was surprised at her thoughtfulness until I found out that along with flowers, she had also brought a severance check. I'm still paying off that hospital bill.

Black Saturday:

I was on a nasty project— five days a week on the road, working at home both weekend days. It was awful. The whole effort had broken down to the point where we had 7:30 am and 5 pm status meetings every day. It was an obscene way to live, and it had been going on for months. Meanwhile, everyone around me was dropping like flies. Then, I got that expected phone call for which I was still unprepared. "Can you come into the office tomorrow morning at 10?" I got the call on a Friday. I was brought into the office on a fucking Saturday to be laid off.

Like everyone else, it seems, it was the best thing that happened to me. I got a lucrative freelancing gig that lasted more than a year (and came to an end two days before Christmas with no notice ... yet another gem).

"Don't Cry. No, Really."

I got laid off last Thursday and I must say I've never been so happy in my life. They called me into the office (I work from home) and my boss saw me and burst into tears. She said that these are the "the toughest of times" - I thought "No shit!" What really was amusing to me was that I ended up consoling HER! She started talking about her long, sleepless nights wrestling with this decision, telling me about her kids worrying about he,r and how she was worried about her job and future with the company.

I just smiled, got up and gave her a big hug and reassured her that i would be OK. And that I had already accepted an offer from our chief compeitior and laughed that I had my letter of resignation with me! The tone oddly and quickly changed [after that]...

The King of Layoffs

As the recession started creeping in, I had just quit a touring rock band and went to work for The Man. This particular (very big) bank started having some serious problems that were very well-publicized. I got called into the office, was told to pack my stuff; they were sorry. Then I went to a much smaller, yet very well-known investment bank. Things got bad there and yes, my boss called me into her office and blah, blah, blah - you know the drill.

Six weeks of unemployment later I was at a major corporation. My manager asked to meet with me at the end of the day. Knowingly, I filled a shopping bag with my belongings and —with head held high—walked into the office, plonked the bag of my belongings on her desk. She just looked at it and nodded. I am either king layoff or the kiss of death for any company. Maybe I should apply to the Post next.

"Fuck You":

After nearly 3 years as a newspaper reporter, I finally took a week's vacation. On my first day back, my officemate called and said there would be a mandatory meeting of all editorial people in the main office.

I walked in, sat down in the crowded room, and noticed a very uncomfortable vibe right away. Then the executive editor said that all the part-time people (which included me) had been let go. After he stopped talking, I said, "I assume, then, that means me, also?"

Without looking me in the eye, he told me they had been unable to reach me at home, unlike all the other part-timers. Fuming, I reported to HR only to be told there was no one there who could delineate what would happen next. I was told to sit in a chair out in the main hallway and wait. Yeah, I was gonna do that.

I threw my security badge on the nearest desk, told them I wasn't waiting for anyone, and stalked out. An HR woman stretched out her hand to me and started saying, "Oh, I'm sorry..." I looked at her and said, "Fuck you." It was juvenile, I admit. It also felt good.

Crying And Drinking:

I was off work for jury duty. When I left the courtroom and checked my messages, there was a voice mail from HR asking me to call right away. I did, and the HR lady laid me off over the phone. She even cried.

So I go back to the courthouse and, when they called court back into session, asked for permission to approach the judge. I told him what happened. He and the attorneys were horrified and let me go from the jury. I went to the office and was accompanied by a security guard to my cubicle, where I packed up my personal belongings, while some co-workers sobbed quietly in their cubicles wondering when it would happen to them.

The others who had been axed had been gone for hours already getting hammered at a local bar.

"Best Thing That Ever Happened To Me":

I got laid off early this year after working extremely long hours through the holidays on an extra project that was unnecessary.

I was obviously shocked, and then had to sit there for an HOUR AND A HALF while the HR woman went through my severance package in inane detail (including the fact that my medical benefits were over THAT DAY).

