The Shape of a Day

I have been trying (not always successfully, but that's what "trying" suggests) to spend 4 hours every day on job-search stuff. That doesn't just mean refiddling my resume, looking at job boards, and working on the Google Analytics online class I'm slogging through, but trying to sort out what kind of work I want to be doing (administrative in the "making things happen" sense--keeping things on target, herding cats, etc.), what kind of company I want to work for (congenial and perhaps a little eccentric, without being completely in love with its own zaniness), and who I might know who could connect me to opportunities. That last is my least favorite part of this whole bleeding enterprise, and yet it must be done.*

I'm also trying to work 2-4 hours a day on The Fate of Women (Sarah Tolerance #4, and yes, I know it's a piss-poor title, but it's holding up the book right now, and I'll come back to it later). Last Friday I suddenly understood some things about the plot which let me churn out 1700 words of actual move-the-plot-forward prose.

I'm also doing a lot of cooking (Becca, being home, is deluging me with fascinating recipes; we made butterscotch ice cream this weekend and then, with the left over egg whites, meringues to go with it). And beading in the evening while I have the TV going in the background.

And yet I keep feeling like I'm not accomplishing much. I don't think it's that my standards are too high, but what do I know.  Back to work.