This work is kicking my ass -- not so much the work, really, but the juggling of my schedule. I'm working overnights at least once every other week now, often more, so I'm having to push my sleep schedule all around the clock. Wake up at *this* time, no matter how tired I am, so I can be tired enough to sleep that night. Go to bed late, no matter how tired I am, because I need to set my circadian rhythm back so I can function during the night shift. It's really wearying, and what I really need -- a couple days off in a row to rest -- isn't materializing for another, what, eleven days? At least most of my days in this upcoming 11-day stretch of constant work are eight hours, even if they're not exactly scheduled in a less-than-painful way. It's killing my mood and my feelings. I cannot wait till I've completed this move... I only pray I can find a job that allows me to get by without this extra-overtime baloney.

In rereading Rhapsody, I wonder how on earth such an excruciatingly flawed novel not only got published, but recieved critical accolade. It repeatedly fails on suspension of disbelief and plausibility, it's technically mediocre, and the main character should have been named Mary Sue. But I guess that gives me hope that someday I too will be published. I know I'm better, after all. I need to sit down and agent-search more, too... it's a much more difficult feat than I'd anticipated. Ugh, when do I next have the time, though? Stupid work. Oh, I know what I need to do to make it happen -- print out a bunch of Chapter Ones.