My current job: Executive Assistant to one of the top officers of a Fortune 500 Company. Long hours but pays well. Great benefits. Top of the food chain as far as admins go. Working in the middle of Midtown Manhattan. Bus stop across from my building a plus. Doing something I like to do: Taking care of people. Love all the technology that cames as part of the set up.
My dream job: To be my own boss to be able to afford to invest in a business where it doesn’t matter whether or not there is a healthy bottomline. (In short, I’d like to be in a position where earning a profit doesn’t matter.)
That’s why it’s a “dream” job.
I want to put up a retail store somewhere in the Upper East Side where I can sell one-of-a-kind pieces from the top fashion designers of Manila. And on the side maintain my own craft room or craft cave where I can have all the fancy materials to create — my personal art, my jewelry, without having to worry about the day job that pays the bills.
I’d love to be able to spend the day on a regimen of creativity — and in between worry about what I would be having for lunch or where, and get all the creating done before Angelo gets back from school.
I want to be able to write without clocking myself and making sure I do it during my lunch hour or at the end of the day.
Reminder to self: Buy lotto.
So I’ve been trying to speed up the layouting. I have less than two weeks to complete all the blog prompts and assemble the book. I’m getting there.
I just finished another Artist Trading Card set of two to trade away, and I have my first “zine” or mini-magazine to pull together for sending out on th 28th. I am not too worried as I have a ton of articles/materials to pull from here. I’ve even done a mock layout of my pages already.
Meanwhile I have a splitting headache yet again. Aleve has been no help. I’m hoping I do better tomorrow. (I hate relying on the meds to deal with the pain.)
Next week, I turn 47. No sense being coy about the birthday — I never wanted to make a big deal about it, that’s all. And 47, unlike 46 suddenly feels much, much older.
I’d like to write more about that and the overbearing shadow of chalking up another year in this world but my eyes are not cooperating. (Age again..ha!)
Celebrating birthdays has always been a big deal to me, but no one has really made a big deal of celebrating my birthday. Maybe that’s the reason why I’m so hung up on celebrating others. Not anymore. The only birthday that really matters now is someone who’s turning 9 in May. I watch him and I can’t help but marvel at how much he’s grown.
His greeting, among all other greetings, is the one that matters the most.
PS. My blog stats has been moving up dramatically but I only hear from the usual suspects (namely Lou…) — I would appreciate a squeak from the others who come by. Do say hello..