Caterwauling

Spun sugar

Originally uploaded by dcwriterdawn

I played hooky yesterday.

One could argue that you can’t play hooky when you don’t work, but even the first day after the Evil Empire booted my fat ass to the curb, I was on the phone and polishing up my resume and treating the job search as a job.

These days, I’m back to being “alert girl,” which was why I was so eager to leave D.C. in the first place. (Read: Tied to the computer, ready to pounce the moment somebody needed to publish something because everything in this business is timely.)

There are even more alerts coming my way, which means job security. It also means, “Hunh. I came so far in the last few years. Isn’t this regressing a bit?”

But it pays. Unlike the one job that keeps throwing shit at me to do and I ain’t had a check since April. I hear one is in the mail. I hear.

My personal policy is to go on strike after two months of non-compensation, especially at the low rate I charge. It was already like a volunteer job and I already gave twice as many hours as I contracted for. I like the people (well, the owner, not necessarily the person I deal directly with).

I haven’t checked my mail in a day and I’m afraid to. (*hold me*) I forgot about taking vacation days — coming back is the worst. I have over 200 new e-mails. Most of which are probably just shitty e-letters from shitty e-publishers, I hope. 🙂

Anyway, so yeah, I spent the day with my favorite Floridian-turned-Philadelphian. (Oh, forget it — she’ll always be my Jersey Girl!) We went on a mission to find the place where she will get married. And after going all over creation and exploring every island within a 50-mile radius, we found it.

It was rather hilarious, listening to all these wedding planners grilling her on her chosen date. (Which is very soon.) Everyone wanted her to be flexible. But they didn’t say that. At one place, it was, “Well, why is that your date? No, really, why is that your date?”

My friend’s answer, “Because I’m the damn bride, that’s why!”

But when we finally found the place and came to an agreement on all the terms, the answer suddenly became (in the car of course because she’s too nice to say that to people’s faces):

“Because I’m the bride, BITCH!”

Confidence becomes her. 😉

Seriously, I am so happy I got to go with her. We lost a lot of “friend time” after I quit the Crack Den of Iniquity and went to work for the Evil Empire. I didn’t want to have the King Crackhead grilling my old friends on my whereabouts — I felt it better that the fewer people who had any information on me, the better for THEM.

Anyway, I guess I have to start looking for a party dress. Or maybe quit eating and fit into the dozen or two that I already own.

This day out was good for me, though. These days, I pray to God with gratitude that I can pay the rent. I don’t ask for much else. I figure that if I just ask for the basics (and maybe some extra favor for Mom) that’s enough. I don’t want to push my luck.

But I need more. I need friends and things to look forward to. I can’t live isolated in my apartment with my overextended unemployed houseguest for the rest of my life with absolutely no light at the end of this loooonnnng tunnel.

I’m hoping to meet a handsome stranger at this party of the year. Maybe I’ll put that on the prayer list too. I’d be such a happier person if I had a reason to live beyond publishing alerts that only generate fifty fucking customer service e-mails apiece that I then have to deal with.

God, it’s time for bigger things. I’m ready. So very ready.

This entry was posted on Thursday, July 21st, 2011 at 6:52 AM and is filed under Existential Meanderings. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. Both comments and pings are currently closed.