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...anything but that.

Yes, yes, I know. Nothing here. Yet. But I'm working on it. I've decided to try to put a little more distance between my LJ/fanfic-writing self, and the self that would actually like to get, you know, published one day. Not to mention the self that teaches composition and has lots of thoughts on that front. So, I'm working on it.

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The first step...

Well, I've done it. I've admitted I need help. I can't do this alone, and it's not fair to burden Tor or Cheryl with it. I can't make Herself live in such chaos anymore. I've contacted a professional organizer. With G-d as my witness, I will never trip over my carpet cleaner again. What did you think I was going to say? You'd think I had a history of dramatic announcements involving my mental health or something...

Today.

I am in a public workplace which happens to be an academic environment where the faculty is half women, dressed as I wish, and I have barn-door-wide-open discourse on an uncensored Internet. They haven't won. It's good enough for me.

So. Good news for you guys...

The bad news is that I got laid off. Which means I'll be writing more here? Yay? It was about three o'clock or three-thirty. The admin dean and the admin director took me into an office and ripped off the band aid right away, which I appreciated. The school budget is just a wreck, and given that I was still technically on my probation, and I had the least seniority, I was the one elected Judas goat to be sacrificed upon the altar of academic finance (or lack thereof). Baa. To be fair, they gave me names and numbers, urged me to speak to campus HR, and promised glowing recommendations. However, I'm finding I'm getting pretty damn tired of my income hinging on the whims of others, not to mention the winds of fate. So, yeah. Maybe this is what I need to get my tuchus in gear. Silver lining, anyone?