Further Thoughts on Unemployment
It is truly amazing how much work I'll do to avoid doing work.
Theoretically I'm supposed to be filing stories off to various magazines--because there's a dreadful dearth of writing work in this town. In fact, aside from the job I moved here to get there doesn't seem to be any.
Mme gave me permission not to worry about anything in particular for the first week. But I do feel some obligation to both submit work and take care of the house. So the house is getting cleaned within inches of its life. Because I seem willing to go to any lengths to avoid sitting down and polishing my work and then submitting it.
I have been dogged all my life by a fear of completion. No kidding. It's not pathalogical, but it does rather explain why after some fifteen years my Nash Metropolitan is still in a state of disassembly. Fortunately, the house is so far from perfection that I won't have to face my fears for quite a while.
Which is why I'm writing this post. I hereby declare before my Avid Fans (all five or so of them) that today I will make an effort to send a story to a publication, any story, any publication.
Now if you'll excuse me, I gotta go polish my sink. And no, that's not a metaphor for anything. It's a Flylady baby step.
It could be worse. I could be sitting on my ass in track pants watching soaps and eating "bon-bons". Sitting in one's track pants playing Pokerstars clearly is a different matter ...