I'm a hard worker. I'm headstrong, I'm stubborn, and I get things done. I don't let people push me around.
And why does this matter?
Last night, I left the lovely state of Georgia after a wonderful afternoon later than I meant to. It took 8 hours (and almost an empty tank of gas...scary.) to get home. I arrived at 3:30am. I got Baxter settled back in, and then called New Mike (sorry I'm calling you New Mike publicly if you read this, but I've mentioned other Mike a lot!) to let him know I arrived safely. (I hear rumor he was worried. I have heart problems and took a caffeine pill before departing, which he discouraged me from, and he REFUSED to let me take a second when the first took too long to kick in. The single dose of 200mg resulted in me having a panic attack on I-95N, and not being able to breathe. Lovely....) Then went to sleep.
Less than four hours passed until I had to be up, shower (because I hadn't showered the day before), and get to work by 8am. So, I worked (and got SLAMMED) at the Front Porch from 8am-4pm. I couldn't breathe through most of it. My heart was giving me trouble but I kept on. I've been at Kitty Hawk Kites since 4pm and will remain here until 10pm.
Because I'm going to Seattle on Tuesday to ideally start the rest of my life. And I am strong enough to work my ass off, and get money to help send me there. I work three jobs to support my writing habit (and my dog). I will get my break, mark my words.
Also. The eye looks much better. Will post a picture sooonnnnnn. :)