Interview

Just kidding. Last minute move to Monday.



At 10:30 Central time, I have an interview. For a job! That has great benefits! And I know the president of the company because I have been freelancing for her.

So let's all hope it goes well. I haven't slept well in days, and I'm under the gun to get a lot of writing done. I have to shake that all off and look glowing and bright when I walk in. And say funny, intelligent things. These are feats on a regular day!

More later, as it is two weeks to the date that I leave for Hawaii!!!

Sleepless in St. Paul

Please, Sleep, wherever you are, please come back to me.

Spending time on hold for unemployment screwups is not my idea of a good time; especially when my payments are getting delayed and I'm sleep deprived.

Working on tiny details and remembering every little thing for everything I have to do in the next two weeks: not easy when sleep deprived.

Bah.

Full Time Freaking Out

Yesterday was 30 days until our ceremony date. We'll be in Hawaii in less than 25 days now.

I have more than enough work to keep me busy for many, many extra hours this week. I spent most of the weekend working.

My bank account is nearly empty; freelancing is great, but although you work, work, work, there's no check, check, check until publication or acceptance of the story. Once I get into a rhythm, I know I'll be ok, but I am broke right now.

Less than two months until our reception.

Oh, so much to do, so little time. I didn't sleep last night.

33 Days

Invitations have gone out. They are arriving in people's mailboxes, or already have. RSVP postcards will be coming back to us soon. We've got a contract for our tent/table/chair rentals for the reception. Two bridal showers down, a bachelorette to go. I'll pick up my tailored dress in a couple of weeks. My wedding sandals are somewhere in a UPS truck, on the way to my parents' front door. William's outfit is ready, his wedding band is sitting in a box on our dresser. I have begun thinking about what I'm packing. I leave for Maui in 29 days.

Everything is real, now. Invitations are arriving. That's the final-final for me—people are officially invited on fancy, letterpressed paper. Finalizing the fine details is now our realm, not pulling magazine pages or figuring out next steps.

I have enough work to keep me on deadline through May 12. I have an overabundance of work, which I hope continues.

I'm overwhelmed, in the best possible way, with change. I have never been much of a risk-taker or instigated a whole lot of change in my life. Mostly, things have happened to me along the way. Now, suddenly, I am on the brink of gigantic life changes, some of the largest I know of, career and marriage. I am surprised at the lack of freaking out, melting down. This tells me, partly, how static I've been, and also how much I must have been craving change, despite my inertia. This is the not the first time I've stepped off the edge and held my breath, made a freefall into something new, but it's definitely the biggest embrace of that tummy-drop feeling I've had, and certainly feels like the first. I almost feel like I could be on one of those makeover shows. . . combined with This Is Your Life. . . the thing is. When it's over, and I'm married. And I'm still writing and editing. It will feel like my every day, like I've never really changed at all. I'm still me and love the same things and strive for the same achievements. What a strange combination.

Today is rainy and dark and I'm stressed about getting a bunch of tasks completed. Two months ago, it would have been a recipe for a terrible, brooding mood. Two months ago I would not have had the tools I needed to lighten my psychic load.
Today is rainy and dark and I am stressed about getting work done. But my energy is different than it used to be. I'm giggling at my sweet, lovable, Muppetish dog, who's snoozing loudly next to me, her paws twitching, her chest heaving as though she is barking, she is sniffing and running in her mind, every once in a while the almost-imperceptible wag of her tail. Surely if she is able to access those good feelings in her mind, so can I. I have all these plans, all this future to think about.

It won't last forever, this high, and I know that. But I only have 30 more days to plan one of the biggest events in my life, this great happiness culminating in forever promises.

I'm riding that wave as long as I can.

Wake me up before you go-go

I think it's pretty well documented that I am not a morning person. I blame this squarely on a combo of my parents' night-owl genes (neither of them are much for mornings, or weren't) and thyroid disease. Once I developed thyroid disease, my sleep was never the same. I often feel tired, and when I hit the pillow, I'm down for the count. I rarely remember my dreams.

