The Low-Down on My Down-Lowedness

Got a "When are you back?" email earlier. Here's the deal, folks.

I'll be back, I'll write when I'm more clear-headed. I essentially fucked up and didn't realize something pretty major and my finances have taken a turn for the worse, so I need to find a job ASAP. You don't know me, don't know my drive, and don't know how single-focus I can become when something needs to happen. I'm in that mode now. That, and two nights of three hours or less of sleep in a row. I'm a weensy bit obsessed.

When I want what I want, I want it when I want it, and I want a job -- now. I'm not one of these people who believes it's hard to find work, as it never has been for me. (Finding the right job, though, is trickier.) I've got a couple things I'm optimistic about, but the question is whether it's just a job or if it's going to be a career move, and with the latter, I do have something specific in mind. And I'm hoping like all hell. I'll probably hear in regards to whether that one has an interview available come Monday. Tuesday I already have one.

So, I'm sorry, but if it comes to the dogged pursuit of paying my rent and having a livelihood versus appeasing the masses, well, the masses'll lose every time.

The good news is, I've never had to hand out more than six resumes in my life, and I've already sent that many out. Should be any day now. (Hardy-har-har. That's my "sarcastic" laugh.) I believe in myself, yes, but I believe in commitment more, and I wanna know I'm in good with a new employer before I pop the cork. Y'know what I'm saying? My best record ever was three resumes to "real" jobs, and two interviews, and got hired for both, so I picked. :)

(All I ever needed to know, I learned in Marketing class. ;)

Aside from that, I believe I have some plans with the Guy this weekend, and I need a little downtime, as my brain stem snapped in two when I realized how colossally I had fucked myself. I mean, I believe in masturbation, but this is ridiculous. A week until I have no guaranteed income anymore. I made one of those mistakes that some people pay dearly for. I'm not content with becoming "some people," so hang tight. Lemme do my shit. You need a fix? I vent nearly daily on The Last Ditch.

I'll be back. Guaranteed. I'll probably drop down to about three posts a week or something to cope, after a few days of finding my pace or something. I was trying not to post anything about this, but if you're all sitting around wondering "What the fuck's with Steff?" then maybe I should end the enigmatic pause at the very least.

In the meantime, I've taken shipment of my snazzy new computer that will mean I eventually will have a podcast on the air. That air date may be affected by this recent turn of events, but I'm hoping to hold true to my original estimate.

The podcast-to-be will heretofore be called "SMUTT AND STEFF." [Grin.] Thought that one up as I laid in bed staring at the ceiling last evening. Nothing like a before-bed lightning strike.

(To the youngins out there, Mutt and Jeff is a comic strip dating as far back as 1919. I like bastardizing mainstream names, hence the Scribe Called Steff, no?)