I should go to bed, but the true obsessive-compulsive doesn't stop what she's doing merely because it would be the rational thing.

My "audition" for the gig that I'm almost positive I really want is this coming Wednesday. After that, my niece flies into town—that very night.

It feels like I'm about to have No Time for Anything, Ever Again in My Life. But that would be just fine, if I also had those. . . what do they call them? The happy paper thingies. Um. Paychecks!

Actually, the thing to do is set aside that feeling of desperation, and try my best impression of someone prepared to do rational analysis: figure out what hours I'd like to work if I'm going to commute, and how many days a week I'll crash at my mom's place. (She's in the next town over, and has an extra room; quite the resource, huh?)

And, given all that, get a REASONABLE idea of what salary level would compensate me for having to work in El Segundo. I should set that figure higher than it would be for a job in L.A. or Pasadena; that's for sure.

Posted by: Attila Girl at 12:33 AM | Comments (2) | Add Comment
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