I put myself back in the narrative.

Wow, this is an entirely different post than I thought I was going to post this week.

After a week of being anxious and sick with worry, applying anywhere and everywhere that was hiring little ol’ admins like me, barely being able to enjoy my birthday or movies or writing because of the stress, I have a new job! I start tomorrow. It feels imaginary. It feels too good to be true. I hope I hope I hope it goes well and I like it and it’s as good a fit as it feels.

I’m still going to be free on weekends. I’m still going to have PTO. I’m not going to have benefits, but those can be bought at a price that works for us. It’s going to be an adjustment, but I’m excited to see what happens. This might be a great way to network and expand my skills.

Anyway, enough about work. How are you? 😅 Are the birds singing where you are? I’ve been spoiling our neighborhood birds and squirrels. My sister-in-law laughed at me yesterday because I have a giant bag of birdseed. And this isn’t even related to anything; this is just the way I’ve always been.

Writing-wise, everything’s still going well. I think the 500-words-a-day pacing has been much better for my brain, and it’s also been way more doable during all of these hectic changes. Just hope I don’t read it back when it’s finished and realize it’s not good. (I doubt that’ll happen, but we writers are tough self-critics.)

We watched Hamilton on my birthday-eve last Friday and I was struck by how much it ends up being Eliza’s story. It’s a little bit like Rocket in Guardians of the Galaxy.

”My beloved raccoon, the story has been yours all along, you just didn’t know it.”

Dang, I think I may have stumbled upon the best tattoo idea for me.