Life

Working at Vox is going pretty well. I worked almost full time for about three weeks while we were preparing our arts guide, which went to the printer today. I'm looking forward to seeing it all fancy and printed out. I got to see it in full color after spending HOURS editing a draft of it yesterday. I've long wanted an editorial position and boy howdy, I have one. I'm just glad I've been entrusted with tasks beyond working on the calendar.

Now that the guide is done, I've been uploading film and theatre reviews. Some of the work is tedious data entry but I'm SO happy to have a job and even happier I can now call myself employed part-time instead of unemployed. My cats are pretty pissy that I leave the house with regularity, though. I got an earful from George this morning. I tried to explain that leaving the house is necessary if she wants to continue to eat but I don't think she's making the connection. Lately she's been spending part of the night sleeping on me, going so far as to move with me whenever I change positions. It's so adorable I can hardly stand it.

So... Vox. I will say from the start that I am crazy sensitive about some things. I could almost not stand to be in the same room with a former coworker because the sound of him swallowing water or eating an apple drove me batshit insane. The fact that he got up at least once a morning and did push-ups in the space between our desks was also off-putting. My new coworker, the Earl of Pandemonium, is nice enough (friendly, literate, thought I was in my 20s), BUT he throws down his bag, crashes into his chair (which he pops in and out of with alarming regularity), types like he's punishing his keyboard, heavy sighs about one thing or another OFTEN, taps his feet, bangs down his coffee cup, and slams his phone down whenever he makes a phone call, which is also often. He also does several of those things simultaneously and I get so frustrated that I begin fantasizing about beating him to death with my stapler.

I have found that certain songs on my iPod are good for drowning him out. I would, however, like to preserve my hearing well past my 30s, so I need to come up with an alternate plan. The room isn't really big enough to move out of earshot, but primarily I don't want to ask because I feel like a weenie for letting such silly things get to me.

I got turned down for another PR job and was telling my therapist (who I know I am lucky to be able to afford despite being underemployed) that I think I keep getting turned down for those jobs because they aren't my passion and the Universe knows this. As such, I'm working more on my art. I've been rearranging my house for a couple days so that I have a better space to make art. I've also been writing with Steele and/or Sterling for the past few weekends and been pretty successful with generating some writing, except for last Sunday's horrible social experiment. I suggested the cafe at Barnes & Noble. Our surroundings were quiet for all of half an hour before the crazy distractions set in, including two chattering biddies who didn't even seem to stop talking long enough to breathe. Next week, it's back to the library. It seemed limiting since we couldn't talk about our writing, but mandatory silence wins.

Writing with Steele and for Vox is helping me strengthen my writing muscle, which is especially important because I am once again considering grad school. I looked at the list of the top 50 schools in the country and picked out 14 solely for their location. Now I can start researching programs and seeing what sounds good, ideally for a dual degree in poetry and creative nonfiction. I love poetry -- it's what I primarily wrote until I took a nonfiction course almost 10 years ago -- but writing essays has become something I'm far more passionate about. I've researched grad programs a number of times since I graduated from college and figure if/when it's meant to happen, it will. It definitely has to happen on scholarship or fellowship because I'm already Sallie Mae's bitch. Insert fantasy about keeping loan repayment money and buying some throw pillows instead. Or puppies. Ooooh... bunnies! Clothes! Maybe just some gum. Or a LOT of gum.