My office is actually the most depressing place that I have ever been right now. (I mean, not in terms of pestilence and famine, but in terms of the 100% despair to human ratio. Usually at least there's a delivery person or something stopping by to liven up the works.) As L says, "We're circling the drain."

As the employment market is wholly terrifyingly sucky (see, I am only one drop in the vast FLOOD of people escaping the real estate and finance world), I've come up with some new potential job plans:

1) Start a bicoastal Craft EmPORNium with rosewildeirish and any other interested parties. It will serve the niche market of those women who love spending hours in a craft shop but would prefer a venue with a secret back room. One-stop shopping! And just imagine the jewelry and knitwear we would turn out!

2) Spontaneously become a freelance copy writer. My coworker L has an outdated degree in graphic design and, well, I'm good at taking the discombobulated rambling of excited entrepreneurs and turning it into short descriptive text. (Thanks to Dad for the training in that, by the way!)

3) Scrape together a living by selling various things I own and/or can make. Supplement income by bartering clever flirtations for dinners from male acquaintances, and release aggression by perpetrating acts of creative vandalism.

4) Collect unemployment and turn tricks on the side to pay for continued health insurance. (We'll call that one plan F.)

5) Screw sobriety and drink a whole fucking lot.

I wish this had happened a few months before the holidays so I would've had time to convince everyone I know that they really want to buy made-by-Little-Red xmas cards and handmade gifts. I'm circling the drain of woe, guys! Somebody help!