Realizations

1.Clearly, today is not going to be the day that ends my employment issues. I just can't be arsed to look up job postings. I did buy a Writer's Guide yesterday, and a book titled, "A Faster Job Search." So far, the book pretty much confirmed that I'm just wasting my time and energy by applying for online stuff. It's all in who you know. Fuck that. I'll deal this weekend, I suppose.

2. I really do love being an honest to god journalist. This piddly little paying me next to nothing article is reaffirming my sense of self. Because the only agenda I have is finding out the story. It's been a long fucking time. I love my job, I really do, but the goal of my job is to tell good news, to couch not so great things in glowing terms. And it's nice to not have that agenda.

3. Far too much of the work I do during the week is not work that I get paid for. Bangs head on desk. That needs to be remedied soon, even though much of it is work I love.

4. I like having the stability of an office around me, the sense of order and structure. That defies all of my self-perception of my rebellious nature, but I'd prefer to think it means that I can still hate authority and yet get paid to use the resources of the man.

5. I love Jude's No One is Really Beautiful. It's a perfectly realized record. Nothing else he's done lives up to it, and in fact much of his other work sounds far too similar to things he's already done.

6. I can't wait for sdwolfpup to watch Dog With Two Bones.

7. I'm going through that typical post-fic let down of aimless wandering. I was far more invested in the Not Sex than I thought I was. I wander through one fic, shrug, wander into another, look blankly, stare at the farscapefriday topic with vague listlessness, pull open the Space Opera, shrug. This will let up.

8. I've read posts where people - including the fabulous queenofthorns who has maintained a series of fabulous photo essays that are sometimes the first thing I check for in the morning- talk about discomfort with reading/writing sex scenes. I, do not share that discomfort. I wonder if this means that I just don't care what y'all think I do on the occasions when I actually get some? Hee. Or if I just have a very healthy imagination and a distinct lack of shame or modesty.

9. I have no better advice for writer's block than to just write through it. Although my advice to crankygrrl tends to sound more like, "Just write the fucking thing already!" She knows I love her. But for me, it's just writing it out, struggling through it, getting too many words on the page, too many mistakes and missteps and assaults upon grammar and spelling. I can write forever. Sure, much of it's crap, but it's there on the page. This isn't a prescription for everyone, and yet I'm always surprised that it's not. These, folks, are the drawbacks of being an only child. It's hard to imagine other people's experiences as being so vastly different from your own.

10. It's Friday and I have a job to find, a book to edit, an article to write and dance class to attend, a birthday party to go to and students to teach. Ask me which part of this I want to do. Because in an ideal world, this weekend would be just mine - teenagers with Feldman, checking in on Mei and Jinx, writing that awkward moment in the sequel to Blue Eyes where J and A say goodnight, and go to their separate rooms because two cycles and a marriage and a coup do get in the way of getting it on.