Dammit. I just spilled Kool-Aid on my brand new Invader Zim: Ride the Pig T-shirt.

I wrote for about seven hours last night, minus Nintendo breaks (I've had a mad-on for NFL Blitz 2001 lately) to clear the brain. Tonight, I couldn't be bothered to write a sentence. I think that's partially because I'm stumped about how to actually start this beast that I spent all yesterday plotting out. The first sentence is always the hardest.

Or maybe I just have no discipline. I'll let you decide.

Wow. It's been a month since I wrote in this. Not on purpose. In fact, I often find myself mentally composing entries, but I never manage to actually type them in.

Not that it matters. I doubt anyone's reading anyway...

Strictly for posterity's sake, I've been away. For two weeks of the missing month, anyway. I was in Portland (Oregon, for those of you keeping track), presumably looking for an apartment. Though I'll tell you a secret: I really didn't do much looking. I wound up taking my fallback apartment, a sublease in the same complex as my friend James' place. Which, given the quality of places that I did manage to see, was definitely the best choice.

Only one hitch: The place doesn't open up until the first week in June. At first glance, this is a good thing, allowing me more time to prepare (like I haven't had enough already) and do the move right. But yesterday, when I was hunting for jobs, I ran across a position with Collector's Press. The position sounded great, a combination of sales, marketing and writing that was right up my alley, in a field I was familiar with. To my surprise, I got a call the next day after submitting my resume, but it quickly became apparent that I could either lie like a dog and probably get the job, or be honest and lose it.

I went with honesty. Part of the reason was that, well, honesty's the best policy. I don't know if I'd be a particularly good fit for what it turned out they wanted. Turns out it was mostly sales, with those other things thrown in as an afterthought. The other reason is that, honestly, I think I was uncomfortable at the thought of altering my plans that drastically. They needed someone Right Away.

That would mean sleeping on James' couch and putting my stuff in storage, which I could do, I suppose. But I'm lazy.

Then again, a job is a job, and right now, maybe that wasn't the best choice.

Bah. Stupid economy.

Back to the drawing bored.