Lately I’ve been caught up in this feeling of everything being OK.
BOY did I let my brain get away from me for a few days there.
Tomorrow is my work anniversary. Read: so long, 168 hours of vacation. Yes I’ll get more. But that’s not the point.
And now with my new project load, either I cancel my December getaway or be prepared to work through it. Because wouldn’t that be anyone’s Christmas wish?
In surprising news, I just got two soft job offers and I promise, I haven’t been looking. (Who has time?)
One from an old colleague who says hey I have an opening if you know anybody HINT HINT. Another from an old colleague who changed industries and said, hey, if you’re serious about making money and not killing yourself for every dime, I’m about to post this job and you should CALL ME.
With both, I thought, nah. I’m good. But then after I smashed my glasses and my farsighted ass had to keep editing and doing layout because the buck stops here baybee, I had visions … of, I dunno, something … dancing through my head.
And here I’ve just been trying to get up the nerve to ask the Alligator Farm to allow me to do freelance so I can afford to get Mom some healthcare. Since, making decisions about how you spend your free time is clearly beyond your feeble little-girl brain.
Oh, spirit guides? I thank you for the dream I’ll have tonight to help me process all this new information. …