Current mood:

hopeful

I just (kind of) applied for the first job i have applied for since my mom died.

I refuse to get my hopes up, becauseven though getting the job would mean I could move to the bay, like, tomorrow, and it is quite possibly the most perfect job that has ever been posted on craigslist, as those jobs pertain to me.

here is the posting:

This job involves following up and meeting with the client homeowners, collecting and summarizing home data (the homeowners do most of this work by completing an in-depth questionnaire), taking photographs, and then writing Masterpiece Reports typically averaging 15 to 25 pages in length, including the photographs. Depending on the size of the home, the Reports range from 2,000 to 3,000 words of narrative. You will use a sample Masterpiece Report template provided by GFC as a style/format guide. You do NOT need to be a professional photographer or have a real estate license. Depending on your skill level and writing experience, actual report writing time can take three to eight hours. For each Report that you complete and deliver to the homeowner, GFC pays you $700, or more, depending on the price of the home. Your relationship with GFC will be that of an authorized independent contractor.
.



I know what kayce would say about this: apply for a real job.

and i say: fuck you, i am going to look for work that doesn't make me want to shave my wrists, and that i could actually possibly subsist on.


there is no fucking way i am going to get this job, of course, but writing the introductory letter and resume were good for killing time until now, an hour before my dad goes to work and i can write.


now i need to go shit in our newly fixed toilet, so off i fuck.