The first rainstorms of Spring are always surprising, at least to me.
Uncharacteristically difficult for me to get jazzed about Wicker Park, though.
I'm getting close to the two year mark.
Still kicking, but screaming a bit now and then.
Anger is not a worthy emotion.
Nor is regret.
I've put a lot of time into this thing.
Few hours for social life outside of a full-time job, plus the pipeline.
Few hours for just chilling out.
Few hours for being anything else to anyone else.
And yet still, the PR people send emails.
The neighborhood groups expect I'll link to them.
The contributors need direction and/or guidance as well as payment.
The advertisers require attention.
The non-profits trust I should be jazzed to feature their fundraiser.
The folks who are funded to do things want me to help spread their news, again.
The would be reporters write in with ideas.
The citizens send interesting news leads (favorite part)
The day is over aways before I am ready for it to be done.
Because there's always something to be done.
Work might not be enough
To keep me working, like this.