This could also be called, ‘On not going in reverse.’
I’m still toying with feelings. Feelings are something I much prefer to avoid altogether. Shelve them deep and far away, where they cannot be accessed easily by chromatic, decimal or alphabetical system. I’m trying to file these…thoughts, but find the smile, the glimmer in his eyes, the gentle joking manner to be detrimental. That’s all about that. For now, at least.
Imagine how you’d feel waking up each morning with between one and a dozen bug bites. Gross, yes? Imagine a worse feeling, sitting and chatting online and feeling that creepy crawling that hasn’t left your skin for over five weeks and then you look down at the current itchy, hair-standing-on-end spot and see a vampire, tiny and full of it’s meals. Yes more than one.
Fuck this shit, I want out.
In happier pastures, where deer frolic and rainbows shower down winning lottery tickets, I have my first freelance writing gig since I decided that I wanted to be one who has freelance writing gigs. Isobel is starting daycare in nine days – the main reason being so that I could look for more writing (and well, cuz it’s easy, bookkeeping) gigs – going for six hours a week. And I’ve now got myself a job ghostwriting for about half of those hours.
The main goal being to build up to a nearly full-time income, from home or the office (aka Starbucks) by next June. August is when I’ve agreed to let the spousal support go, so I’ll have to replace that ‘income’ with real income. Get it? Forty percent of my ‘income’ will virtually disappear, so I’ve gotta make that up.
And if I’m not making it up every month, without fail, by June? I guess I’m looking at going back to cubicle hell.
This new gig? It’s 30% of that soon-to-be-missing ‘income.’ And the great thing? It’s so totally outside of my normal writing realm that I actually had to use my brain tonight, to write a fluffy, light-hearted, gay (meaning happy) article. And that can only make me better at this whole writing thing, right?
This post was brought to you by the Association for Insomniac Borefests Written Mainly to Get My Face Off My Front Page. [The irony is that I have five perfectly not too boring posts drafted that it never even occurred to me to use. Sucks to be you. For having to read this one, I mean. Not for being you. Cuz you? Have totally wicked hair.]
