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If it isn't one thing, it's another.

Late to writing group today. Ahh, the majestic Procrastination! But I got a good start on the essay about my recent experiences, tying in the elements of professional dress code, interviewing, dress-up, and drag.

There was a ... thing. Evidently my conflict management skillz are based heavily upon my ability to shut all the stuff that's going on the hell down so I can process it and then unruffle individual sets of ruffled feathers.

Other than that, the play was just fine.

Delivered the imp of Dana O'Shea to M, who put some on and did the "Oo, smells tasty!" thing a lot. She suggested over dinner that since one of my major skills that I mentioned is one of Miles's, finding the right person to do the right job, perhaps I should apply at a temp agency, not necessarily for temp work myself, but as a person to match jobs to skills.

I am reminded once again that I really do need to open my mouth like a good girl when I'm Told to. This clergy business is not a comfortable one, but I knew that when I signed up. When saying something means momentary discomfort for me, and relief of a very real stressor in someone else's life, what is the appropriate choice? (Incidentally, the disclaimers on that sign-up were very well-done. I commend the author, and poke people who would buy the 3rd book in the Feline Wizards series to go ahead and tell her so.)
Gone away, gone ahead,
Echoes roll unanswered.
Empty, open, dusty, dead.
Why have all the Weyrfolk fled?

Where have dragons gone together
Leaving weyrs to wind and weather,
Setting herdbeasts free of tether;
Gone, our safeguards, gone, but whither?

Have they flown to some new weyr
Where cruel Threads some others fear?
Are they worlds away from here?
Why, oh why the empty weyr?

-- "The Question Song", Anne McCaffrey
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