Well, I guess we have a doctor. I felt comfortable with her, certainly enough for now. I suppose the real test of any doctor is what they do when something changes, but there's no way to know that in advance. For now, though, this is fine.
I haven't gotten any temp work yet. There's something likely for next week, so I'm trying to enjoy my freedom while I can - swimming, reading, taking Cody to the off-leash park. I am dreading temping, with a fervor out of all logical proportion. I know it will be fine. I do. But I have a completely sick dread of it anyway.
I think the full effects of losing my great writing gig is just hitting home. When I wrote the first manuscript, I was under such enormous pressure - moving preparations, Buster's illness, saying goodbye to friends and family in New York, and still working my weekend job. I sometimes felt on the verge of exploding. (Indeed, I did have at least one full-scale panic attack.)
Even under those difficult conditions, I enjoyed the work. I was so looking forward to writing the next manuscript under greatly improved circumstances - without a day job, working away in our cozy little house near the lake.
Believe me, I'm well aware that I have little to complain about in the larger sense. My non-writing work is always in demand, so there's little danger of serious financial crisis. And I still have writing work I enjoy, it just doesn't pay enough to live on. My working life will return to what it's usually been - part word processing, part writing. It was just savouring that taste of full-time writing, then having it snatched away, that sucks.
I'm off to enjoy my day. For those interested, a long discussion about censorship and so-called obscenity laws is going on here.