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kittydesadeNow I remember why bread with a lot of seeds and nuts in it drives me crazy. Some of these seed or nuts or whatever they are look like the eggs of a particularly unpleasant creature. Eew. I know they're nuts or seeds or whatever, but... they still look not quite right.
Moving day fast approaches, now that I've got living arrangements squared away. I'm still not sure what ... I'm just not sure. There are, as always, a few ... what's the phrase from Aladdin, a few provisos, a couple of quid pro quo. Nothing unreasonable, and it gives me an excuse to get my ass in gear. But I still feel just generally wrong about mooching off of people. Never mind that I mooch off my mother all the time, that's my mother. That's acceptable to do. This is different.
But I really don't want to leave. I don't want to move back home, because I know that if I do move back home I won't leave. And I don't want to do that. I want to actually get out, go somewhere, do something, live somewhere outside the family bubble. My mom, my grandfather, my uncle, and one of my aunts all live in the same city. Or city area, really. I don't want to be part of that kind of group. I don't want to be the person who doesn't leave their parent's vicinity for ages. I want to go out.
Ugh. This is going to suck. I really hope I get this stupid dispatch job, and quick. Or, failing that, I hope I get some kind of secretarial job. Sunday paper, here I come with a vengeance. Only this time I'll have to keep up the initial momentum I start with, and it's so very hard to motivate oneself for rejection. Oh well. I guess it's good practice for being a professional writer.
AUGH! I just realized. I'm going to be living in the house of CAKE! Aka my boyfriend's mother is doing a cake decorating class, and guess who gets to eat the practices? Uh-huh. Hoo boy. So much for my resolution to lose weight.
The alternative, of course, is that the Financial Company of Doom actually lightens the fuck up and gives my boyfriend something to do that'll earn him money. Swear to fucking god, I hate that place. It's such a scam.
Okay, bleh. Let's see. I think that's about it. And I need to light a fire under my ass and write like a mo-fo so I can actually get most of these novels done by the end of Nanowrimo, even with all the unproductive days I'll be having. 12k done yesterday. Let's see if I can top that.
Moving day fast approaches, now that I've got living arrangements squared away. I'm still not sure what ... I'm just not sure. There are, as always, a few ... what's the phrase from Aladdin, a few provisos, a couple of quid pro quo. Nothing unreasonable, and it gives me an excuse to get my ass in gear. But I still feel just generally wrong about mooching off of people. Never mind that I mooch off my mother all the time, that's my mother. That's acceptable to do. This is different.
But I really don't want to leave. I don't want to move back home, because I know that if I do move back home I won't leave. And I don't want to do that. I want to actually get out, go somewhere, do something, live somewhere outside the family bubble. My mom, my grandfather, my uncle, and one of my aunts all live in the same city. Or city area, really. I don't want to be part of that kind of group. I don't want to be the person who doesn't leave their parent's vicinity for ages. I want to go out.
Ugh. This is going to suck. I really hope I get this stupid dispatch job, and quick. Or, failing that, I hope I get some kind of secretarial job. Sunday paper, here I come with a vengeance. Only this time I'll have to keep up the initial momentum I start with, and it's so very hard to motivate oneself for rejection. Oh well. I guess it's good practice for being a professional writer.
AUGH! I just realized. I'm going to be living in the house of CAKE! Aka my boyfriend's mother is doing a cake decorating class, and guess who gets to eat the practices? Uh-huh. Hoo boy. So much for my resolution to lose weight.
The alternative, of course, is that the Financial Company of Doom actually lightens the fuck up and gives my boyfriend something to do that'll earn him money. Swear to fucking god, I hate that place. It's such a scam.
Okay, bleh. Let's see. I think that's about it. And I need to light a fire under my ass and write like a mo-fo so I can actually get most of these novels done by the end of Nanowrimo, even with all the unproductive days I'll be having. 12k done yesterday. Let's see if I can top that.
