I do not like the Zodiac.
I specifically do not like the Greco-Roman Zodiac, which is what most people are talking about in America when they ask "What's your sign?". And I specifically do not like it because, whatever they protest, 99.999999 of all people give the wretched thing some weight, even though (1) it is so vague as to be utterly useless, and (b) it was invented by the Fathers of Western Civilization, and they were very insistently the FATHERS of Western Civilization, and the only indicator of my personality at birth that they would have bothered to notice would have been the fact that I was female, and therefor my horoscope for life would have read "Today is a good day to do whatever the man who legally owns you says! Or you're going to Hell, which granted you pretty much are anyway, because we have a very downbeat cosmology, and you'll never be a hero, Fe-Male, but you will go to some special hell for disobedient girl children. Assuming females have souls, the forum's still out on that. We've decided you don't have enough teeth, though! So in conclusion: watch your mouth, toothshort wench, and wash our dishes."
And then I would have been exposed for being sickly.
I will not even START on the Chinese Zodiac. *
I figure, if I'm going to be judged by an arbitrary standard, it should at least be an arbitrary standard based on the culturally agreed-on weirdness of the modern culture where I live, instead of the weirdness of a bunch of moldy old dead guys who didn't even know what chocolate tasted like. Something like:
Winter Crocus (the Optimist)
January 1-February 28
Born to a time of new beginnings fueled by the fading edges of a sugar rush, the Crocus brings optimism, resolve, and a willingness to try new things for at least a month or two. Those born in the sign of the Crocus make wonderful planners and idea people, but are often not so awesome on the follow through.
Great at planning vacations, but don't let them drive.
They are fantastic politicians.
or
Bottle Rocket (The Celebrator)
July 1st- August 31st
Bottle Rockets know the sheer fact of their existence makes them the most interesting thing in the world, because what, grilling is that much fun? Fantastically entertaining, charming, and cheerful, unless you ignore them and let them get bored, in which case they will go off like the Fourth of July and wreck the place.
Also, do not get them wet.
and of course
Fusebox (the Fighter)
February 29th
Neurotic and high strung, people born to this sign react oddly to the simplest questions and comments, like "So when's your birthday?" and "Isn't that confusing?" and "Funny, you don't look like you're five years old, hyuck hyuck".
Yes, these designations are daft and unfair. They're also easily remembered and match the current calendar. And they have the added benefit of being completely unimportant! Truly, a solid companion to the newspaper advice columns, in which the local advice mavens remind us weekly not to eat paste, even though paste is tasty. What do they know, anyway? Ahem.
So, what's your story?
*I actually like Celtic Tree Zodiac(1) quite a bit, but no one knows the Celtic Zodiac. Alas!
** I AM a natural born inferior, of course, but we can none of us help not being beetles.
***Yawns are actually a way of transmitting more yawns. This is Science Fact, and an experiment you can do yourself! Yawn in a crowded room and watch them spread. Then give generously to Yawn Prevention Research, which is funded exclusively through my Etsy Shop!
(1) I'm a Holly.
Showing posts with label blog carnival. Show all posts
Showing posts with label blog carnival. Show all posts
Thursday, April 15, 2010
Friday, September 25, 2009
All About ME! In Watercolor!
The ever fun Etsy Bloggers Team is having another carnival! Unfortunately for me, all the recent carnivals have been photo-based. Now, shop images notwithstanding,I have an innate mistrust of photographs, at least as applied to people. The problem is that people think photographs are accurate, and thus complete. In fact, photographs leave out almost everything important almost every time. I can't get behind the idea that you'll know me better just for seeing a photo.
Also, my camera is broken.
But my scanner works! So, here is collection of things you would never know from a mere photograph:
Notice that you have now also learned that I have abysmal handwriting, and that I am far too trusting of very cheap paper. Try getting THAT from a Polaroid, hah!
Ahem. Off to look at the blogs of people whose cameras have not deserted them.
Also, my camera is broken.
But my scanner works! So, here is collection of things you would never know from a mere photograph:
Notice that you have now also learned that I have abysmal handwriting, and that I am far too trusting of very cheap paper. Try getting THAT from a Polaroid, hah!
Ahem. Off to look at the blogs of people whose cameras have not deserted them.
Friday, July 17, 2009
Hot Dog Time!
There are many things I would not know if not for the internet. Blogging, in particular, has brought me news of a great many things that anyone not desperate for material would find inconsequential to an almost staggering degree. I feel like a newspaper columnist!
