Explaining the Self-Explanatory

Well, hell. Sometimes it just gets down to that choice of getting up or lying in bed counting down the moments that you could have been sleeping… if only you could sleep.

Good morning, world. Time to eat my English muffin and pretend to be awake.

I’m not really sure what got me up this early. It could be the scene I was writing last night. (Possibly I need more time between when I finish writing, and when my head hits the pillow.) Or it could be the fact that I’m having one of those “conversations” at work. You know the kind: I said something I figured was self-explanatory, and apparently, it’s not.

It’s going to need to be fixed.

I’m still vaguely hoping to have a manuscript by the time I leave for Colorado. That may be at least slightly optimistic, but my characters were cooperative last night (and probably any night where I have time and a little bit of discipline) So, it could happen.

I think about going to the library to work on things on my days off, and then, I realize the library opens roughly eight and a half hours after I wake up. That’s a whole work day! I’m not sure what is open, right now. Truck stop cafe might really be it.

In further small-town related news, the junk-yard burned last night. Thick black smoke everywhere. About two miles of road was closed down… not that the fire was that big. It’s just that two miles is the smallest section of road you can close, and still have a place for traffic to turn off without having a giant rut of u-turns.

I liked that junk yard. Meanest dogs in town. Nearly licked me to death, the last time I was there, and when that didn’t work, they tried drowning me in an ocean of slobber. I was lucky to escape with my life.

The Glories of Shitty Day Jobs

Today is the least popular day of the year, the day when the clocks get set forward an hour and we all lose an hour of sleep. Or, you know… in my case, an hour of early-morning writing time.  I’m most likely going to wake up at exactly the same time I always do, and then realize that it’s an hour later and almost time to go to work. So, naturally… blogging in advance. Like a disciplined person.

I am going to have to deal with vacation time–**again**– because somehow, the current incarnation of “management” missed the fact that there are two Karens and well… they got us switched. Which means that I was just given other Karen’s six week (unpaid) medical leave, instead of my own (much shorter, but compensated) vacation time. So… I have to check to be sure that I’m still good.

No, I have no idea how that’s even possible.

I am going on vacation. Oh, yes. I am. And I am going on a real vacation. It has been a really, insanely long time since I had a real vacation. Things just keep getting in the way. You know the family-stuff thing, where you use up all your time to do something that’s actually more stressful than just staying at work would be? That was the last couple years.

This year? I’m going out.

I’m going to relax, if I still remember how.

I’m going to wear heels the whole time, and see how many people I can convince I’m tall. Maybe even put on some decent clothes to go with them.

Going on vacation as a well-dressed tall person. Yes, I am.

And I hope that I’m doing it as scheduled with no unexpected surprises.


You know that Red Button…?

The one that should never, ever be pushed? The one attached to the Nuclear Option, and all the pyrotechnics?

I pushed it.


I went to my shitty day job the other day. Saw the mess. Turned around, and walked back out. Okay. So, maybe I took one of the managers on the “Why I’m Leaving” Tour before I left.

The thing is… I’m at the point where things have to get better. They just have to. There isn’t another option. I’m not in love with my job. I never have been. It’s something to pay the bills and let me work on my own projects.

But more and more, it’s becoming the primary stressor in my life. It’s certainly the most stressful job I’ve ever had. (And BTW, I used to teach. In a prison.)

There is absolutely no reason that this job–it’s basically nothing–should be like that. I come in; I do the job; I leave. Return to step one.

I was off for a couple of days, and that middle step? Well, it got left out. Not for the first time, and not in any kind of an excusable way. Not in a way that I can fix.

And by someone who’s paid more because she’s supposed to be able to do all the jobs in the area. As it turns out… she can’t do any. I’m not the only person who’s had this experience.

So, by the end of the day, my closest friend at work had phone calls. Which mostly seem to be co-workers cheering me on. Because–same experience. And from the sound of things… most of the fallout is being blown away from me.

Things have to get better. And right now, I don’t even care how they get better.