Life

I just received a check in the mail for $502 from my old employer. Apparently, they’ve just now gotten around to re-purchasing the company stock that I had with them. Damn, I get by by the skin of my teeth… OK, technically I owe $110 of this to my endocrinologist back in Chicago and $200 […]

Temp work until 12:30 today, followed by one interview at same place I’d been temping that’s looking for somebody to assist one of the investment brokers. Bike ride home, lunch, bus ride downtown for second interview for a receptionist/project assistant position that’s got a commute out to fucking Springboro and a 7:30 am start time.

Ian and I went out on a beer and pie run tonight. On the way back, I mentioned I’d sent out some query letters today. “Wow,” Ian said, “if you got a big fat check for that book, you might almost be cool again.”

Had to turn down interviews for a couple of short-term temp assignments because… well, after I was told I wasn’t going to be interviewed for one of them, I went ahead and booked Wiscon for some extra days, and now I’m committed to doing that instead of a possible 2-week assignment for 20 an hour.

And, suddenly, my phone is ringing off the hook with temp agencies submitting my resume to people. Is there some kind of quarterly budget thing happening where people are eager to hire all of a sudden, or what? Hey, I’ll take what I can get…

So, I went in to see the podiatrist yesterday to have this callous on my toe checked out. I first noticed it last year just before I went into the hospital, and since then, I’ve been frantically looking up horrific pictures of diabetic foot ulcers, worrying that this was going to turn into something gangrenous

That it is OK to ask for help. But, still hard.

“The majority of people aren’t sad because there is something wrong with their brain. They are sad because their lives suck.”

Having a rough night tonight, basically because I’ve got some medical stuff I want to take care of (like the callous on the bottom of my toe that’s going to get me my foot chopped off if I don’t get it scraped someday this century, and I’m down to my last bottle of Lantus and

Called in available to my temp agencies and scheduled another interview for tomorrow at 10am with yet another temp agency. That’ll be three agencies I’m registered with. In the meantime, on my tax forms, I put down that my occupation was “writer.” It felt much better than writing “employed.” Anyway, more GW edits. The book’s