I was actually in bed, about ready to turn out the light, when I remembered this.
I almost didn’t get up, but… well. I can live with missing a day (although I find it amusing and a little saddening that I started missing days when I was on vacation at home, rather than on vacation on the road). I don’t like it, but I can live with missing a day. But missing two days, that just seemed like that start of the end.
Was job-hunting today. It didn’t go very well–a lot of positions that require degrees or years of concentrated experience that I don’t have–but I found a few places to apply. I… keep feeling like I need to find some kind of focus, instead of scrabbling just to find the next job as quickly as I can. But I always end up feeling slightly guilty and ashamed when I do that; I’ve learned to see it as something almost prissy, putting aside one job because another might be better.
I need to stop doing that. There are a lot of jobs out there[1]. There is one day every twenty-four hours, and I should try and at least make sure I’m not doing something that grinds me down to where I’m too tired to think about what I’d like to do. I can afford to look, at least.
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[1] Theoretically. Work with me.