I order a vodka tonic, with my frequent flier drink coupon and settle back to look out the window at the clouds at 33,000 feet. I feel overwhelmingly sad today -- the realities of managing the pressing demands of financial catch-up, not to be confused with ketchup, stringing along one freelance gig after another just to make the house payment, while I work feverishly on the book outline and pray to the publishing gods for an A-D-V-A-N-C-E, I get caught short on … [Read more...]