Friday is my "last day" at work. That's in quotes because I spent a couple hours today, and will spend more hours tomorrow, writing the contract that will keep me employed at the same desk in the same office for the next three months. I've also had other projects on the go. I didn't really plan this out, but I seem to have become a contractor again. Thus this incorporation. I've got a stack of papers beside me as I try to figure out which financial institution will screw me the least for a current account (or whatever bizarre fluffy name their marketing weasels have come up with). I won't even get into how vile being charged to make a deposit to an account that makes little to no interest is. Nonetheless I have to get the account opened up this week.

Meanwhile I have a an opening coming up this Thursday. I'm looking forward to that. Some malnourished brain cells in the back corner of my mind are clawing their bony fingers up through the grille of the oubliette they've been relegated to, screaming that there are things I am forgetting, that I should have put in my to-do list and calendar, but it is too late. I'm determined to make the first night of Curiosity tomorrow. I have a pile of Red Chair pictures to get through. Pictures from a wedding to burn onto CD. Somewhere along side becoming a contractor again I also became a working artist.

Right now, this week, I've bit off a little more than I can chew. It'll get better next week when I start getting Mondays and Fridays away from the office to work on the other projects, the accounting, and the artwork, and everything else I need to do.