We've not been keeping up with the paperwork and it's entirely our own fault. We have everything we need to file for background checks, we have the cards to get our fingerprints done, and we have the book (yes, 63 pages counts as a book) of the regulations which the house needs to be brought up to speed on. But what have we done?
Diddly and squat. I've taken one of the online safety courses and the wife has had her physical and TB test cleared. Besides that, nothing. Nada. And there is no excuse for it. Sure the holidays had us tied up with family and so forth but it's not as if we've been turning off the television and skipping the shows to get some of the paperwork done.
Monkey needs to do and not see.
2) Six months and counting
This week is my six month anniversary at $TelCoHQ. The job is nice. There's a lot of room to do extra-curricular activities, such as this diary. The past few weeks have been busy cleaning up data as part of an ongoing effort to start auditing ourselves. People go home at reasonable hours, if they come into the office at all. Lots of teleworking. Money is not as good as last year but it's sufficient to get bills paid and at least one of our cc out of the way by year's end.
So why do I keep eying the email I got last week from the old recruiter? I've not responded and it's getting to that point which I should say something, affirmative or negative. I still feel a bit put out that nothing happened with the two awesome interviews I had last spring. But it's not their fault if those companies decided at the last minute to "re-engineer" the positions. Frankly, I think I got used to bring another candidate's price down and that idea leaves me feeling extra-greasy slimy.
Not what I want to be distracted by.
3) Educational Opportunities
Either with foresight or with stupidity, I put as part of my corporate goals the looking into grad school.
What in the seven hells was I thinking?
First of all, I've got no clue what I want to study. More computers? English? Psychology? I think that Cognition would be awesome to get in to. I love my brain and want to know why it works. But what sort of application? Intelligent systems? Neurobiology? Intelligent neurobiology?
So I get into the program. I take the MCAT or whatever. I get a scholarship or three to pay for it. I get a masters. They talk me into doing a PHD. And then what? Teach? Research? Build cyborgs?
Actually that last one sounds cool. Unleash an unholy army of computer enhanced dogs and cats with bionic thumbs and take over the world. Too bad there's not a evil scientist university around these parts.
On a more serious note, the conflict with going back to school lies in:
4) The Writing Writer
Output is up. I've edited and rewritten three of the four WFRPv2 mods so far and shucked them out onto the personal site. Mod #3 is in the same category of "shit not done" as the foster care paperwork. I'm trying to get it out on the web by the end of the month but at this point I'm not sure I'll be able to make it.
I've fallen into a practice of writing little snippets of text at random into a notepad window on my second screen as they occur to me. It gets them out of my head so I can get back to the page in front of me.
The NaNo idea this year, a bit of urban fantasy called Arcane Division, has had a story/character bible started for it. I've been conducting character interviews and setting up a timeline and trying to figure out where I can get some information. Like if someone has a Criminal Forensics degree from MU, does that mean they still have to start as a uniform on a beat or can they immediately apply to become a detective in the KCPD? What if I switched it to Boston or Chicago or Atlanta? How much about those towns am I going to have to research in order to get a decent feel of the town for readers to engage readers' suspension of disbelief?
Fuck if I know. But you know what?
It feels great doing it. It has been the same fire I felt when I was in college the first time and getting a project working. There's this fire that fills my mind, a burning that wants to consume every thought. It's addictive and I want to experience that sensation all the time.
This past week has been frustrating since I've had zero time to do any writing thanks to family engagements the last couple of nights. The only thing is I don't know where it's going. I don't know if this effort is for simple intellectual vanity or if I can turn it into an actual published work or three.
If I go back to school all of it, the mods, the novels, everything is going to have to be set aside so I can concentrate on projects, classes, and grades. This goes doubly if we do finish the foster process and start getting kids. Short of quitting everything and turning writing in to my full time job, it goes out the window with any sort of variant in conditions.
For the past week that's been taking up my spare cycles. Weighing the pros, the cons, trying to figure out where my priority lay, where I'll find the most joy and happiness. What will pay the mortgage, keep me and the wife happy and together, what'll be best if kids enter the picture. How far can I push myself, now that I'm in my thirties, slightly out of shape, and getting enough gray on my chin to make the goatee look like something a Bond villain would have. Trying to project out three years, five years and other mug's games.
But I can't know, not with any real certainty. It's all guesses. Educated and otherwise. And it's started to invade my dreams. There's been mazes this week. Distant voices all calling to me and without ending. There's been a distinct lack of resolution to the mazes, no finding where the voices are coming from.
I need to figure it out soon or else I think I might start losing what little sanity left to the waking world.
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