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Productivity is one of those things I sometimes indulge in.
(Wait. Full disclosure here: many people (including my therapist) have pointed out to me that what I consider being lazy and not applying myself would be getting a lot done by other people. There, I admitted it, my sanity check people can stop gently glaring at me and muttering.)
So. Today involved dayjob stuff, quickly updating my resume and sending it to a friend at Amazon (because they've got a couple of editor positions I'm interested in), doing a supply run for Crankybloomers (which I am going to be selling at the Time Travelers' Rummage Sale in July and the Mourning Market in August), pulling out a bunch of trim for the Crankybloomers from the stash, chatting with some people about job hunting and resume stuff, and culling the closets for items to sell at the Time Travelers' Rummage Sale. (The amount of ruffly, quasi-Victorian stuff I'm letting go of is mildly astonishing, even to me. Oh, and boots! I'm even selling a pair of 8-eye Docs.)
And tonight I'm going to do some writing and website upkeep.
So why do I feel as if I've been slothful and haven't gotten anything done? Oh brain, why are you determined to serve me crazycakes?
(Wait. Full disclosure here: many people (including my therapist) have pointed out to me that what I consider being lazy and not applying myself would be getting a lot done by other people. There, I admitted it, my sanity check people can stop gently glaring at me and muttering.)
So. Today involved dayjob stuff, quickly updating my resume and sending it to a friend at Amazon (because they've got a couple of editor positions I'm interested in), doing a supply run for Crankybloomers (which I am going to be selling at the Time Travelers' Rummage Sale in July and the Mourning Market in August), pulling out a bunch of trim for the Crankybloomers from the stash, chatting with some people about job hunting and resume stuff, and culling the closets for items to sell at the Time Travelers' Rummage Sale. (The amount of ruffly, quasi-Victorian stuff I'm letting go of is mildly astonishing, even to me. Oh, and boots! I'm even selling a pair of 8-eye Docs.)
And tonight I'm going to do some writing and website upkeep.
So why do I feel as if I've been slothful and haven't gotten anything done? Oh brain, why are you determined to serve me crazycakes?
