I had a phone interview a while ago for a job that I submitted my resume for weeks ago. Whether or not I get called back for a face-to-face, it was a nice and much needed self-esteem boost. I've been a little mopey the last few days over the lack of responses to all of my inquiries, analyzing my resume and cover letters and wondering what I'm doing wrong. But I guess the whole process just takes longer than I'd anticipated and I need to be more patient. The fish are finally starting to bite, and even if they're only taking little nibbles, it's very reassuring.

Downstairs, my mom keeps blasting music while she's cleaning, and it comes up through my floor crystal clear. Earlier it was Elvis singing gospel. Ah, Elvis and Jesus. There's a combination that's conducive to writing about a morally bankrupt supernatural critter. And now it's... somebody else singing more gospel. Methinks I'm going to have to go and find an elsewhere to be if I want to get any writing done. Yesterday I camped out on the back deck all day, and it was slightly overcast and cool and there were storms nearby but not aimed at us and I could hear thunder in the distance and I was surrounded by doggies and they were behaving and it was lovely. But today it's just hot.

I might drive all the way in to Nordaggio's, that neat little cafe all the frickin' way out by ORU that I mentioned in my LJ a few months back. Or maybe I'll just try my luck at Border's. I should leave my credit card home, because I have a sudden urge to bring home some Pablo Neruda and some T.S. Eliot. And some Christopher Moore. And also some Batman. There's other, less fun stuff that I actually need, though, like shampoo and antifreeze. Plus I need to find a public fax to submit my time sheet from last Sunday. So I might just have to practice some self-restraint. We'll see how that goes.

Ach. Bitch Kitty just dumped a bunch of CDs onto Fizzgigg's head. Poor puppy. Satanic cat.

Anyway.

I got a pretty good start on the second chapter before Elvis so rudely invaded my headspace, but nowhere near my thousand word quota, so I still need to hit that at the very least. While I'm out I might also work on developing an idea I had for a possible short story. I don't get original short story ideas very often, so I'd better not let this one get away. It's loosely based on a dream the other night wherein my temp agency sent me to go around handing out checks to people to cover their debts on behalf of Oprah (?!). If I lose Oprah and add a sinister plot, I just might have myself a story. *crosses fingers*