It LOOKS like I'm being a focused, hardworking grownup -

       - but secretly I get to be wayward and inquisitive.  All the time.  And I'm getting paid to do it!  (This post is cannibalized from my other blog because I'm feeling lazy.  Sorry.)

       Here's how I lucked out, and what I've been up to since last I wrote:

• Found seasonal retail work (which was surprisingly far less painful than anticipated, as my coworkers were kind and hilarious and the company was refreshingly people-centric)
• Found, leased, and moved into an apartment (much to the relief of my saintly, generous cousins)
• That quirky web design company offered me full-time work (I still can't believe I get to write for a living, and it's an actual living that lets me pay rent and buy groceries, and being a professional writer gives me license to learn about huge wide ranges of interesting things)
• My car decided it was time to go to the Great Big Parking Lot in the Sky (with impeccable timing, actually, right after the seasonal job ended and my glorious work-from-home writing job started)
• Explored Denver's public transportation system (and found it perfectly acceptable, if a bit more thin on the ground than Chicago's)
• Purchased a bike with which to get around (and maybe get some exercise, even if it is only accidentally)

       It's been an adventure.  But life is settling down and finding a routine, which is also nice.
       Something I've noticed lately is how difficult it is to work up the motivation to write for myself after spending almost eight hours a day writing professionally.  Part of me feels like it should be a relief - that I should be elated at being freed and allowed to write about whatever I want.  But the more logical and less naive part of me is just profoundly worn out.  I'm creatively sucked dry at the end of the day.
       That sounds terribly negative.  It's not that the job is draining my soul away - quite the opposite.  I love getting to learn what would otherwise be useless facts (for example, I can currently tell you more about tractors than you would ever want to know).  But at the end of the day, I just want to spend my time being mindless for a while, not composing the next runaway bestseller.  I've even neglected my blogs.
       Possibly I deserve to be ostracized by the League of Creative Writers for such laziness.

        So what have I been doing with my mindless downtime?  I've been exploring the neighborhood.
        There's a coffeeshop a quick bike ride from my apartment.  It's no Brewed Awakenings (only the greatest coffeeshop on the face of the whole damned planet, where I spent most of my collegiate years), but it's quite nice.  It emphasizes, like most Denver food emporiums, organic and natural ingredients.  When you order a strawberry-banana smoothie, they stick a banana, a few berries, a splash of apple juice, and some ice cubes in a blender, which is great.
        Across the street is a little organic cupcake bakery I tried.  The guy who rang me up recommended the salted caramel cupcake.  Simple chocolate cupcake, mounds of caramel buttercream, and a dusting of sea salt to top it off.  Very rich, but very tasty.
       The Tattered Cover is this amazing independent bookstore.  It's huge.  A nice (albeit pretentiously indie) cafe, free wifi, mismatched chairs, tables, and couches, new and used books ... I spend a lot of time there, both working and relaxing.

       Anyway.  Off to work.