For instance, did you know right now we're having some sort of hotdog..awareness...thing? It appears to be true! Now, I have nothing against hotdogs. I do not hold with the baffling snobbery that says it's great to eat the ass-end of a pig, but not the lips. And since I can actually read an ingredients list, I know that most hotdogs contain exactly what an average pork meal would anyway, i.e., pigmeat, spices, maybe a little starchy binder. The Jungle was a long time ago, folks, we get meat in our meat these days. At least in America.
In fact, hotdogs were an essential part of my path to culinary maturity. Tis true! Hotdogs, you see, are safe to trust to a young child who might not have entirely grasped the concept of heat-based hygiene yet. While most people eat them straight or on a bun, I was taught the wide legacy of hot-dog based white trash foods, like beans-n-wieners, hot dog pasta, and the never-again-to-be-spoken-of hot dog salad. Hot dogs broadened my horizons and kept me off the streets.
Yes, there are those who sneer at hot dogs--even those who would ban them-- because they're a cheap and commonly popular protein source, and we can't have that. But to heck with them--when they've eliminated the evils of school-lunch "salisbury steak", then perhaps we can talk. Until then, step away from the dogs. For without hot dogs, what would we eat at spectator sporting events? What could we grill on a moment's notice on sweltering hot summer days? What would be embedded in Jello Salad in old cookbooks, causing us all to have momentary but severe concerns about the existence of just and loving gods?
And most importantly, without hotdogs, how could the Texas State Fair have been the birthplace of that most perfect stick-food, the corndog? Answer: it couldn't. And then the Texas State Fair would not be maniacally devoted to promoting fried madness. And we would probably have had to cede the most lunatic food competition to Minnesota or some forsaken land where "lutefisk" is a concept. As it is, we can claim to deep fry Coke, so we're at least in the running. Thanks, hot dogs!
For instance, did you know right now we're having some sort of hotdog..awareness...thing? It appears to be true! Now, I have nothing against hotdogs. I do not hold with the baffling snobbery that says it's great to eat the ass-end of a pig, but not the lips. And since I can actually read an ingredients list, I know that most hotdogs contain exactly what an average pork meal would anyway, i.e., pigmeat, spices, maybe a little starchy binder. The Jungle was a long time ago, folks, we get meat in our meat these days. At least in America.
In fact, hotdogs were an essential part of my path to culinary maturity. Tis true! Hotdogs, you see, are safe to trust to a young child who might not have entirely grasped the concept of heat-based hygiene yet. While most people eat them straight or on a bun, I was taught the wide legacy of hot-dog based white trash foods, like beans-n-wieners, hot dog pasta, and the never-again-to-be-spoken-of hot dog salad. Hot dogs broadened my horizons and kept me off the streets.
Yes, there are those who sneer at hot dogs--even those who would ban them-- because they're a cheap and commonly popular protein source, and we can't have that. But to heck with them--when they've eliminated the evils of school-lunch "salisbury steak", then perhaps we can talk. Until then, step away from the dogs. For without hot dogs, what would we eat at spectator sporting events? What could we grill on a moment's notice on sweltering hot summer days? What would be embedded in Jello Salad in old cookbooks, causing us all to have momentary but severe concerns about the existence of just and loving gods?
And most importantly, without hotdogs, how could the Texas State Fair have been the birthplace of that most perfect stick-food, the corndog? Answer: it couldn't. And then the Texas State Fair would not be maniacally devoted to promoting fried madness. And we would probably have had to cede the most lunatic food competition to Minnesota or some forsaken land where "lutefisk" is a concept. As it is, we can claim to deep fry Coke, so we're at least in the running. Thanks, hot dogs!
Thursday, May 21, 2009
Blog Carnival: Summer Line
First off, if any commenters still want to join the Halloween PIF, there's room for ooooone more. Just leave a comment in the post under this.
Ahem.
I am in grief, because I missed the last Etsybloggers blog carnival. Alack, because it was about fairy tales, and if you like hearing me ramble (and if you don't, why on earth are you visiting my blog? Rambling and occasional sketches are all I offer here!), well, you are grieving too, because there is seriously a hundred years worth of prattling to be had off fairy tales.
But this carnival is, conveniently, about my New Stuff for the Summer * and my new stuff for the summer is apparently going to be heavy on the fairy tales! Yay! In fact, check out these early sketches:
Oh boy, doesn't that look promising! Hah, I kid. Early sketches always look like someone kicked muddy sticks on a page. Mine do, anyway. Maybe yours look like Degas layouts, I don't wanna know.
