Working for a Living

I'm on my first full day of my mandatory cooling off period from Missed Connections. I finished yesterday, well ahead of schedule I thought, with the intention of taking break from it before immersing myself in the polish and revise sometime in the middle of August. Well, that ain't going to happen. The manuscript is due September 1. I then have another manuscript due March 2008, am teaching a three month long mediabistro class and have Life Over Easy to promote. And if either of my YA proposals get picked up, I'll have to work those into my schedule.

Fuck. (I think I'm entitled to a little profanity.)

I know what you're thinking: "Quit your whining, you silly typing cow. Do you know how many other people out there would like to be in your shoes?"

So that was what was on my mind during my fruitless trip to the mall to look for something to wear on Saturday for the taping: whose job would I like to have instead of my own. I've been through this before where I crave having a real job. One where you know what's expected of you, look forward to a pretty reliable quitting time, a steady paycheck and the daily camaraderie of others in the same boat as you are.

Then I remember how much some of the jobs I had sucked. I had mean bosses, dumb bosses, lazy co-workers, terrible commutes and spent most of the time bored out of my mind. Plus, it really sucks to have to go to work when you have cramps. Nowadays if I have cramps I retire to the couch and enjoy them the way the women in France do with their guaranteed four days off from work every month. Or was it Sweden? Anyway, its one of those places where they put the worker ahead of the work.

I have no one to blame for my situation but myself. I am my own boss, so I make the rules and am responsible for doing all the work. If it doesn't get done or isn't done right, it's all on me. I am the boss of me.

So, damn it, I'm going to enjoy these few days off before I delve back into Missed Connections. I'm going to write whatever I want to write or not write at all. I'm going to read vacuous magazine articles on miracle skin serums and watch movies until my eyeballs dry out. Then I'm going to get back to work because that what we do here in the U.S. of A. We pretend a long weekend is a vacation and then we work until our joints give out.

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