I almost titled this post “Broke, Sick, and Grumpy” but I realized that title wasn’t funny, and it was also all Negative Nan and stuff, so I changed it to the above, which is a totally non-SEO-friendly title name and not funny in the slightest. I’m not feeling overly funny today, but I’ve been neglecting this little corner of the internet for so long I felt like I should post something.
Continue reading Positive Words, In Place of the Negative Words I Typed First
So, I left my job at Bankruptcy, Inc. a little earlier because I had to go out of town, but then it turns out the reason I was going to go out of town went to a different, undetermined town, so I didn’t have to go. Being a bounty hunter is a mercurial job. Just kidding. I’m not really a bounty hunter. Yet.
Anywhoo. Instead of returning to the last week of a job with my tail between my legs all, “Can I come back to work to do stuff for you guys for a couple more days instead of taking some time for myself until my new job starts” I sort of just decided to chill out for a few days. I have some freelance writing to do, and I thought I could get my home office unpacked, get some stuff done around the house, et cetera. Cook some good meals. You know, be a Domestic Goddess who Writes Good.
What I was a little suprised to find out is that I’m totally mind-numbingly depressed. I guess it’s got something to do with watching a company die a slow death, and it being the end of an era, and all that stuff, but you’d think with two great part time jobs on the horizon, and the kick-ass classes coming up for grad school, that I’d be all full of positivity and enthusiasm. I guess it takes a little while, because so far I haven’t gotten diddly squat done and I keep nodding off like a herion addict or my grandma or something.
So I figure I need to keep myself busy. The only thing? Every time I stand up I get a head rush, and I convince myself that it’s far safer, since I’m home all alone, to sit back down on the bed and check Twitter to see if John Cusack has direct messaged me, because that would totally make my day. Not that he ever has, or knows I exist, but that would be pretty cool, so I should probably check. As long as I’m online, I might as well learn something on the TV, so it’s lucky that there is a marathon of The Scariest Places on Earth on the Sci Fi Channel, so I can learn all about scary places and the paranormal. Because that’s important. Then I start writing a blog in my head because Linda Blair (of Excorcist fame) is the host of the show, and in the opening credits she stalks into view through misty spookiness and she’s wearing a tight leather outfit and a cape-like overcoat, which is fantastic. But I don’t actually write the blog, because I’m thinking about how I should check my bank account, but I shouldn’t do that directly from Twitter, because the internet monkey thieves could trace my steps over to my bank account and wreak havoc (new havoc, not the havoc I inflict monthly). So I might as well check my blogroll, and see what the people that are better bloggers than me have to say.
I think you see my point. Not too productive. Of course, I only left the job yesterday, and today was Day 1 of a surprise vacation, so I guess it’s OK that I wasn’t productive AT ALL. Since I was crazy busy at work on Friday AND Monday, I guess it’s OK to take a breather.
Or I am a lazy hog-jerk. Whichever. I did eat a half can of cashews, a whole can of potato soup, a McDonald’s #2 with no onions and a Sprite, and now I’m fixing to eat some more. So at least I’m well-nourished.
So, now it’s Writing for Money late into the night, because you guys make me want to be my best.
OK, I know I just wrote about this, but I’m kind of cheesed off about it. I’m not supposed to write about it, because you’re not supposed to mention your, ahem, profit-getting units, and I have nowhere to vent this frustration. My mom’s all, “Honey, I think it’s a little ridiculous that you’re so upset about this.” And I’m sort of thinking that she’s right. What does it matter? I didn’t create this space as a way to make money. I created it as a place to ramble on self-indulgently and delude myself into thinking that would be entertaining to the general public. I just liked seeing how many page impressions I got per day. So maybe they’ll let me have that back.
I can see it now.
Me: Look, I didn’t mean to do anything wrong. Whatever I’m doing wrong? I’ll stop it. Just tell me what it is.
Google: You’re lucky we even let you keep your blog, you ingrate.
Me: Do you have to call me names? I already feel bad enough.
Google: There IS no bad enough, Ms. J. You’re lucky we even let you keep your blog NAME. We technically own it. Plus, all your content. We own that too. Actually, we own YOU. That’s right. We technically bought you from the government about three months ago. We could put you out of your misery at any time. And don’t think we won’t. We’re serious.
Me: Obviously, yeah. You’re serious. Listen, can I get an allowance?