Anyway, can you guess who they are? I bet not, because that's a rough sketch, and it looks like mud! But in the stage it's at now, that's a really rather pleasing composition of Snow White and Rose Red.
I always liked Snow White and Rose Red a lot better than just the Snow White story. True, it's missing the wonderfully wicked Stepmother, and the disturbing fact of the dwarves, but it replaces them with an evil gnome, a talking bear, and sisterhood with axes. Better deal all around, and that's before we even get to the color contrast. The Grimms and their translators did some fantastic things with very basic language, and that's coming from someone whose favorite authors are mostly in the grand Dickensian tradition**.
Anyway, I seem to be on a kick illustrating the stories of my childhood. I don't expect I'll be doing a lot of the Disney-famed stories-- they aren't the interesting ones, anyhow. But The Girl With Golden Hands? Brave Little Tailor? Mother Hulde? Oh heck yeah. I'm getting itchy sketchin' fingers just thinking about them.***
There's also going to be a new set of clays in my shop, with a little more potential usefulness. Over on this blog, there's going to be, well, prattling about fairy tales, some con stories, and not a few photos, if all goes as planned. And sometime-- I'm not saying when-- a great big enormous summer sale! So stick around, this'll be the best summer ever at Caramakes!****
*Well, it was that or birthday stuff, and my birthday stories are kinda depressing.
**Tell me more about the bottle on the windowsill! Exactly what shade of green is it, and how does this reflect the nature of society, again?
***Dear Disney: Unless you're willing to have the mutilation scene in full glory, leave Golden Hands and Mother Hulde alone. Thank you.
*** Also the second summer ever. So it's an easy promise to keep.
Ahem.
I am in grief, because I missed the last Etsybloggers blog carnival. Alack, because it was about fairy tales, and if you like hearing me ramble (and if you don't, why on earth are you visiting my blog? Rambling and occasional sketches are all I offer here!), well, you are grieving too, because there is seriously a hundred years worth of prattling to be had off fairy tales.
But this carnival is, conveniently, about my New Stuff for the Summer * and my new stuff for the summer is apparently going to be heavy on the fairy tales! Yay! In fact, check out these early sketches:
Oh boy, doesn't that look promising! Hah, I kid. Early sketches always look like someone kicked muddy sticks on a page. Mine do, anyway. Maybe yours look like Degas layouts, I don't wanna know.
Anyway, can you guess who they are? I bet not, because that's a rough sketch, and it looks like mud! But in the stage it's at now, that's a really rather pleasing composition of Snow White and Rose Red.
I always liked Snow White and Rose Red a lot better than just the Snow White story. True, it's missing the wonderfully wicked Stepmother, and the disturbing fact of the dwarves, but it replaces them with an evil gnome, a talking bear, and sisterhood with axes. Better deal all around, and that's before we even get to the color contrast. The Grimms and their translators did some fantastic things with very basic language, and that's coming from someone whose favorite authors are mostly in the grand Dickensian tradition**.
Anyway, I seem to be on a kick illustrating the stories of my childhood. I don't expect I'll be doing a lot of the Disney-famed stories-- they aren't the interesting ones, anyhow. But The Girl With Golden Hands? Brave Little Tailor? Mother Hulde? Oh heck yeah. I'm getting itchy sketchin' fingers just thinking about them.***
There's also going to be a new set of clays in my shop, with a little more potential usefulness. Over on this blog, there's going to be, well, prattling about fairy tales, some con stories, and not a few photos, if all goes as planned. And sometime-- I'm not saying when-- a great big enormous summer sale! So stick around, this'll be the best summer ever at Caramakes!****
*Well, it was that or birthday stuff, and my birthday stories are kinda depressing.
**Tell me more about the bottle on the windowsill! Exactly what shade of green is it, and how does this reflect the nature of society, again?
***Dear Disney: Unless you're willing to have the mutilation scene in full glory, leave Golden Hands and Mother Hulde alone. Thank you.
*** Also the second summer ever. So it's an easy promise to keep.
Friday, March 27, 2009
In Which I Take Something Seriously
Hey, kids! Know what month it is?
No, not that one.
Not that one either.
No, it's Frozen Foods month!
