No, That Cable Goes to the Engine Blog

I am declaring myself officially over jet lag AND MA-related exhaustions. I have little choice.

Monday I start working at the Comic Carnival. It's bad in that it's a retail job that I worked before, so there's the feeling that I'm taking a step backward, but it's great in that it's work and coworkers I know I enjoy and can feed my literary addictions for cheap. Plus it's not so many hours that I can't do anything else. Hooray!

Plans are underway to liberate my mother's gym membership for my own ends. Don't tell her, she likes surprises. Looking after a friend's toddlers for a few hours makes for good exercise in the meantime, though, even with said friend there as well.

My resume (CV to the British audience) and portfolio are more or less polished up, so it's to me to hunt for those freelance jobs I pray exist here. As I hunt for these, I'll be editing some stories and hunting for places to sell them to.

I say all of this so that, knowing some people do read this thing, I'll feel extra pressure to actually follow through on it.

Incidentally, the eBay auctions end Monday, and it's looking like I'll see at least enough for that phone I need. One relief, anyway.

I am going to miss treating myself like a recovering patient. It's been, I suppose refreshing is the word, just relaxing and not pushing myself anywhere. Still, it's common knowledge I'm my own worst critic, and I've called myself a sloven do-nothing just one time too many. Now I have to show me that I'm a lying ignorant jabbermouth and CAN in fact do something with myself.

Too bad, as I was THIS close to starting a Netflix account.