Those who have met my cat know he's not very vocal. Usually he only does it demanding to go outside by a door. So I know it's bitching at me when he's in the hall herding me toward the bathroom meowing the whole time.
Writing took a hit with all this. I've only managed to eek out a page in the rough draft. The scene isn't giving me any trouble, so I think it has been a matter of focus and concentration getting used up. I only have to schedule three to four demo a week for part-time (I initially thought it was ten) so my fears of decreased writing time are gone. The only drawback I've found is the second job's no jeans policy, which I do understand. But it looks like I forgot today was Friday at the DOI.
Demos are scripted, but they let me tap into my improv skills that I haven't used since I hung up my cutlass. So any time the Fear Monger tries to twist me up to anxiety-addled-me my response is a laugh. "This is no different from renfaire, only I have a lot less crap hanging from my waist." Seriously, I should weigh my belt of renfaire gear
Plus I'm broke enough to make prostitution of my mind look like a good idea. How far before I contemplate prostitution of the body? If this job keeps me from thinking that they are viable options, I'm in a much better place. Last plus, I can walk away once I've paid things off. Unfortunately, because of how crazy this week has been, I haven't developed my timeline estimate for when that will be yet. Four of my Big Rocks for this week deal with the Budget and I've only gotten one done so far. I've got a busy weekend planned making up for what I've missed.