But I think the anticipation of this wedding has taken a fierce hold. I often feel pumped with adrenaline, wanting to be productive, wondering what I can conquer next. In the mornings, the alarm goes off for William, and trained like a cube prisoner that I was, I roll over and hit the sleep button. He always gets out of bed before the second alarm goes off, but I never realize it. I roll over to tell him to get up with the second alarm, only to find a rumpled mass of covers and the hear the sound of the shower running. I often doze while he gets ready, but he wakes me before he leaves, gently chiding me, "Wake up, love. Time to make the big bucks!" While my body-clock MO feels like I could sleep for hours more, once he closes and locks are door, all sleep bets are off. I'm usually out of bed 10 minutes later and planning my day. I can remember dreams, laced with anxiety: books I forgot to bring to class, running late for the ceremony, not getting my sandals in time.

Two Saturdays ago, I had a shower thrown in my honor at my future mother-in-law's home. It was so lovely. As soon as I get photos, I will post more details. I set my alarm that morning to make sure I'd be up early enough to get ready and not be rushed.I didn't need the alarm. I think I was bleary-eyed but awake around 7 am. I laid there for a while but eventually the butterflies propelled me out of bed. The following Saturday was a little more subdued and both William and I slept in til 11—super late for us these days. It felt heavenly. that might be my last sleeping-in until after the wedding.

Sunday I had my bridal shower thrown by my two best girls, Cindy and Sooz. Ding! Awake at like 8. This is just not ME, people. (Again, more shower details when I get photos). I was over there an hour early, just hanging around at my sister's house, because well, I was driving myself crazy at home. I was nervous. I never used to mind attention, but the older I get, the more I'd like to just show up at the party, and enjoy it, than be the guest of honor. Not that I don't appreciate the effort—I really and truly do, and they did an amazing job. There's just a lot of pressure, being that person.

Freelance work is also keeping me busy and creating a certain amount of anxiety—to get it all done in time, to have it done well, to hit the deadlines, to keep myself focused. Since I have been busy with invites and guest lists and rental stuff for the backyard, it makes it even harder. And with boxes lying around with shiny new appliances and electrics and nesting bowls and everything else, I couldn't even concentrate yesterday. I have another two or three freelance jobs lined up. They aren't glamorous but they are good and steady and a paycheck and a way to support myself a little while longer. I also had a big opportunity come through for some regular freelance work that I am pretty excited about, so we'll see how that goes. I'll keep you posted.

So today, after all that sleep talk—I'm exhausted. I can't seem to wake up from the dream-sludge state, despite my invigorating shower and grapefruit aromatherapy and tea and everything else. Again, this morning, as soon as I heard William's voice—I was up, even though we were up until midnight planning the backyard layout for the reception and talking budget for the wedding. I was so keyed up when we went to bed, I had to read to calm down. In the words of Penny Lane from Almost Famous—it's all happening. And I don't want to waste time sleeping, in case I miss it all.

It's Off To Work I Go

So I finished assignment number 1 today. 14 hours of work logged on it, so that's a pretty good check! Hooray! I have three assignments to go, nearly 7,500 words to write by the end of the month. That is a lot of writing and reporting, for reals.
But I'm still worried about lining up future work. I've sent out several applications for freelance, paid, blogging jobs and I have ideas to send out as pitches or queries to magazines. I know I'm armed with the information I need, but coming from the other side of the desk is somewhat disorienting and scary. I have to send out more letters, too, and those take time.

There are moments, too, where it's thrilling and the world seems full of possibility, and those feelings are becoming a little more frequent than three weeks ago, but now that I'm underway with work, and excited by the work, I'm scared that when it's over, it's over.

I'm hoping to set up a website for myself in the next couple weeks (God help me) as well as do some resume revamping and such. On top of everything else. So there's a lot to do, plus I started looking at a to-do list for the wedding. Eeek! Appointment with the tailor next Monday for some alterations. I think I've found the shoes I want but they've been waitlisted in my online order for a couple more weeks. I've made my hair appointment for cut and color for right before I leave for Hawaii. 48 days until the wedding, 44 days until I'm in Hawaii. That is CRAZY. Just CRAZY, people. I am getting married in a month and a half!!!!! That gives me chills and also makes me want to jump off the couch and get everything done today because it will be here before I know it, here and gone. There are still some things to accomplish for the reception too, pretty significant ones, so we need to get going on that this weekend.

