Sometimes, though, I’m just not sure how to interpret what I’m hearing.

As of August 31, my job no longer exists, so there’s that. The official line is that I’m being laid off, which is good for my resume; the truth behind the official line is rather unimportant to me. So I get to get my resume back in working order, and start that process that I love so – the job hunt. Argh.

Much easier when it’s a laid-back, replacement sorta search.

On the one hand, I’ve been trying to get away from this job for a long time — over a year, maybe longer. On the other, I’m now one more reason short on why it is that I stay in this town, and one less exterior definition of self. It’s a tough juggle in my head.

Plus, I hate hunting for work.

And for the first year in three, my short script isn’t a finalist for the Sidewalk competition.

But on the bright side, I’ve got the cover story this week in the Birmingham Weekly, my piece on local film / Hide and Creep. So that’s coolish.

To the resumemobile, Batfucker.