Back to work I go
It's that time I hate -- when I have to apply myself to the work that supports me. It's not that I'm bad at it; I actually enjoy doing the work, and I am good at what I do. It's just the process of getting started that seems to affect my body badly. I get panicky; the tremor in my hands returns, and overall, I'd rather be sleeping.
However, I did choose this -- to be an independent consultant -- rather than to sit in an office 40 hours a week and have someone else tell me what to do in an atmosphere less comfortable than an airport lounge and with less fresh air. Granted, fresh air is relative, given the city in which I live, but I detest those office buildings where the windows are sealed. I'm surprised only that more people don't break them and fly out.
Apropos of the new year, it seems it's time to vote for best blogs in various categories. So I've been checking out a lot of different people's blogs and have come to some conclusions: I would rather you paint me a picture with words than insert an actual photograph. If your child and/or pet and/or significant other does something you think is hilarious, give it 24 hours before you blog (new verb?) about it, maybe give it a test drive on the phone to a couple of friends. For example, I think the behavior of my off-White Rabbit is amusing, but I don't know that many people who would concur, so he doesn't get mentioned all that often.
I like to be entertained by my glimpses into other people's domestic lives as blogged about. I adore flea, Alice and Melissa, among others.
If I could be more entertaining, I would, but the ironies of life make it progressively more difficult. I don't cook, so you won't find recipes here; I don't have children, so I only comment on other people's children whom I see behaving in a manner that my mother would have killed me for doing in public.
I am the Prozac poster adult fighting an uphill battle against chronic major depression. And I'm not married/attached. Two relationships of 20+ years each ended completely last year, so now I have to go test the waters again. I do know what I'm not looking for; what I am looking for is less easy to define.
However, I did choose this -- to be an independent consultant -- rather than to sit in an office 40 hours a week and have someone else tell me what to do in an atmosphere less comfortable than an airport lounge and with less fresh air. Granted, fresh air is relative, given the city in which I live, but I detest those office buildings where the windows are sealed. I'm surprised only that more people don't break them and fly out.
Apropos of the new year, it seems it's time to vote for best blogs in various categories. So I've been checking out a lot of different people's blogs and have come to some conclusions: I would rather you paint me a picture with words than insert an actual photograph. If your child and/or pet and/or significant other does something you think is hilarious, give it 24 hours before you blog (new verb?) about it, maybe give it a test drive on the phone to a couple of friends. For example, I think the behavior of my off-White Rabbit is amusing, but I don't know that many people who would concur, so he doesn't get mentioned all that often.
I like to be entertained by my glimpses into other people's domestic lives as blogged about. I adore flea, Alice and Melissa, among others.
If I could be more entertaining, I would, but the ironies of life make it progressively more difficult. I don't cook, so you won't find recipes here; I don't have children, so I only comment on other people's children whom I see behaving in a manner that my mother would have killed me for doing in public.
I am the Prozac poster adult fighting an uphill battle against chronic major depression. And I'm not married/attached. Two relationships of 20+ years each ended completely last year, so now I have to go test the waters again. I do know what I'm not looking for; what I am looking for is less easy to define.
posted by alice, uptown at 5:07 PM
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