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In other news, I'm apparently bored with NaNo, as I haven't touched it in weeks. This is the nano problem: the muses that are willing to write that much that fast are muses that I hate to write. The muses that will actually give me a decent story are the type of muses that give me one or two sentences a year.
(And yes, Gabrielle and Alex, I am thinking specifically of you.) *thwacks muses*
So, yesterday was a pretty awful day for me at work. I was mean and kind of bitchy to a cardholder (in that way where I didn't actually raise my voice, but repeated everything four times, and then just lost interest in his excuses and asked them if there was anything else I could assist him with, and then when he complained some more, I read him his terms of agreement until he hung up on me) and one of the supervisors, Jermaine, came up to me and was all like, "Rachel, that was fantastic! You weren't rude, but you were firm, and that's exactly what we're looking for! I could tell in your voice that you were fed up with him. Yay, you!" (well, okay, that last line's a bit paraphrased.) And I blinked. And it occurred to me that my job wants me to be miserable, because that apparently makes me do a better job. Wuzzamuh?
And so, when my lunch break occurred ten minutes late, because of another really awful call, I scurried out of there into the cold and got myself a decent cup of chai over at the Starbucks in Target, and this little cranberry pastry thing, and then took fifteen minutes to wander back over to my job, in a walk that normally takes me like, three. And it was okay. There's something about winter, and walking in the cold with a cup of something warm held in your hands that... I don't know. It's like, seasonal and familiar, or some such thing. And everyone. Everyone in my brain was quiet for once.
Has anyone else been content for a few minutes, and then had to sit back and gauge whether it was really the fact that you were happy, or that the muses were?
In other news... I don't have any other news. Enchanted was cute to watch, and I think James Marsden is trying to creep into my actor's stable. I don't have to work today, so maybe I'll write all of those Heroes reviews I've been struggling with.
I'm currently writing what might become Supernatural non-con, which makes me unhappy, but apparently makes![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
nonewwitticisms delirious with joy, and the fact that I'm even mentioning it on my journal just tells me that it's actually going to be sticking around for a while.
The inside of my head itches. I'm in the mood to change into something new, but I don't know what I'm looking for, or what I want to become.
(And yes, Gabrielle and Alex, I am thinking specifically of you.) *thwacks muses*
So, yesterday was a pretty awful day for me at work. I was mean and kind of bitchy to a cardholder (in that way where I didn't actually raise my voice, but repeated everything four times, and then just lost interest in his excuses and asked them if there was anything else I could assist him with, and then when he complained some more, I read him his terms of agreement until he hung up on me) and one of the supervisors, Jermaine, came up to me and was all like, "Rachel, that was fantastic! You weren't rude, but you were firm, and that's exactly what we're looking for! I could tell in your voice that you were fed up with him. Yay, you!" (well, okay, that last line's a bit paraphrased.) And I blinked. And it occurred to me that my job wants me to be miserable, because that apparently makes me do a better job. Wuzzamuh?
And so, when my lunch break occurred ten minutes late, because of another really awful call, I scurried out of there into the cold and got myself a decent cup of chai over at the Starbucks in Target, and this little cranberry pastry thing, and then took fifteen minutes to wander back over to my job, in a walk that normally takes me like, three. And it was okay. There's something about winter, and walking in the cold with a cup of something warm held in your hands that... I don't know. It's like, seasonal and familiar, or some such thing. And everyone. Everyone in my brain was quiet for once.
Has anyone else been content for a few minutes, and then had to sit back and gauge whether it was really the fact that you were happy, or that the muses were?
In other news... I don't have any other news. Enchanted was cute to watch, and I think James Marsden is trying to creep into my actor's stable. I don't have to work today, so maybe I'll write all of those Heroes reviews I've been struggling with.
I'm currently writing what might become Supernatural non-con, which makes me unhappy, but apparently makes
nonewwitticisms delirious with joy, and the fact that I'm even mentioning it on my journal just tells me that it's actually going to be sticking around for a while.The inside of my head itches. I'm in the mood to change into something new, but I don't know what I'm looking for, or what I want to become.