[Warning: Long, rambly post ahead]

Mrfph. Well, it’s been a couple of days, it has. I’m feeling more mellow now. I didn’t post yesterday because I just didn’t want to whine at ya’ll. I was really cranky.

Yesterday we went clothes shopping for me again. Why again, you ask? Well, I found out Thursday morning that have a job interview on Monday, and I have no work-type clothes that fit me. I ended up with a short-to-mid-length navy skirt and a dark red linen button-down top, and a pair of black sling-back pumps (because all of my work-type shoes got eaten by mildew. And I bought black because I wear more black than navy.). After we came home, I worked on docs for my banner and my mask, and then we headed out to Alter Years, an amazing costuming supply store, to buy lots of metal corset stays for the second half of the corset workshop tomorrow. We had dinner at Versailles (the scrummy Cuban restaurant, where we had more than enough leftovers for lunch today) and went to the Company of Clothiers. The topic was handsewing, particularly how to finish a machine-sewn garment by hand. Sounds simple, but we learned a lot. Like, duh, thread has a nap. Afterwards we hung out and chatted with folks for several hours.

Unfortunately, I was in a bit of a panic most of yesterday. So much to do, so little time! I didn’t sleep well (and haven’t been, in part due to Charlie deciding that once it’s light, it’s time to stomp around on the bed and miaow). I’m feeling somewhat better now, although I haven’t done half the things I planned to today.

I gathered ye rosebuds while I may this morning to make the beads for Gyldenholt A&S next weekend. And managed to burn the entire batch beyond use. Oh, that was distressing. I had to walk away for a good while. Finally I went outside and determined that I had enough roses left to do another batch. Most were ones I’d thought were a little too raggedy on my first pass; some were petals that had fallen when I first harvested; and two were perfect blooms I hadn’t had the heart to take on the first round. During that process, a spider attacked me. Not happy, captain. Then, when I started to go through the bag of petals, I was attacked by an even larger spider and then by a giant mutant earwig. To my credit, I didn’t cry (although I dearly wanted to). I put the bag outside, and when Ken came home, he sorted through and removed any nasties. (Earwigs make a satisfying “pop”, he noted.)

I’ve now made a full batch of beads, though. Yay. Now, as long as I don’t drop the board on the floor or something, I’m good to go. Fifteen beads, a little larger than the ones Lasairfhiona and I made. My fingers smell really good. :-) Still have to write up the docs, although I’ve got notes scribbled out. Three docs are done; two to go.

To get ready for the job interview, I’ve been taking Excel tutorials online. I have only a vague idea how to use Excel, and I know I’ll be tested on it (they warned me, the nice folks. Excel, Word, and advanced spelling.). I also have to read _Knock ‘Em Dead_, since I haven’t done so in a good 10 years (I haven’t had to interview for a job in about 9 years).

I’m having all sorts of emotional upheaval about getting a “real” job. By a “real” job, I mean a full-time (likely to be more than that, given the nature of publishing) job that requires real focus (and real salary). If it got down to it, I was going to sign up at some temp agencies or get a no-brainer office job. But, Ken’s thinking about getting his MBA, which he can probably do via distance/online learning in a year, and I’m willing to get a higher paying “real” job to support him in that. Between my salary and his contract work (another two weeks in Portland, some time in Boston, and probably some time in Korea coming up) we can pay the mortgage and live reasonably well.

But it still feels like I’ve failed as a writer.

Five years, and what have I got to show for it? A bit, I suppose. Two completed novels, three half-completed ones. A fair number of short stories, plus sales of a few. (And, admittedly, a lot of SCA stuff—Kingdom office, starting a Shire, running Kingdom events, working on GWW, holding local offices, work for the BoD, plus costuming and all that. But we’re really talking about my writing career here.) I wish I’d gone to OCW before we’d left for Wales, because it would have helped immensely. But that’s not an _excuse_, mind you. The bottom line is that I’ve produced a fraction of what I should have. Of what I _could_ have. Even with all the SCA stuff and travelling.

We played a game at OCW, to show us what a writer’s life is like, and the main thing was to see how long it would take for each of us to have to get a job again. That echoes in my mind. (And yes, if Ken’s bosses hadn’t gone all stupid on us, this wouldn’t be an issue. In happy karma, the big boss has actually been demoted. [satisfied chuckle])

Really, pets, it won’t help to send me messages about this (as wonderful and kind as I know they’d be). It’s something I’m just going to have to work through myself.

And just watch, if I don’t get the job, I’ll be all maudlin because of that…

Onwards. Happy Full Moon!

Watched “Proof of Life” whilst making the beads and working on The Project That Cannot Be Mentioned (which is going very well, BTW). I still don’t get the Russell Crowe thing. Maybe if I’d snogged him when I was 16 like Anwyn did…or maybe not.

You know, I don’t usually talk about books I’m reading here. I don’t know why, really. I guess because I read pretty fast and who wants to hear about all the Blaze novels I’m tearing through? I know I occasionally mention the good stuff. But I deliberately don’t mention the books I don’t finish, the ones I throw across the room. Just because I don’t like them, doesn’t mean they’re bad, and one professional writer shouldn’t diss another. It would suck to read someone else’s journal and see them dissing my stuff.

But I tell ya, when the romance heroine says, “But I swear those eyes of his shoot out tentacles of fire”, how can I not tell ya’ll about that? I had to stop reading the book (it was pretty lame anyway). I kept imagine flaming octopus tentacles, and those are just not sexy. They’re not, I tell you. (And if you think they are…I’m not sure I want to know.)

No writing again today, in the midst of all the franticness. Oh, and did I mention I have another Sage journal to copy edit next week?

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Cat Stories: Charlie likes to crawl under the covers. Sometimes she half does it in the morning, so I have a soft furry object at my back, which is comforting. When she does it in the middle of the day, it amuses me to gently poke the lump in the bed and hear her chirrup in mild annoyance. In truth, we’re trying to dissuade her from the practise, because if she sleeps all day, she’s more likely to keep us up at night.

Today the plan was to swap sides of the house with the cats. For those of you who haven’t been here, our house can conveniently be divided in half. One half is the living room, kitchen, library, and spare bathroom. The other half is the study, main bath, master bedroom, and master bath. A door in the hallway, which we normally don’t close, can separate the two. We’ve been keeping Charlie in the back half, sometimes just in the master bed/bath, sometimes in the study area as well.

We swapped, but about 15 minutes later when I opened the bedroom door (Eostre and Grimoire were in the master bath), Charlie came flying back in and dove under the bed. Apparently the rest of the house was that overwhelming. I tossed Eostre out into the hallway, but Grimoire decided that in the mayhem, the best place to be was under the bed, heading from the other side. Imagine his surprise when his haven included a growling cat. He left swiftly.

We’ll have to try the plan again tomorrow, and remember to use the outside doors to fake everyone out. (It’s pathetic, really, when your life revolves around faking out your cats.)