The Boy and my bad choice of professions

So the boy decided he needed a new job last week. He sent his resume out Monday, got the call for an interview Tuesday, interviewed yesterday, got the offer today, and starts next Thursday. He's a programmer writer.

In comparison as an editor (technical and not), I will go through my last job search. I decided I needed a new job. I sent my resume out, got a call a month later for an interview, but that didn't pan out. I got another call about two months after that, but I wasn't quite right. I then got another call the next month, interviewed once on the phone and again in person, and they decided I needed to meet more people. They called me and asked if I could come in that day, but I was on vacation, so they said they would call in a week. I email them when I got home. Then I waited. I did the hokey pokey and other deeply influential dances. A month later they called back and offered me the job.

I should have been a programmer writer.

A small party

I need to throw a small party for the boy tonight: he completed his first novel! I couldn't be more happy for him, and he is happy to have it out of his head on paper now.

It was great. I came home last night from knitting, and he was all glowing with the excitement of it all. It made me reflect on when I finished Continuum. I don't know if I remember much besides writing "The End" and wanting to cry. I was so excited to have done it, to have actually completed a book. At the time, I knew a number of people who set out to write books, but they'd all gotten about 40-100 pages in and quit. I would worry late at night that that would be my fate, but alas it wasn't. And now, it's not the boy's fate either. Hooray for finishing what you started!