I can't think well enough to write coherently right now. My muskles hurt from carrying big boxes, my head hurts probably just from having a screwed-up sleep schedule. Two days ago, on Wednesday, I sat in a hotel office from 4:45 am till 10:30 pm. I wrote about it in my diary, but I didn't do the experience justice.

In case you don't hit the diary, I was the "office production assistant" on a commercial for NFL films that was shooting at the civic arena across the street from the hotel. I didn't get to see any of the filming or experience anything vaguely interesting except for when this twenty-something guy walked into the office. I said, "Who are you?" And he said his name and then asked, "You haven't heard of me?" "No," I said, and then he looked at the iBook I was using and we talked about computers and web design for a little while. He reminded me of Greg's brother Steve.

Around 8 pm that night, in between resting my head on my arm, answering phone calls and peeing, I drew a picture. It evokes, I think, the way I felt about the day overall.

I don't smoke, and I don't look anything like this person, but she = me. I cropped it a bit, though; you can't see where I wrote the date and "NFL FUN" at the top left. I know it's not that well-done, but I was only minimally conscious. And I mean, as much as I want to be a good artist, I have severe limitations.

I hope some time soon my life will return to at least a happy simulation of normality.

File under DAILY. Posted at 12:00 AM

I worked 18 hours yesterday. I keep wanting to tell people that. I keep wanting to say, "Hey, I worked from 4:30 am to 10:30 pm yesterday," so they can say, "Man, that's insane," and I can say, "Yeah, I know."

I sat in a hotel office all day. NFL Films was shooting a commercial in the arena across from the hotel. I was the "Office Production Assistant."

I got up to pee a lot. It seemed like the phone only rang on the walk back from my pees. I would hear it ringing and then run into the room.

I read an entire issue of Marie Claire. There was some good stuff in it.

I drank a lot of water. (That relates to the peeing, I guess.)

I put three chairs together and tried to nap for about twenty minutes.

I faxed some stuff.

It was fun.

The job was related to my major (film) in only the most tangential sense. I didn't experience anything new or learn anything other than that I don't want to ever work an 18-hour day again.

I would, though, if it were something I cared about. I don't care about being an office PA.

File under DIARYLAND. Posted at 04:14 PM

I'm kind of surprised people still look at my diary. Maybe they think it's been such a long time since I've written something that I'll have to write something, eventually, and eventually might just be today. I've thought that about sites before.

I temped today. Yay. Money. I'll probably take home about $70 for the last two days. Not bad, considering I didn't do that much and still even got in some of the requisite search-for-jobs-on-internet time.

I did get a response to one of the resumes I sent out. I applied to be Web Content Editor for a web site that sells wine. I applied awhile ago. Yesterday I got an email from someone saying they got my resume and to call them if I was interested. It was a dry, not very friendly letter. I probably wasn't their first choice. But that I was any choice is somewhat confidence-inspiring. But I don't know if I could (or would want to) come up with story ideas on wine. What breaking stories occur in the world of wine?

The one possible bonus of that job would be free wine. If I had that job and went to a dinner party at your house, you'd know what I would bring as a gift.

File under DIARYLAND. Posted at 05:56 PM

Well, Beth is back after a hiatus from her life. I visited Greg in his hometown all last week while he was on spring break. We hung out, enjoyed cable television, went to a couple of bars, took a walk in "the bush" (known to you and me as "the woods"), saw The Badlees (band), saw a couple of unrecommended movies (namely: Stigmata and Snake Eyes - avoid Stigmata more), slept till noon daily, worked on cars, did a little shopping, ate yummy meals made by Greg's mom, and practiced other slothlike behavior. It was wonderful. I only checked my email twice. And I only thought about my job problems like two or three times.

So last night I was all geared up to get busy with the job hunt, but the Sunday paper was more worthless than usual. And I'm feeling a little sluggish. My eyes don't want to stay open. I am officially a slacker, I think. I should move to Austin. Not really.

File under DAILY. Posted at 12:00 AM

Check the previous dosage if you want to read my thoughts on "the controversy." I gotta warn you, though: it's long. I needed to vent a bit.

I've been taking a break from dorkist of late. But this week, Greg is home for spring break, Steve is working pretty much full time, and I'm going to be alone a lot. That means more updates, I think.

Expect a new ask beth (with a real letter, baby) in the next few days.

But wait, who am I talking to? Since hiding dorkist, I've been getting about three hits daily. It's sad, actually, to take myself off the market. I like when people read what I write. I want to achieve new fans. But right now, that's not as important to me as getting some work.

As soon as work happens, I'll reinstate the index.

Then the hundreds of fans waiting in the wings (I'm picturing screaming teen girls rushing a golden gate) will be able to inundate themselves with beth. Aren't you, current reader, jealous? I can tell.

Entries of higher interest to follow (hopefully).

File under DAILY. Posted at 12:00 AM