Well, let's see. I took my Pet First Aid class this morning (in case I pursue the dog tending career), then tackled the test article for the latest prospective employer. Was going to do that yesterday, but got caught up in the near-ream-of-paper proof job also due Monday I got from what's left of my current employer.
I rather enjoyed putting the test article together, but worry that I'm missing key facets of their oh-so-particular style guidelines somehow. Will check again tomorrow, just in case.
Am at the point where I don't really care what they think. I've written a good, solid, informative article, and if it's not their idea of good/solid/informative, well, we won't work out. That's okay.
Part of me thinks this "real" job pursuit is not what I should be doing, but I don't think I'll throw in the "real" job towel until I've been looking for six months.
Next month, in other words. That's a bit scary, truth be told.
The near-ream-of-paper proof continues, and I'm in the home stretch--just four chapters to go. Of course, then I get to fax it.
That might take most of the morning, come to think of it. Or should I do it when I get back from Cambridge, still a little wired from The Studio?
Yes, I have a comedy show tomorrow night. Hard to imagine what exactly I'll have in the way of inner resources by then, but one never knows. Adrenaline can work wonders on a sluggish soul. Hope I have the nerve to try my "Lezzies and Trannies and Fags, Oh My!" line. If I can figure out how to work it in.....
Now it's time to prep the next chapter of my proof, then toddle off to bed. Though I don't often find myself thinking such thoughts and it worries me a little, I'll be so damn grateful when this weekend is over, you have no idea.
Wishing my life away? No, mother, not really. More like, Wishing my deadlines were met. That's different.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment