Sigh. I just found out I didn't get a job i really wanted. I really wanted it. It paid almost half my regular rate and was in Van Nuys - who wouldn't want a winner like that?!
The eternal optimist (let's call her Sunny) is literally at this moment in a knock-down-drag-out fight with Igor, my wretched, ugly ego. It sounds like this:
IGOR: You've got no prospects now.
SUNNY (her hand slamming over Igor's chapped lips): You've got nothing but prospect now! You're freeee to find the PERFECT job!
IGOR (pries her hand off): Do you even know what you want to do?
SUNNY (rolls her eyes): Life is about discovery! How BORING to know everything all the time! The unknown is where you get creative!
IGOR (rolling his eyes so hard they pop out. He catches them, prepared.): Speaking of creative, what about that script revision? Why are you blogging? If you used your time wisely, we'd probably have a job by now.
SUNNY (stealing the eyes from his hands and playing keep away): She can do whatever she wants! She's freeee!
Sunny dances away, juggling Igor's eyes. Igor runs after her, arms outstretched. He pitches to and fro, dizzy from the spins his eyes take in the air. He curses, Sunny laughs.
I digest all this along with the huge Chinese pity-party I ate for lunch. ("It's not love, Bianca." Shut up, Dr. Suck.)
They're both right. Technically. In a second, I'll resurface from the half an hour I've allowed myself to wallow in my pain cave, where Igor is king, and get back to my script revision (which is pretty awesome. Thanks, Sunny.). But first, ONOR.
No BS, I just opened to Onor, rather than peruse a few demons until I felt the right one for the situation at hand (...I heard Jersey Shore was good last night. Shut up, Boo, later.) and he genuinely made me smile.
Onor is a demonic squire (not sure of the difference, but "squire" is such an awesome title) with powers of illusion. His claim to fame is he can conjure up an illusionary castle. That's HUGE! Because its a big deal, he refuses to do it unless he receives a proper offering of milk and honey. (Could I love Onor any more? Likely, not.) He works on the tenth night of the moon in remote and secret locations.
And with my Onor-inspired smile, I shake off the pain cave. "What a Wonderful World" lilts in from my neighbor's apartment (nice timing.) I give Igor a nice fat finger, and get back to my revision.
Because it really is pretty damn good...
*Thanks to "Dictionary of Demons: Names of the Damned" by Michelle Belanger. Llewellyn Publications, 2010
The eternal optimist (let's call her Sunny) is literally at this moment in a knock-down-drag-out fight with Igor, my wretched, ugly ego. It sounds like this:
IGOR: You've got no prospects now.
SUNNY (her hand slamming over Igor's chapped lips): You've got nothing but prospect now! You're freeee to find the PERFECT job!
IGOR (pries her hand off): Do you even know what you want to do?
SUNNY (rolls her eyes): Life is about discovery! How BORING to know everything all the time! The unknown is where you get creative!
IGOR (rolling his eyes so hard they pop out. He catches them, prepared.): Speaking of creative, what about that script revision? Why are you blogging? If you used your time wisely, we'd probably have a job by now.
SUNNY (stealing the eyes from his hands and playing keep away): She can do whatever she wants! She's freeee!
Sunny dances away, juggling Igor's eyes. Igor runs after her, arms outstretched. He pitches to and fro, dizzy from the spins his eyes take in the air. He curses, Sunny laughs.
I digest all this along with the huge Chinese pity-party I ate for lunch. ("It's not love, Bianca." Shut up, Dr. Suck.)
They're both right. Technically. In a second, I'll resurface from the half an hour I've allowed myself to wallow in my pain cave, where Igor is king, and get back to my script revision (which is pretty awesome. Thanks, Sunny.). But first, ONOR.
No BS, I just opened to Onor, rather than peruse a few demons until I felt the right one for the situation at hand (...I heard Jersey Shore was good last night. Shut up, Boo, later.) and he genuinely made me smile.
Onor is a demonic squire (not sure of the difference, but "squire" is such an awesome title) with powers of illusion. His claim to fame is he can conjure up an illusionary castle. That's HUGE! Because its a big deal, he refuses to do it unless he receives a proper offering of milk and honey. (Could I love Onor any more? Likely, not.) He works on the tenth night of the moon in remote and secret locations.
And with my Onor-inspired smile, I shake off the pain cave. "What a Wonderful World" lilts in from my neighbor's apartment (nice timing.) I give Igor a nice fat finger, and get back to my revision.
Because it really is pretty damn good...
*Thanks to "Dictionary of Demons: Names of the Damned" by Michelle Belanger. Llewellyn Publications, 2010
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