Going to WORK!

Here I am, drying my hair in front of the fan, getting ready to go to my first shift at the convention center. 

Our shirts make us look like garbage collectors, I'm afraid, but actually it'll be my job to direct high school girl volleyball players to the Mississippi River and the Mall of America and suchlike. (And to the toilets, of course.)

It's a little weird to Go to Work: it's been two years since I last worked a full 8-hour shift, (at the nursing home, and that was only for 5 months), and before that...  a dozen years of freelance publishing work. 

I want to go to work--I want a shift that begins and ends; I want a regular paycheck. This job isn't the answer––they only need us intermittently, for big conventions––but it's a (I hope) gentle reentry. 

Btw, that's a photo of a U.S. soccer player on the wall behind me. Marz cut it out of the paper after the U.S. beat Ghana in the World Cup. 

OK, off I go!