"Admission for two adults and two tiny terrorists."

[bizarreoptimism]

Today is my eighth day of work in a row.

Luckily, I only have to stay there until about 12:30, and then I can come home and collapse.

But still. Eighth day in a row.I would not be so bitter if they paid me enough money to actually live on, y'know

Comments

[bizarreoptimism]

Nothing "happened" to any of it. The past year and a half has seen me doing (and completing, and submitting) more writing than I have done (and completed, and submitted) since my undergrad days; and with my resume finally finished, I've actually applied to some job openings. These are great strides towards achieving my future goals -- in fact, some of my future goals have, to be fair, already been achieved, when it comes to writing (and which I'm very proud about when I'm not so damned physically and emotionally drained) -- but at the same time, not much about my day-to-day situation is going to change until things get published or new job offers come my way. And, to be blunt: things still aren't going to change until the latter comes my way; my chances of ever being able to support myself with my writing alone are slim to none (most authors, even the ones with decent sales, can't quit the day job). And jobs just SUCK, sometimes.

So, I mean ... things shall blow occasionally for awhile yet. I think it's part of being in your twenties, honestly.