A lot of stupid bullshit’s been fucking me up for the past too-long, including but not limited to: office drama, chronic not-enough-sleep, complete lack of solitude or any space to myself,* (and somewhat paradoxically) general feelings of isolation from people I want to have a connection with and alienation from people I’m forced by circumstance to pretend a connection with.
TL;DR: Being a grown up sucks.
- Write most days (any fiction counts, 350 words/day).
- Current projects: At the Bitter End / Faster Than Pain.**
- Post some fiction/a fragment here at least once a month.
- “Sometime in March” has been designated more specifically as March 10. That is the official start of several official weeks of official Off the Phones Time™**** while we are trained for the New Ultra-Lucrative***** Department™ (until they change all these details at the last minute again).
*The old writing cliche about a room of one’s own? Legit grievance, turns out.
****Only those who work/have worked in Call Center Hell can truly understand the ecstatic bliss of Not Being On the Motherfucking Phones (and god damn but this job has ruined any appeal telephonic communication ever had for me).
*****For the call center, I mean. I don’t expect to see a single extra cent in my paycheck (despite many vague assertions to the contrary).