Saturday, February 05, 2005

Quiet night at the homestead...

There's a fire burning in the fireplace, I'm comfortably tucked up with my laptop on the recliner, and S just brought me a mocha shake for my sore throat.

I've spent most of the day combing through want ads on the internet for freelance writing and editing jobs, but so far no success. I've posted a few ads of my own just in case someone doesn't mind having me look over their work, but I'll not be holding my breath waiting for a response.

Funny thing: I used to laugh at my mother for suggesting that I should go into editing. Reading was a hobby, and correcting mistakes in texts was simply because inaccuracy irritated me tremendously. I was going to be a music teacher- anything else was simply out of the question. Four years and two changes of major later, it would appear that priorities have changed. I've worked several different types of jobs over the years, and each one I hoped would at least provide me some sort of satisfaction. In most I was easily bored and left no option to advance, so after six months or a year I moved on to the next best thing, once again hoping that this time it would be different. I'm hoping that in attempting proofreading I'll break the curse and find something that I wouldn't mind turning into a career.

In keeping with that hope, I'll stop gabbing and start searching again.

2 comments:

Doc AWM said...

Be selfishly pro-active and self-edited!

WRITE!

~Another looser to add to your bouquet. said...

Love is an odd thing. Self absorbed and short sighted. But it is.

I fell in love with you like the men in my life did, for the same reasons.

I suppose I'll keep thinking about you every once in a while, like I do with the first man I loved.

A wistfulness.