We Now Return You To Civilization

On Thursday, exactly one month almost to the hour that I arrived at New House Mandalay, the movers showed up with our remaining possessions.  Considering that I know someone that recently moved to the Czech Republic from Boston who had all her stuff in two weeks, I’m not pleased.  The excuse–not having a small enough truck to get into the development.  The verdict–bullshit.  At least stuff is here, and in a few more days pictures should be hung and everything arranged accordingly.

And now I can work.

Since our arrival in Orlando, I’ve devoted most of my “work time” to helping with Mr. Mandalay’s job search.  He’s starting to get interviews, but a lot of the jobs here are (unsurprisingly) in the hospitality industry, in which he’s not particularly interested.  However, he’s got enough non-hotel/theme park companies nibbling at his resume so that chances are pretty good he won’t have to bow to Mickey Mouse or Harry Potter or Shamu as his employment overlord.  Best of all, he has figured out how to upload his resume to various job sites.  This is indeed an accomplishment for my beloved technophobe.

I’ve dashed off a few things for Textbroker, a “content mill” that I find to be mostly fun little tasks that don’t require a lot of effort.   I registered with Upwork, another freelancing site, a while ago but I’ve refreshed it and got a small service job that will take maybe a half-hour of my time on Monday.  I’ve got a romance novel to promote since I want to have the sequel out by September.  There are a lot of different opportunities, and since I have a financial cushion I can pick and choose what I want to do and when I want to do it.

Where I do it, in my new office, is very nicely set up.  We inherited an antique secretary desk from my late father-in-law with lots of cubbyholes and drawers, and we scored a sleek high-backed desk chair from Ikea.  We also put in one of our Ethan Allen recliners since both wouldn’t fit in the living room, as well as a table we’ve had since the early days in Kentucky that holds the copier.  It’s a cozy and comfortable work space.

And the commute time–about five seconds from my bedroom–can’t be beat.