Day Jobs

I've been busy with my own for the last few days, hence no posts. Dressed in my suit, under flourescent lights, with a bunch of other folks dressed in the same drag.

I like my work. Mostly, I mean. As much as anyone does. By global standards, I'm amazingly, staggerly, heart-stoppingly lucky. I try to remember that. I suppose billionaires try to remember that, too.

I'm a lawyer by the way. For a trade union. That means good pay, great benefits, job security, and a pretty office with walls. And work that's about 80% interesting. I get to help people, which feels great.

But the law does suck up the time when I could write.

I'm way over resenting that, though. I'm certainly not letting it get in between me and my bad novels.

And I am confident that I will eventually evict my nagging fear that it might be getting in between me and a good one.