This makes me happy. The other history specializations going on this month- and indeed, the way history is generally taught--offends me on an academic level. An accurate accounting of the human past would not consider the work of a handful of powerful men to be "real" history, with everything else shunted to the side! Generally, these are little theme park versions of a single social movement in a culture's past (Suffragettes! Potato Famine! Civil Rights!) so that historians can get them out of the way and get back to the REAL business of discussing Men Killing Each Other in Manly Fashion.* And everyone knows this is unfair and wrong, which is why Special Interest History Months exist anyway, but rarely does any real effort get made to change the underlying teaching structure.
But Frozen Foods month is so bizarre, so unprompted by any real social unease, that it's actually worth noticing. It points the way to a better, more accurate way of considering human culture, one that takes focus away from the battles and the coronations and puts it on the things that really matter: the endless little inventions, made by mostly forgotten humans over every day of every millennia of our existence, that have made things better for the humans of their day, so they have the breathing room to make things even better, and so on. It's the little things adding up that carried humans across every continent on earth--and even farther.
Don't believe me? Quick, what's more important to scheduling your day:
(1)Alexander the Great caused Rome some problems.
(2)The sacking of Lindisfarne
(3)Bleeding Kansas
(4)Dinner is in the freezer when I get home
That's what I thought. I acknowledge that the US, as a whole, is a rather future-oriented culture, in that we're doing well to remember last Tuesday. But even in cultures that really nurture their ties to their past, even people who hang on to ancient grudges like they're a good pair of boots, well, folks gotta eat. And wear clothes. And like as not, write down messages in some way. And all of that is made possible not by conquest and battle, but by frozen foods, and new kinds of plant hybrids, and innovations in looms....
So here's to frozen foods month. May it help everyone learn to see our history, not as a grim march of battles and treaties, but as the shared web of ideas it really is.
Now excuse me, I'm gonna go make dinner.
Other nifty things too often overlooked:
The Red Cross-people at their best, when things are at their worst
Social Workers--much maligned, little rewarded, but you know all those people "someone" ought to help? These are the someones.
Peanuts!--They changed the American South. They can be eaten in every course of the meal. They don't even need refrigeration! Find out about one of the awesomest crops ever to be domesticated.
*I find Men Doing Stupid Stuff In A Manly Fashion highly entertaining, mind you, but that's why I have Ninja Warrior and Man Vs. Wild. It's fun, but it's not History.
No, not that one.
Not that one either.
No, it's Frozen Foods month!
This makes me happy. The other history specializations going on this month- and indeed, the way history is generally taught--offends me on an academic level. An accurate accounting of the human past would not consider the work of a handful of powerful men to be "real" history, with everything else shunted to the side! Generally, these are little theme park versions of a single social movement in a culture's past (Suffragettes! Potato Famine! Civil Rights!) so that historians can get them out of the way and get back to the REAL business of discussing Men Killing Each Other in Manly Fashion.* And everyone knows this is unfair and wrong, which is why Special Interest History Months exist anyway, but rarely does any real effort get made to change the underlying teaching structure.
But Frozen Foods month is so bizarre, so unprompted by any real social unease, that it's actually worth noticing. It points the way to a better, more accurate way of considering human culture, one that takes focus away from the battles and the coronations and puts it on the things that really matter: the endless little inventions, made by mostly forgotten humans over every day of every millennia of our existence, that have made things better for the humans of their day, so they have the breathing room to make things even better, and so on. It's the little things adding up that carried humans across every continent on earth--and even farther.
Don't believe me? Quick, what's more important to scheduling your day:
(1)Alexander the Great caused Rome some problems.
(2)The sacking of Lindisfarne
(3)Bleeding Kansas
(4)Dinner is in the freezer when I get home
That's what I thought. I acknowledge that the US, as a whole, is a rather future-oriented culture, in that we're doing well to remember last Tuesday. But even in cultures that really nurture their ties to their past, even people who hang on to ancient grudges like they're a good pair of boots, well, folks gotta eat. And wear clothes. And like as not, write down messages in some way. And all of that is made possible not by conquest and battle, but by frozen foods, and new kinds of plant hybrids, and innovations in looms....
So here's to frozen foods month. May it help everyone learn to see our history, not as a grim march of battles and treaties, but as the shared web of ideas it really is.
Now excuse me, I'm gonna go make dinner.
Other nifty things too often overlooked:
The Red Cross-people at their best, when things are at their worst
Social Workers--much maligned, little rewarded, but you know all those people "someone" ought to help? These are the someones.
Peanuts!--They changed the American South. They can be eaten in every course of the meal. They don't even need refrigeration! Find out about one of the awesomest crops ever to be domesticated.
