Akaky Akakyovich (![[info]](http://p-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif){kind=small} admiralbunny) wrote,@ 2005-09-17 09:32:00 |
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well, it's been two months. that's a long time, and though I've been reading other people's journals, I haven't felt like clicking on that little "Update" button - not that a lot hasn't been happening around here. So since I'm just getting back in the swing of this, I'll make a list:
1. I started my new job. I have terribly mixed feelings about this. I love working downtown, my fifteen minute commute which I walk half of; all the people at my (small) office are very nice, and I work with my friend Beth; I'm rarely on the phone, which is wonderful compared to my last job. But this past week I've been slacking a little bit, and it's way too early to start slacking. I discovered TWoP, and have been catching up on my new favorite show Veronica Mars. And one of the guys I work with came over and was peering at my screen and I didn't feel like clicking guiltily away, so he saw what I was reading; not that everyone else doesn't surf around on the internet, and no one expects me to work 100% of every day, but still - that's not what I want my boss to see me doing. Also, I accidentally transfered millions of dollars to the wrong bank account for a client. Seriously. Millions. On the other hand, same boss-man who saw me slacking also paid me a very nice compliment about my work a couple of weeks ago. So I just need to pull myself together and buckle down from now on, and everything will be fine. No more cute little Veronica Mars updates at work!
2. I registered for a graduate class: Creative Poetry Workshop! I am so fucking excited about this. The director of the (small) program requested a writing sample before I could register, since I'm not matriculated in any program yet. When I went out to an information session at the school, she pulled me aside and told me how excited she and the faculty were about the sample I sent in. Subsequently, I applied to their MFA program in creative writing and have secured all three letters of reference with little to know difficulty. Now, a couple of years ago, when I was really frustrated with how little my college degree had prepared me to do anything more than think about stuff, I told myself that my graduate degree was going to be something practical. So, is creative writing practical? Of course not. But it's also what I love to do. So what if I never actually get a job doing it.
3. I might have a chance to write some Philadelphia articles for a tourist guide.
4. I've been one cranky bitch to Eric lately; it all has to do with how messy the house is and it has made me feel just like my Mom. It's so disturbing when these indicators of your genetics rear up and remind you that you're not as different from those crazy people who raised you as you think you are, not that I don't love and respect my mother but she's insane. Again, it's something that I just have to move forward, away from, and try to keep under check from now on. I've talked to my sister about this and am relieved to hear that it's normal, she does it too; this doesn't make it any more acceptable that the things I always swore I'd never say or do are spewing out of my mouth uncontrollably.
5. It's my birthday next week; 29 years.
1. I started my new job. I have terribly mixed feelings about this. I love working downtown, my fifteen minute commute which I walk half of; all the people at my (small) office are very nice, and I work with my friend Beth; I'm rarely on the phone, which is wonderful compared to my last job. But this past week I've been slacking a little bit, and it's way too early to start slacking. I discovered TWoP, and have been catching up on my new favorite show Veronica Mars. And one of the guys I work with came over and was peering at my screen and I didn't feel like clicking guiltily away, so he saw what I was reading; not that everyone else doesn't surf around on the internet, and no one expects me to work 100% of every day, but still - that's not what I want my boss to see me doing. Also, I accidentally transfered millions of dollars to the wrong bank account for a client. Seriously. Millions. On the other hand, same boss-man who saw me slacking also paid me a very nice compliment about my work a couple of weeks ago. So I just need to pull myself together and buckle down from now on, and everything will be fine. No more cute little Veronica Mars updates at work!
2. I registered for a graduate class: Creative Poetry Workshop! I am so fucking excited about this. The director of the (small) program requested a writing sample before I could register, since I'm not matriculated in any program yet. When I went out to an information session at the school, she pulled me aside and told me how excited she and the faculty were about the sample I sent in. Subsequently, I applied to their MFA program in creative writing and have secured all three letters of reference with little to know difficulty. Now, a couple of years ago, when I was really frustrated with how little my college degree had prepared me to do anything more than think about stuff, I told myself that my graduate degree was going to be something practical. So, is creative writing practical? Of course not. But it's also what I love to do. So what if I never actually get a job doing it.
3. I might have a chance to write some Philadelphia articles for a tourist guide.
4. I've been one cranky bitch to Eric lately; it all has to do with how messy the house is and it has made me feel just like my Mom. It's so disturbing when these indicators of your genetics rear up and remind you that you're not as different from those crazy people who raised you as you think you are, not that I don't love and respect my mother but she's insane. Again, it's something that I just have to move forward, away from, and try to keep under check from now on. I've talked to my sister about this and am relieved to hear that it's normal, she does it too; this doesn't make it any more acceptable that the things I always swore I'd never say or do are spewing out of my mouth uncontrollably.
5. It's my birthday next week; 29 years.
