I'm that chick who answers the phone

"Safety and Security, this is Genevieve."
"Hi, I need to pick up a new ID. Where are you guys located?"
"We're right between the hazardous materials dump and the morgue."
Silence on the other line.
"I mean, the laundry room."
"Oh ok, great."

This is not how my conversations generally go, but more rather how I would like them to go. I would like to tell people that my department is between the hazardous materials dump and the morgue because it is true and because it is more exciting than saying that we're around the laundry.

I've found time to write again. Saying this gives me the same sensation as splashing cool water on my face. You know, like when your face gets hot and cool water feels nice on it. No? You can't identify with that comaprison? Well, like I said, I've begun writing AGAIN, meaning I've been out of practice, meaning my writing skills are rusty. Rusty like bicycle chain left out in the rain. See what I mean?

Anyway, I need to write so that I can keep appreciating my job. When I answer the phone sometimes I'm tempted to say, "Safety and Security, this is Genevieve and I should be writing, but I need the money." But! Now that I'm writing early in the morning I come to work feeling calm because the writing is getting done. I'm not just that chick who answers the phone. I'm that chick who writes in the morning and THEN comes in to answer the phone. And directs people to the morgue.

And listen guys. Yes, I am addressing you directly. I am doing the LAST changes to my book before I ship it off to my agent for the LAST time. I'm counting on you guys to badger me about this. The next time I say, "Yeah, I heard back from my agent and she said it's great but that she thinks I should change everyone's last name and make the character's T-shirt green on page 107," please, please, pleasey-please tell me to write her back and say, "Nope. It's done." Because it is. I can't write this thing anymore. Time for a new book, a new anything. I have edited to the extreme. My fingers have fallen off. I am typing this with my front teeth.

I would also like to add that I really do like it at Ochsner. I would like to keep working here for a really long time. It's just that (sniff!) nothing compares to writing. This is around the time Sinead O'Connor should pop into your head because of that song, you know that song that she did, "Nothing Compares 2 U" and I'm pretty sure she did other songs and they were probably pretty good but that's the only one I know, which is sad because she had a beautiful voice and should probably be recognized for more and - DEAR GOD! I'm rambling!

See! I'm totally out of writing practice. Run on sentences everywhere! No point to this blog entry! No common theme to string it all together! Just nonsense about my agent's expectations and early 90's music. Don't worry, dear people. I'll work on this. The girl between the morgue and the hazardous materials dump is closer to the laundry than you think - THAT DOESN'T EVEN MAKE SENSE!

Let's start over. Hi. I am your Payphone Vigilante for the afternoon. Can I interest you in an analogy or a witty sentence fragment? Splendid! Tune in next time after Genevieve's had a few days of writing vignettes to herself.