The more things change...

I am a monumental slack ass when it comes to this thing. What has happened since we last checked in with our hapless protagonist?

I went through what at the time looked like a series of very promising interviews (three, to be exact) with a very corporate caffiene distribution service, only to receive the form letter brush off. I was quite surprised, on a logical level; on a more visceral level, I kind of figured, since it always works out thusly for me. I felt an acute sense of shame when my SO read me the rejection letter over the phone; a curious response I still don't quite understand. I'm trying not to take it personally, but those (few?) of you who know me know what a challenge that is.

I have begun the slow process of making (semi)permanent changes to my body, and I have to admit I'm pretty pleased with the preliminary results. I've spent a decent sum on a beautiful Chinese silk corset from Canada, and am well into the second week in it. The slight discomfort is mitigated by my longterm goal (T&A!), the fact that it's just so damned pretty, and the slightly surprising and surprisingly unembarassing admission that I like how it feels.

As for the changes, well, they're subtle, but both I and my SO have seen a swelling in my hopefully soon to be a bosom (what little fat I have on my torso has to go somewhere, apparently). Nothing yet on the other end, but I remain hopeful (damned hope, for springing eternal and all that).

I have come to the conclusion that there is little in my life I can feel good about (in the rewarding sense; I feel damned good about my SO and my surprisingly stable and mature relationship with said person). That needs to change. I have never been one to take meaning from the work I do. Whether that is a result of personality, or having a series of relatively meaningless occupations is unclear, but I'd like to think it's more the former than the latter.

That's the drivel of the moment; enjoy.