Sarah McLachlan has a voice of heartbreaking clarity and beauty. Yet her lyrics are only mediocre, and sometimes she brings the most moving interpretations to truly banal sentiments. On the whole, I like her albums. I am listening to one now. After it's done, I will listen to the jangled, divinely strange Bjork. Yes, I'm addicted to female pop vocalists, all kinds, all ranges. Men's voices rarely catch my interest in the same way. I don't recall ever dashing to a record store to buy a CD featuring male vocals the way I hit the road for Enya, the cranberries, Veruca Salt, or Robyn. Tenors, especially, bore me.
Apropos of nothing, it seems to be Thursday already. Time does go fast at the agency, I'll give it that. Possibly I haven't mentioned any good things about my job, now that I think about it. Let me iterate them now. I like everyone I work with. They laugh at my sense of humor, they're not conventional at all, and they think our clients are nutcases just like I do. The bosses are fun, interesting people who work tremendously hard along with us, yet have time to enjoy their lives. Everyone's traveled extensively which means we can cope with any travel request, no matter how obscure or difficult. The location is beautiful, up in the hills behind Stanford, and nearly rural; the drive to work is gorgeous every day, no matter the weather. My paycheck, despite the lack of holiday pay, is substantial enough to make me feel properly recompensed for my labor. And I don't have to dress up very much, which might not impress you but it's heavenly for me. I'm not fond of formality.
So things are okay there a large part of the time. I made a mistake, that's all, in thinking I could keep doing this kind of high-volume corporate travel. I'm also realizing I'm ready to move on from travel in general, and I thank all of the kind people who responded to my plea for direction. Every single person suggested my web design skills are a clear indication I ought to think about design jobs. I agree, and I've contacted some local colleges about class schedules as well as thumbing through the books in the computer section of several bookstores. I taught myself Photoshop (though I don't think yesterday's head job was much of a recommendation!) so I am sure I can teach myself Illustrator and Freehand, etc. Anyway, don't imagine me slaving away in a darkened cubicle while my employers fling arcane rules at me and cackle evilly. My cubicle is brightly lit.
Ha ha. The leetle joke. But really, it's okay. There is light at the end of this particular tunnel. Until I get further towards it, there's always Sarah McLachlan to sing me to sleep at night.
