Ah, freelance work. So freeing! Glamorous! Lucrative!
Ha. Fucking expensive is what.
I was shocked at my tax bill, especially considering I made, oh, about $10K less than I did in 2006 and had massive deductions for health insurance, until someone reminded me that I don't have an employer to pay Social Security taxes for me. Oh, right. Well, fuck me, then.
I sent big checks yesterday, and still only paid about 1/3 of what I owe. Woo.
I am officially (even more of) a total nerd: I submitted an entry to the New Yorker cartoon caption contest. If they pick it as a finalist, I will ask you to vote vote vote (like a baby stoat). If they don't, I will be too embarrassed to tell you what it was, so no need to ask.
I went to get coffee this morning, to the Sherm, and a man with a beautiful and sweet German Shepherd was in front of me. After I got my coffee, I went over to the bank, to get enough cash to buy the Sunday paper. (Which I have to admit, I buy only for the crossword puzzle. Which I managed to finish today.) As I got there, the same man was leaving the bank, and asked, "Are you following me or am I following you?" I laughed, and said, "I'm following the dog!" Which I thought was cute and funny, but thinking about it, maybe it was rude? Maybe he was flirting with me, or just being friendly, and I shut him down, this seemingly nice man with his lovely dog. I don't know, but I'm still thinking about it.
Still thinking about it, this fleeting thing, and I wonder if this is emblematic of why I get so stuck. I think and think: I don't ask, I don't tell, I don't act. I think and ruminate, and get stuck in a self-contained loop of memory and supposition. I want to stop thinking and start doing, but things get in the way. There are other things, but I think this might be fundamental. And I wonder why and wonder whether this is really a problem, or if I just make it one.
Think think think. I think I'm thinking about this too much.