Between my shitty day job and my writing schedule, I’m an early riser, most of the time. It’s a little past three in the morning, right now, and my white noise machine hasn’t gone off, yet. Today, I’m writing the blog post I forgot about yesterday. Oops.

Even so, I don’t usually think of mornings as my most productive time. A little writing, here and there, but mostly, I’m up so I don’t have to rush getting dressed, and there’s time to eat a real, grown-up people breakfast and read some news.  I’m in a better mood all day for knowing the Giant Panda has been breeding like mad and is no longer on the endangered species list.

Or maybe, I’m in a better mood for that second cup of tea.

Right now, I’m thinking solid, lucid thoughts about quitting my day job. They’re not well-funded thoughts, but at least they’re a little more structured than just a series of gripes about what’s going on there. (Incompetent higher ups, who create the problems they’d like me to solve, and then complain about how I do it.) And let’s be honest–it’s not a career worthy job by any stretch.

I was never one of those kids who knew exactly what mainstream, 9-5 job I wanted from day one. Nope. I knew I wanted to be a writer (which is not exactly what the public schools have in mind) and I always cringed at the idea of… well, anything else. But I could still use a better class of day job. So, I’m trying to track down a few marketable skills. Thinking about where to volunteer to boost that resume.

Thinking about writing short stories, and actually marketing them.

Thinking of creating my own line of un-baby shower party games and supplies. Reveal cake? Pink for a girl, Blue for a boy… Green for dual incomes, no kids, and I just wanted to have a party. After that I could expand into “Didn’t marry the wrong man” showers and “Stopped having birthdays, so Happy Tuesday” Parties.

In the world of etsy, that might actually take off.