F

I don’t know if you can cuss in a title but the F word sums up my August 2022 situation so far.

Looking for a job has always been a horror shitshow for me. I guess I need a makeover/faery godmother/trust fund intervention here.

I got three rejections on the same day. Nothing new but they were awful quick after I’d sent off my hopeful little submissions. Whack me with a hammer. It’s kinder. Maybe.

I am writing. Terse little sci fi attempts, mostly. I did get an idea for a possible novel out of one of those sci fi stories. That’s something, right? I can’t seem to concentrate longer than five seconds right now, so might be a while before I actually force myself to attempt the first chapter.

Going to the Bonnie Raitt concert in Boise next weekend. A bright spot!

I’ll end there. Oh and the squash bugs have killed a pumpkin, a zuke and a cuke plant. Fucking things.

PS– I just, um, got a job. Just like that. Yeah. Weird. But hey, thanks for zooming through my words a bit today.