And maybe I will have worked enough for these assignments that I can coast until the wedding and I start getting some acceptance letters for more work.

no postage

you will have to excuse my lack of postage (and lack of capitals in this post) these past couple days. i have been WORKING on some FREELANCE jobs. :) it's enough to keep me going until wedding-ish time... so that's good. next couple of weeks will be really busy because i probably took on a bit much, hence the reason i'm still editing at 9:16 in the evening.
but that's ok! i'm making money! on my own!

down side: what is UP with my skin? i am so broken out.

flying friendly skies, finally

That's right people, I am my own comic book character. Art done by William, taken from a photo he loves of me (I cannot figure out why he likes it so much.) Nonetheless, I love the comic book look he did to it. :)

And I deserve it today, people. I deserve to feel like a comic book character. Yesterday, my sister called me in a panic. Apparently ATA airlines had gone of out of business, suddenly and abruptly, leaving ticketholders stranded. I put two and two together pretty quickly . . . "Who's on ATA?" I ask. We leave in like . . . 50 days.

"Mom, Dad, Grandma, Chris, and Sarah," she says, effectively naming off all my immediate family besides her and her family.
I said something along the lines of "You have to be kidding me."

"I can't get a hold of Chris," she said. "I don't know if they know yet." (Chris is my brother; Sarah is his girlfriend; they booked their tix on the same flight but separately from my parents and grandma.)

Luckily I was on the way to my parents house as we spoke, so I arrived in a panic and immediately logged on to the grand ol' interwebs. My family was scheduled to fly the first leg through Northwest, then transfer to ATA for the rest. If that was the case, the website said, call the first airline you booked with.

I get on the phone with Northwest, expecting the worst.

I explain what has happened to the woman on the phone (the very nice, super accommodating, woman of my year hero). She puts me on hold and is gone for at least 20 minutes. My level of freaked-outed-ness is rising with every moment that passes.
She returns.

"We can refund your money entirely (whew, that's a relief, at least it won't all be lost, I'm thinking), or we can offer you seats on a different flight, but it will [effectively double] the cost," she says.

"Double?" I say, scared.

My mom says, "Take the refund."

I'm too scared to take the refund—what if we don't find seats later? What if they get even MORE expensive? But I grudgingly say, "I guess we'll take the refund."

I can't remember if this was the point where I mentioned something about it being my wedding yet or not. I think maybe not. Maybe it was the tone of my voice. She says "OK, let me start the process. I have to put you on hold."

Another 20 minutes passes. Now I'm really nervous. What is taking so long?

She returns. "OK, actually, I can get the three people on the flight for the lowest price. So that means status quo. But that might change in the next five minutes, so you have to decide now."

"OH MY GOD! You mean like no charges no nothing, same price, done deal?" I ask.

"Yes," she says.

"Oh my God, thank you so much, this is for my wedding and is like my whole immediate family and yes we'll take the deal, oh my god, thank you so much," I realize at this point I'm gushing like an idiot and having one of those bridal moments, but I don't even care.

"Oh congratulations!" she says, her voice warming over the phone. "How exciting! I'm so glad I double checked some things!"

"Oh wait," I say. "There's one problem. My brother and his girlfriend are also on this flight and I want them to be able to get the same deal but they booked separately . . . is there .... any . . . any chance at all that could happen?"

I'm figuring flat "No" at this point since security and all and I don't have their flight info or credit card or even if they know what's HAPPENED yet.

I start furiously texting Sarah as she puts me on hold yet again to check on the possibility.

She comes back, as I'm getting a text from Sarah, who's a little confused but hanging with my hastily typed (misspelled, vague) texts anyway.

