So, a few weeks ago, an angel from above directed an email to me.
OK, not really. Well, sort of. I got an email from an acquaintance looking for copywriting help at her marketing agency, just a few hours a week.
Kids? I got me a real, live J-O-B. I started today.
Yes. I'm doing copywriting for a small marketing firm, 5-10 hours a week. It's a nice complement to my freelance writing and still enables me to spend most of my time in yoga pants. Actually, I could wear yoga pants to this new gig, but I'm trying to view it as an opportunity to practice not looking like a hobo.
Speaking of being fancy ... the building that houses my new office is a mixed-use development. Basically, it's a high rise with some offices and a bunch of condos. And if you've ever watched "House Hunters," you know that high-rise condo buildings come with a bunch of stuff. So, with my 5-10 hour a week gig, I now have access to a movie theatre, a big ol' gym, and ... an indoor penthouse-level pool overlooking the downtown skyline.
I've never had a job that had a pool. Not even the summer I was a nanny ... we didn't have a kiddie pool, but just ran through the sprinkler.
During the building tour today, I tried to act all, "Oh, sure, every place I've ever worked or lived has had a hot tub - whatevs." But really, it just made me laugh - especially since I've been back on baseboard patrol at home. "Home" does not mean "community spray tan facility in the basement" to me. No, to me, home means "that place where you are slowly but surely repainting every surface and starting to consider trim painting as your number 1 hobby, or possibly even a religion."
I guess there are parallels with the spray tan and painting baseboards. Folk tend to be pretty hardcore about them both.