"Big Pimpin'"

In mafia terminology, I might be called an "earner."

Sure, I'm not exactly brining home fat stacks of hundred-dollar-bills every day (or wearing an ill-fitting tracksuit) but with all the separate 'jobs' I've got going on these days, coming up with an accurate description of my current line of work is getting tougher by the day—much like an actual mobster. ("I'm in, uh, construction.")

My gig as a stay-at-home dad was rudely interrupted when we moved back to civilization in August. I only get one day a week with Connor all to myself, and the rest of the time I'm either working on one of several different freelance jobs, pimping myself out as a copy editor, periodically working a day at my old job in a warehouse, or doing odd jobs for additional cash. I've got checks coming in from more places than Bank of America.

Perhaps this flurry of activity explains my absence from this space of late. Perhaps my lack of posts can be better explained by a particularly frustrating recent freelance job—in which I was required to write a 1200-word article based larely on an interview with a source at the IRS who gave quotes that would have been more useful if they were in Mandarian.

In any case, don't worry... it's not you, it's me—I don't like you.