I applied for a different job this week. I'm sure what I've asked for in salary is too high, but mama's gotta raise the hog, slaughter it, and cook it too. And at my age, it is really hard to go too far backwards in the pay scale. Not that I could anyway. There's the house, and the car, and the food, and the health insurance, and the heat, and the AC, and the cable, and the phone, and the cell phone in case of emergency, and the electricity, and well someone has to pick up the trash, and the newspaper, and clothes, and geez... how the h-e-double-toothpicks do people do it?
Well anyway, I applied for the job. And it could be cool. But I doubt I could work from home. Which I do now. Which I love because I'm here a lot for my little guy. But I hate because it can be lonely. Especially since there's no pig farmer coming home in the eves to keep me company.
So we'll see. And if not, perhaps I'll audit a creative writing class this summer. Perhaps I need to break out a bit. Life can't be so consumed by my current job, which while putting the bacon on the table, tends to suck the life out of me at times. Not that I'm complaining. Or am I?
Maybe there's a novel in me. Or a good non-fiction thriller. Or a kid's book. Or a how-to? Or another business, to accompany the baby boutique I currently own.
Time for bed.