As I mentioned in this post, I took this temporary job at the zoo hoping it would cure me of wanting to work there.
It worked. It's no fun anymore. It's gotten to the point that the management has sucked all the joy out of it.
So, I had come up with various plans to really dive into trying to make a full-time thing out of writing, now that I have a year's worth of respectable clips to send around. I have scary plans for a book proposal. I have a lot of projects I want to get started on.
I even decided to quit the job a little early, because now we're overstaffed and they really don't need me anymore.
So on my last day, it's 4.15, and I say, hey, I'm leaving a little early, what are they going to do, fire me?
The phone rings. It's another curator - one that I have always wanted to work for - asking if I could temp for him till the end of July.
I asked various questions about the situation (hours, computer access) assuming that I'd be able to say, oh sorry, I can't keep up my writing gigs if I do that, but thanks anyway.
But he was desperate enough that he told me the answers that I wanted to hear.
So I stammered and he said think about it and call me next week.
I DON'T want this job. I especially don't want it right now. But I would have killed for it at any number of times in the past.
I'm going to say no, after taking a couple of days to come to terms with it, but it's not easy. Are they ever going to stop &*%$ing with me????
You can't make this stuff up. If I put this bit of timing in fiction, I'd be told it wasn't believable.