Hey, look at that, two posts in one day!
Usually I like to spread the love a bit, but I realized I hadn't done the "2010 recap" post and, like Christmas cards, that really needs to get done before Epiphany (ah, the irony) so let's get started.
I'm back with the parents now and feeling like a properly unemployed writer. Well, mostly unemployed, really, because all the traveling is kind of getting in the way of the writing. First there's New York (cold, brrr...) then Namibia, South Africa and Australia (warm, aah...) I return a happy bunny.
OK, that's it, time to get serious. Now that the half marathon is out of the way (good god why did I do that to myself?) the book needs to be priority number one. So I focus, head to the South of France, and hammer out the pages. By the end of it I have come to two thirds of the novel and the unpleasant realization that I am not over my exes. Not being able to get over one ex is unfortunate, but not being able to get over two? That's schizophrenic bordering on downright disorganized.
The final push on the book. I'm determined to get this done before the summer, dammit. And then I'm moving into my newly purchased flat so no time to get all Austen, must instead be interior decorator extraordinaire, sort of a Martha Stewart meets Philip Stark. It's all rather stressful, really.
After nine months of being willingly unemployed in the midst of the biggest economic crisis since the 1930s, it finally dawns on me, MBA-graduate that I am, that finding a job is going to be hard. Especially in Paris. Especially with my insane CV that doesn't seem to make sense to anybody unless they're Picasso (I have a very cubist CV - nothing is quite what or where it should be). And so I send out applications for random jobs, including one in Switzerland that makes my friends laugh when I tell them.
Turns out the random job was just random enough to be perfect for me, and there I go, signing on the dotted line and throwing away my Parisian life. There's just enough time to wrap up the edits on the second draft of the novel and send it off to agents before I pack up my newly-purchased flat (or rather, leave everything as is because I'm in denial) and drive off into the sunset (although that's not entirely correct, geographically-speaking, Switzerland being to the east - but who ever drives off into the sunrise?)
Oh dear Lord, here I am and I don't know what I'm doing. I have no friends, I have no clue about my job, and it's freaking cold. But hardship makes a girl grow stronger, or something like that, so I pick out a little flat next to some prostitutes, climb every mountain to work in the morning and think of some of my favourite things like chocolate (and put on three kilos). Julie Andrews eat your heart out.