Visibly shaken and now feeling tortured, I asked if I could please get my personal belongings (plus, I was a little embarrassed because I had sweaty gym clothes in my locker that I really don't want anyone to touch/look at), the HR goes "What? Do you really want to get your stuff now? After all this?" Um, yes bitch. I do.

Best thing that ever happened to me.

Dear Team:

A few months ago, I mentioned that we would be re-adjusting our business day to eight hours plus an hour for lunch, essentially aligning our work schedule to coincide more closely with that of our
parent company.

With the impending move on December 12th, that need is now here. Therefore, we will make the following changes in our work day:

Effective October 13, our standard business day will start NO LATER THAN 9am and wrap up at 6pm.

You have also heard for a while about new initiatives to grow our business. Increasingly, we will be calling upon you to champion these efforts, and our roles are going to evolve. We need to transition from a mere process-orientation into a strategic mode of operation. This is a fundamental shift in how we perceive ourselves—regardless of title or function.

For those who embrace these initiatives, certain flexibilities will come along with the new hours. In some cases, team members may come in early or work late. In situations that call for special consideration, simply work out the time with your manager. We will also allow you to work at home occasionally, with the understanding that you will work a full day and make yourself as available to your colleagues and
managers as you would at the office.

However, the decision for all of these changes will be at the discretion of your manager, and he or she reserves the right to deny the privilege based on need and performance.

...I hope you will embrace the direction in which we are going and help
us advance in this new environment.

As always, I am here if you have any questions.

Michael G. Desiato

Questions? Yeah, Mike, I have a gynecologist's appointment on Friday. Wait, sorry—meant to address that to Nick.

"Mr. Bennett says that he first heard U.S. managers complain about Munchausen-like behavior when he studied team dynamics several years ago. Employees at a Louisiana-based chemical company described a plant manager who concocted layoff rumors, then told his workers a few weeks later that he had saved their jobs.

Maria Copeland, an information-technology manager at media company Cox Enterprises Inc., tells a similar tale. She says a male colleague tried to turn her against a female co-worker a few years ago. The man told each woman that the other was working to undermine her, then called a meeting with their boss to improve their collaboration, according to Ms. Copeland. The women realized what was going on when they compared notes before that meeting. The collaboration problems disappeared after the man left the group, she says."

Lesson: we are all perpetually three-year-olds who need attention and positive reinforcement, especially if we're not getting it at home. Bosses: a hearty pat on the back and a "Good job, tiger!" every once in a while can't hurt. Everybody needs to be a hero once in a while.

• Food: Can we get some free food up in here?
• Shut Up: Dude, you are old and we already know how to do this stupid job, so please just shut up.
• Don't Sweat It: Don't sweat it, man. We got it all under control. Don't freak out.
• Money: Pay us more, why don't you?
• Work: It totally sucks. Nothing you can do about it. Sorry.

[Photo credit: Wire Image]

• Nikki Cox Is Scaring Me! [hollywoodtuna.com]

Working for a man is probably the only thing less fun than working for The Man. Both are probably going to end badly. But look: You're still trying, penning inflammatory columns to try and ramp up the Google Analytics score so you can get back into the career columnist game that just months ago left you abandoned and alone. Glad to see you've still got all that audacious hope! But here's the reality: look around. How many people do you really expect to die fully satisfied with their lives? One? Three? Now, what about the ones who are freezing their eggs. Do they probably have the worst odds of all of them? Yeah, like we discussed last week, a recession is coming. Everyone just needs to lower their standards. Life is pain! XOM

Want To Have A Baby? Now's The Time [Boston Globe]
Earlier: Want A Better Job? Stop Working Right Now And Get Your Nails Did

Their list of industries with problem drinking includes:

construction (drunk!)
retail (very, very drunk!)
leisure and hospitality (oh my, yes, drunk!)
agriculture (so drunk!)
real estate (drunk all the time!)
government (still drunk from last night, even!)
finance (almost as drunk as government!)

Strangely, the list does not include bloggers, heiresses, or holocaust deniers.

The Business of Nightlife [Forbes]