No matter how much you love your job, there’s always a day when you just don’t think you can face it.
Thought 1: I could say that I don’t have that problem because I don’t have what could technically be called a job.
According to Bing dictionary (and why would they lie to me? )
A job is:
- paid occupation: an activity such as a trade or profession that somebody does regularly for pay, or a paid position doing this
- task: something that remains to be done or dealt with
- assignment: an individual piece of work of a particular nature
So I guess I do have a job, I ghostwrite short stories for a set fee per story. I have a contract and I don’t get paid until I complete that task.
I am also still in the system at one school and when called upon, I complete a specific set of tasks for which I am compensated.
But it’s the regular part that I don’t quite have down yet.
Thought 2: For the most part I have what a lot of writers want: a place to write the tools and the time. It’s just me and Samantha in the house and there’s really not a lot I have to accomplish outside of basic hygiene and cat maintenance. If I could stand my own stench and ignore the cat, I wouldn’t have to do very much at all. (This is not a cry for help, I’m just making a point. I am bathing and leaving the house and exercising.) Yet I am having a difficult time getting and maintaining the motivation to get the things on my list done. (It’s not a big list.)
I did see something interesting when I went out for a walk so I wouldn’t fuse to the couch like in the really grim episode of Nip/Tuck.
In the parking lot of Harbor Freight and Dollar General there was a short length of plastic rope, a small cardboard box that used to contain condoms and an ice cream wrapper.
There’s either a story in that or maybe a police report.