And so it begins...again

If you're close enough to know me well, you'll understand that as a person I am hardly ever satisfied with my current position.

Movement needs to happen. Sitting on my rear for so many months has left me with cankles, soreness and a severe lack of drive. While it is fulfilling enough to live with a roof over my head, fueling the minds of young deviants, I have yet to break through the desire to write until my fingers fall off. This is also a reminder to scale back the Raptor claws, which I usually keep short for the typing of articles and AIM messages but grew longer in a fit of femininity.

I need a challenge.

Therefore, the job search starts up again. And therefore, this blog starts up again. My apologies for the state of the Spectrum; I have been lulling on my own sea of doubt and complacency.

The knock on the noggin came roughly three or so weeks ago when I had to pay for a bridesmaid's dress. Then thought about the cost of shoes for said dress. And the plane ticket. And the travel. And the lattes I'd have to buy to stay awake.

The accumulation of bills, obligations and destined-to-be-empty Starbucks cups are what shot me out of the cannon and back into the job market. I have applied for two or ten gaping handfuls of positions, only to be blatantly ignored once again.

Someone remind me why I relegated myself to domestic semi-bliss? Please?

I am no domestic diva, despite the cookie baking and occasional vacuuming. I bleed Webster's Dictionary and would die to live in a used bookstore or library. My soul needs letters, sentences, punctuation and poetic injustice...though I could also use a steady paycheck.

So, hardy readers, wanna throw a sad dog a bone?