So ![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
cesperanza has issued a retro journaling challenge. She wants revive the use of Dreamwidth to, like, talk to each other and stuff. She's committing to post every day for 30 days. I'm not sure I can do that because my days at the moment are so similar that it's a trial in the morning to remember whether or not it's a weekday, but I'll join the cause -- let's say I'll commit to 15 posts before mid-September.
Here's what's up with me:
Kidlet and I have moved up north and are settling into the townhouse with the Bobkitten and about a quarter of our possessions. Kidlet starts high school on Monday, if you can believe that.
Spouse finishes up his summer job today, and now we have to figure out how to get him and the remaining three-quarters of our possessions up here. (We had to do the move in stages like that because of a conflict between the end of the spouse's work and the beginning of the kidlet's school music commitment.)
I still don't have a job. Two separate people from two separate organizations have told me that I ought to apply at the museum/aquarium (which would pretty much be a dream workplace for me -- imagine being able to go down and visit the octopus on your coffee break!), but while everyone's quite confident that there's an opening, nobody, including the director of volunteers at the establishment itself, seems to be able to tell me what the opening is.
I filled out an application, but honestly I kind of feel like at my level of education and experience, filling out an application is going to put me in the wrong pile altogether, you know? Like, the people who are looking at the applications are the ones who are trying to find high school students to operate the snack bar, and if someone is looking for an events coordinator or something, they're not even going to open the file drawer.
I'm trying to find work, meet people, and get to the point where I can ever, ever go from Point A to Point B without GPS. I haven't moved since 1993. I haven't changed towns since 1991. It stinks, people.
Fannishly nothing much is up; I'm still reading all the Sherlock, and I have at least two stories halted at a halfway point, but my mind is so scattered that I haven't put a word on paper in months.
This is my world!
cesperanza has issued a retro journaling challenge. She wants revive the use of Dreamwidth to, like, talk to each other and stuff. She's committing to post every day for 30 days. I'm not sure I can do that because my days at the moment are so similar that it's a trial in the morning to remember whether or not it's a weekday, but I'll join the cause -- let's say I'll commit to 15 posts before mid-September. Here's what's up with me:
Kidlet and I have moved up north and are settling into the townhouse with the Bobkitten and about a quarter of our possessions. Kidlet starts high school on Monday, if you can believe that.
Spouse finishes up his summer job today, and now we have to figure out how to get him and the remaining three-quarters of our possessions up here. (We had to do the move in stages like that because of a conflict between the end of the spouse's work and the beginning of the kidlet's school music commitment.)
I still don't have a job. Two separate people from two separate organizations have told me that I ought to apply at the museum/aquarium (which would pretty much be a dream workplace for me -- imagine being able to go down and visit the octopus on your coffee break!), but while everyone's quite confident that there's an opening, nobody, including the director of volunteers at the establishment itself, seems to be able to tell me what the opening is.
I filled out an application, but honestly I kind of feel like at my level of education and experience, filling out an application is going to put me in the wrong pile altogether, you know? Like, the people who are looking at the applications are the ones who are trying to find high school students to operate the snack bar, and if someone is looking for an events coordinator or something, they're not even going to open the file drawer.
I'm trying to find work, meet people, and get to the point where I can ever, ever go from Point A to Point B without GPS. I haven't moved since 1993. I haven't changed towns since 1991. It stinks, people.
Fannishly nothing much is up; I'm still reading all the Sherlock, and I have at least two stories halted at a halfway point, but my mind is so scattered that I haven't put a word on paper in months.
This is my world!