Working from home eliminates the need for commuting, or so one would think. I ache for that commute time: that rubbernecking, traffic jammed, disabled car on the side of the road valuable me time. Nothing but radio du jour, or book-on-tape, or simple silence to think. To figure stuff out. Time to mentally prep for your day, unravel on the way home, to aptly switch gears from home to work
J.O.B.
I got a job. The kind where they pay you on a regular basis with a check that clears and a boss and an email and responsibilities and for christssake I may get a business card. I shit you not. Okay. So edit me. Censor me. I GOT A JOB! Can I tell you that since my last pity-party-posting, I have applied to 77 jobs I could do easily, and