*I find Men Doing Stupid Stuff In A Manly Fashion highly entertaining, mind you, but that's why I have Ninja Warrior and Man Vs. Wild. It's fun, but it's not History.
Sunday, February 8, 2009
Madness! I have Madness!
My brains are hurting, and my blog has suffered for it. I'm sorry, blog!
But the blogmind is having its revenge through One World One Heart. Have you heard of it? If not, then I am sorry, for lo, I am passing the curse on to you.
OWOH is a massive, massive blog giveaway carnival. I mean 911 blogs massive.
It wasn't that big when I started following it. I saw it linked from some friend-blogs, and thought, oh fun, a giveaway trail! New blogs to read! Shinies to win!
And then the voice at the back of my head, the stupid one, the one that I think must have been a competitve athlete in another game session (a MALE competitive athlete) said: Hey, let's go to every blog on the list!
Have I mentioned lately I have dialup?
Did I point out that there over 900 blogs in this caravan?
Whimper.
But I'm not giving up! I may pass out and forget when I am on a regular basis, but I never give up! I just break down, it's different. And more annoying. Giving up would make more sense. But I'm halfway through, so hopefully I can quit being stubborn soon, and get back to being productive.
Anyway!
I'm posting stuff up on my Etsy site, at least--like for instance the unfinished version of this Cephalady:
to explain why I love the Precious aka my Cintiq 12WX.
See that picture? It's a neat idea, on sketch paper. With cruddy inking. It's the sort of picture that says "look, I had a neat idea!". And with most of my ideas, that's as far as I would ever get, because transferring them to a real media meant either tracing with carbon (at which I am fail) or copying, cleaning up the concept art by hand, laying down a clear medium on a good work surface, and then painting it, and hoping it all came out ok. Just prepping took hours, and I have very few ideas that are THAT good.
But now? Scan, retrace, color, all in one go. Takes..well, embarassingly less time. And there it is, all ready to print and listed up! Go look and see how cool it is now!
Check back later this week, when I explain how to wear a corset! Or something. Now, back to the OWOH...
But the blogmind is having its revenge through One World One Heart. Have you heard of it? If not, then I am sorry, for lo, I am passing the curse on to you.
OWOH is a massive, massive blog giveaway carnival. I mean 911 blogs massive.
It wasn't that big when I started following it. I saw it linked from some friend-blogs, and thought, oh fun, a giveaway trail! New blogs to read! Shinies to win!
And then the voice at the back of my head, the stupid one, the one that I think must have been a competitve athlete in another game session (a MALE competitive athlete) said: Hey, let's go to every blog on the list!
Have I mentioned lately I have dialup?
Did I point out that there over 900 blogs in this caravan?
Whimper.
But I'm not giving up! I may pass out and forget when I am on a regular basis, but I never give up! I just break down, it's different. And more annoying. Giving up would make more sense. But I'm halfway through, so hopefully I can quit being stubborn soon, and get back to being productive.
Anyway!
I'm posting stuff up on my Etsy site, at least--like for instance the unfinished version of this Cephalady:
to explain why I love the Precious aka my Cintiq 12WX.
See that picture? It's a neat idea, on sketch paper. With cruddy inking. It's the sort of picture that says "look, I had a neat idea!". And with most of my ideas, that's as far as I would ever get, because transferring them to a real media meant either tracing with carbon (at which I am fail) or copying, cleaning up the concept art by hand, laying down a clear medium on a good work surface, and then painting it, and hoping it all came out ok. Just prepping took hours, and I have very few ideas that are THAT good.
But now? Scan, retrace, color, all in one go. Takes..well, embarassingly less time. And there it is, all ready to print and listed up! Go look and see how cool it is now!
Check back later this week, when I explain how to wear a corset! Or something. Now, back to the OWOH...
Friday, October 10, 2008
Day Jobs, the Having Of
It feels...weird to be posting without a sketch. How will I function without artsy goodness to hide behind? Oh, wait, I have a meme. Day saved. Thanks, Etsy Bloggers!
Regular readers of this blog (all four of you) may have noticed a seeming discrepancy in my daily narrative. How can I be seriously disabled and still talk about my day job? That, I can answer in one word:
Nepotism!
Ok, it's not exactly nepotism; I got my job on the strength of my training, on my qualifications, on the basis of total inability to work more than 10 hours a week outside the home!
I did find out about it from my mom, though.
