I finished that CatsCurious story I've been working on (fitfully) for months. It clocked in at just under 10k words, and I like it. The problem is, CatsCurious has a tiny mention (which I noticed belatedly) that they prefer well-known fairy tales--and mine isn't. I wanted to find something different, figuring they'd get a thousand retellings of Cinderella and Sleeping Beauty, so I dug a little and came up with a weird 17th century French tale and used it as the basis of my story. Oh well. I just hope the editor is not going to wait until the submission period is over before looking through the subbed stories. If they reject this one early, I still have time to retell Cinderella.
I was hoping I'd have started my new job today, but it turns out that not only do they not want me yet, there's no guarantee they'll want me at all. Dammit. That's why I spent all morning writing and all afternoon cleaning the house. Both things needed to be done, and both kept me from wigging out with anxiety all day. I am SO BROKE. I think it's time to start selling CDs and DVDs for gas money. Did I say dammit yet?