Working Limp

I never, ever, ever, ever, ever, ever, ever thought I'd be saying this, but I miss working. I miss going to work. I miss having my little spot with my little list of things to accomplish that day. I miss having a scotch tape dispenser on my desk. I miss scolding myself for checking my personal email too much on the company clock. I miss going for coffee with coworkers. I miss sick days. I miss coming back to my office after a vacation, dying to catch up on everything huge and tiny that I'd missed. I miss opening a fresh pack of post-its from the supply closet. I miss answering the telephone with a very deliberate, professional tone. I miss the ten-minute period before going home where I'd pack everything up (except not the tape dispenser), make a to-do list for the next morning, turn off my lamp and shut the door behind me. I miss talking to people. I miss meetings. (Seriously, Brenda, I do.) I miss solving tough problems in a really kick-butt way, especially those with highly annoying, difficult or self-righteous people involved. I miss my file cabinets and the shiny rainbow of little plastic tabs that kept everthing so tidy and cheerful.

I.

MISS.

PAYCHECKS.

So, I'm on a quest. Don't know if this quest will last twenty minutes or til the cows come home, but I'm trying to get some editing and/or proofreading work. I've been contacting agencies in Copenhagen and the States, so hopefully something will come through soon. (How about you, eh? I spell AND write good!) Just this afternoon I unpacked a handsome little tome entitled -- Barron's A Pocket Guide to CORRECT GRAMMAR. With this baby in hand, the bids and contracts will start flying in toute suite! But...will Barron fill me on all the gossip after a three-day weekend?