"Well, ma'am, we'd love to, but they've already been issued a refund for their tickets."

Nooooooooooo.....

"Well, um, I KNOW that they would want this deal," I say, praying they haven't rebooked elsewhere yet. "I just KNOW." She puts me on hold again.

Minutes pass. I hear about the frequent flyer miles program for the eleventy millionth time.

She returns, "Ok ma'am, I think we can do that. Just hang on here while we transfer all this around." Then, a few moments later, "Ok, you can check out your itinerary online already, everything is all fixed up for you."

I fall all over myself thanking her for her help and the awesome rates and all that.

She cuts me off.

"I'm glad I could help! Now, are you getting married on the beach?"

The wedding privilege has kicked in, people. I swear that was the key. I honestly just mentioned it, not trying to get any special deals. But how else can you explain her letting me change someone ELSE'S flight, after they credited a significant sum back on their credit card? With airport security issues? And all she really wanted to know was the details of the wedding.

Aw, yeah. The wedding card got whipped out!

In other news, I saw Jessie Spano on the Today show the other day, and m'lawdy, she's had Botox! Talk about permanent surprise, but otherwise total lack of facial expression.

First bridal shower is tomorrow with my future mother-in-law! I'm excited!

Four freelance jobs lined up that should take me through this month, so that's good news, too. They're all things from people I know or had connections to, so we'll see what happens with cold applications and pitches and the like. That will be a big moment for me, if it happens.

And it's gonna be 58 degrees today! Nice way to head into a weekend, despite my blinding headache, second day running. I actually had those floaty stars yesterday and couldn't look at my computer. It was crazy.

Springtime Jam

Typical Minnesota. Yesterday it just snowed and snowed and snowed, for all the hours I was awake, trudging and blowing and swirling like winter didn't know it was March 31, and it was time to go out like a lamb. There was no light in the sky, and the flakes that fell were huge clumps of wet, heavy, plus-sized flakes, almost turning to slush before hitting the ground. And then today, April 1, it's like yesterday was an April Fool's joke a day early, with the sun shining as hard and as brightly as any day so far this spring, melting the snow off the roof of my building in loud, clunky, flailing chunks.

And here I am, at home, listening to R.E.M.'s new album, and I'm feeling so good. Even though I am jobless and trying to assemble some freelance and I have no promises or paychecks, the new album is so good that I feel like if I got out of my chair and jumped around that I might stay suspended, midair, because that is the power of R.E.M., especially with this new album which feels so much like old R.E.M. plus the best parts of new R.E.M. (and here I am talking about Berry-era and post-Berry-era) and "Supernatural Superserious" just makes me want to write notes in class and giggle. And that, my friends, is the transformative power of music, because, good God, this is otherwise a dark time in my unemployed bubble.

In another way, though, I feel more superserious than ever about my career. For example, I am now the proud owner of my very own copy of the Chicago Manual of Style, and come on, they're not cheap and usually you can get them at work and expense them. But this big ol' orange manual, with the dust jacket still shiny, is mine all mine. All unedited texts are shaking in fear. Fear this pen, text! Or you know, I went to OfficeMax today and it was actually because I needed office supplies, and really I've only ever wanted supplies, not needed them. And I can be a grownup and write them off on my taxes because, hello, I am now like Willikat incorporated, sorta. Now I just need clients. Binder clips? Check. Jobs to use them on . . . Let me get back to you.

Photos to come.

Courting the Employment World

Oh, God. I had a terrible realization today. Looking for a job is exactly like . . . dating. Some people are really great at dating and love it and its challenges and, for them, the ups give a thrill, and the downs can be drowned with a few glasses of wine.

I was never good at dating. Really. Boys didn't even like me. I have had like three boyfriends my whole life. Dating was essentially a disaster. Likewise, my career life. Not that people don't like me, but I never really did a lot of interviewing around. I had internships, which grew into jobs, which . . . well . . . now we're broken up. I'm a serial monogamist, I guess. (Of course, the concept of dating will be ending in less than sixty days!)