And she has since been promoted to be my direct supervisor.
Ahem.
My actual supposed job is testing center assistant. Basically, I proctor at the local community college. When I found out about the job, the office was *almost* fully staffed. They needed another person oh, about 10 hours a week. Weird hours, but not impossible ones.
Turns out it is near impossible to find a person with at least an associates' degree, willing to work 10 hours a week with no real hope of more, with no conflicting schedule requirements, who isn't a student.
Unless you're willing to work blue.
Blue badge, I mean- the color of "handicap" in the US. You'll see it at all the parking spaces up near the front, where, believe me, you want us spazzy crippled types to go.
Employers, even of hourlies, often don't consider people with noticeable disabilities. Let me tell you, employers, especially of hourlies, you are missing a gold mine. We're desperate like few legal citizens are: desperate to prove what we can do, desperate to have even a little income, desperate to feel part of the community, desperate to GET OUT OF THE HOUSE BEFORE I SNAP AND PAINT THE WALLS WITH MUSTARD.
Seriously, it had been two years. I was going all Charlotte Perkins Gilmore. I needed that job. Not the money, though I won't lie, the money is nice to have-- I needed a JOB. And my boss needed someone to work 10 hours a week without being bitter.
Bitter? The job is pretty much Stuff I Love. I have a high-speed internet connected computer, get to see a few dozen people in the day,most of whom I chat with, and spend the rest of the time yakking with my mother or my coworkers. It's pretty darn awesome.
Of course there are some rough times, especially at the end of the semester. We get very busy then, and being very busy is hard on my fizzing brain. And easy job or no, my brain is a pile of electrified pudding, and holding it together enough to be in public wears me out. I miss work sometimes, and I miss work sincerely when that happens. No one could be happier to have a clerical job.
I'm the sort of artist who needs a day job; the forced artistic down time and change of scenery makes creating easier later, and encourages me to structure my time. And I'm the sort of worker who needs a lot of time at home, lest I be taken to the ER. So here's to making a living, and the things we need to live; may they overlap as often as possible!
Regular readers of this blog (all four of you) may have noticed a seeming discrepancy in my daily narrative. How can I be seriously disabled and still talk about my day job? That, I can answer in one word:
Nepotism!
Ok, it's not exactly nepotism; I got my job on the strength of my training, on my qualifications, on the basis of total inability to work more than 10 hours a week outside the home!
I did find out about it from my mom, though.
And she has since been promoted to be my direct supervisor.
Ahem.
My actual supposed job is testing center assistant. Basically, I proctor at the local community college. When I found out about the job, the office was *almost* fully staffed. They needed another person oh, about 10 hours a week. Weird hours, but not impossible ones.
Turns out it is near impossible to find a person with at least an associates' degree, willing to work 10 hours a week with no real hope of more, with no conflicting schedule requirements, who isn't a student.
Unless you're willing to work blue.
Blue badge, I mean- the color of "handicap" in the US. You'll see it at all the parking spaces up near the front, where, believe me, you want us spazzy crippled types to go.
Employers, even of hourlies, often don't consider people with noticeable disabilities. Let me tell you, employers, especially of hourlies, you are missing a gold mine. We're desperate like few legal citizens are: desperate to prove what we can do, desperate to have even a little income, desperate to feel part of the community, desperate to GET OUT OF THE HOUSE BEFORE I SNAP AND PAINT THE WALLS WITH MUSTARD.
Seriously, it had been two years. I was going all Charlotte Perkins Gilmore. I needed that job. Not the money, though I won't lie, the money is nice to have-- I needed a JOB. And my boss needed someone to work 10 hours a week without being bitter.
Bitter? The job is pretty much Stuff I Love. I have a high-speed internet connected computer, get to see a few dozen people in the day,most of whom I chat with, and spend the rest of the time yakking with my mother or my coworkers. It's pretty darn awesome.
Of course there are some rough times, especially at the end of the semester. We get very busy then, and being very busy is hard on my fizzing brain. And easy job or no, my brain is a pile of electrified pudding, and holding it together enough to be in public wears me out. I miss work sometimes, and I miss work sincerely when that happens. No one could be happier to have a clerical job.
I'm the sort of artist who needs a day job; the forced artistic down time and change of scenery makes creating easier later, and encourages me to structure my time. And I'm the sort of worker who needs a lot of time at home, lest I be taken to the ER. So here's to making a living, and the things we need to live; may they overlap as often as possible!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
Posts