So now I've been sending out inquiries into freelance positions and I'll be writing pitch letters and all that kind of freelancy stuff. Sending emails, calling out, leaving messages and waiting for return messages to arrive from the great abyss. It's already started. I make a phone call. Do I take a shower? What if someone calls while I am in the shower? What about Molly? I think she has to go out, but what if I miss the ever-important ding with a bold-faced, new email? I know my cover letter wasn't the greatest one ever written, but it was pretty good . . . I wish they could see me for me! If they knew me, they'd know I'd be a valuable asset! Did I just use the term valuable asset. OH GOD. Now they think I'm cocky, and nothing could be further from the truth. Hmmm, I might have an offer. Do I bring up salary or do I let them pay? What do we say to wrap up the end of the night?

See what I'm saying? The lines between dating and employment are quickly getting blurry.

And at the end of the day, I do want something and someone that I'm in love with, that I can spend time with and be creative with, and can pour all my energy into. I am a good writer, a good editor (hey, I've won spelling bees!), and a pretty creative person. I can write quickly, on deadline, and with some panache. I work hard and I know when to ask questions and what to ask. But I don't want to look desperate. Good thing they can't see me checking my email or picking up my phone for the eleventy millionth time.

Edited to add: I also rock at vocabulary! Freerice.com has nothin' on me.

Things I Don't Miss

1. Getting up at 6:30 a.m.
2. Packing a lunch.
3. Dressing up.
4. Beige cubicles with no privacy.
5. Commuting.
6. My stupid computer that never worked. I'm finally done with you, Corrupted Fonts!
7. Dealing with copy that only concerned moneyed folk.
8. Being tempted to spend money since I was downtown and the smells of expensive coffee and designer denim were everywhere.
9. Internet monitoring.
10. Meetings!

It's not all bad.

It's Been One Week

I have not had a job for a week. It has been a wild rollercoaster of emotion. I swing from feeling sorry for myself to just plain sad. Frustrated at the loss of a four-year investment, my career, my energy, my creativity—all in a single half-hour. Clean out your desk, we're done. And yeah, I'm angry. I feel totally demoralized, degraded, and lost. Occasionally, but only occasionally, I feel a thrill of freedom, of possibility, and of opportunity. But that part has been very fleeting.

People have been saying that usually after a storm like this, something really great comes out of it. I hope so. But the idea of launching this full-scale search, of figuring out what's next, resumes, cover letters, interviews, freelancing . . . it is all so, so, so daunting.

Strangely, for a crybaby such as myself, I haven't cried that much. Just a couple jags. I really have been trying to just focus on what I do now. What I can do today. So far, that's included a couple of lunches (more on that later), some errand running, signing up for a media group, and lots of talking.

One great thing that came out of being able to be off of work was meeting Doahleigh! She's in Minneapolis for a business trip, and I live here and currently have no schedule! I picked her up at her hotel--so fun, I already knew who she was, so it was like picking up an old friend. And we picked up right away with conversation—also fun. She's just a doll. We had lunch at Spoonriver—continuing our [mostly internet] parallel lives, we ordered the same thing—and had dessert at Cupcake (mine was Razz-ma-tazz, a combo of chocolate cupcake, raspberry jam, and frosting, and hers was Orange Dream). Mine was super tasty, I think Doahleigh liked hers, too. We had a lovely time talking and driving around the Twin Cities! She is incredibly fab. So if you don't read her already, go check her out. It made me wish she lived here! Finally I could have the real-life get together you California readers talk about. Doahleigh took a couple pictures...I did not. I am bad. So you'll have to check out her recap when/if she writes one. Hooray!

Other things: Thank God I have a dog. Molly keeps me lots of company during the day, and if she notices I'm getting upset about anything, she has adopted this habit of lying on my lap, paws aloft, and gazing at me until I giggle. She also has been putting one of her front paws on my heart if I start to yell or express crabbiness. I don't know where that is coming from, but consider me a pile of mush when it happens.

I am so lucky that I have a wide support net to catch me during this freefall. It is sucking mightily, and I appreciate all the encouragement.