Work it, girl.

In the past few weeks, I have:

* Been assigned to two additional accounts at work

* Accepted two freelance assignments

* Gotten one unsolicited offer of freelance work

Spring is busting out all over, folks. I’m also considering forming a local group for midcareer creative folks (if I can’t find a solidly established one to join).

All this makes me sound like a bit of an instigator — a go-getter, a type-A, highly driven, Sheryl Sandberg wannabe. Doesn’t it?

If anything, I should probably do more. Learn more about the curatorial arts, refine my editing skills, look up more history on the companies we work with (and the ones we hope to work with). Perhaps abstain from writing blog entries on my lunch break.

I guess that’s part of the contradiction that is me: ambitious enough to hustle — for a while. Then I dream dreamy thoughts of a squishy sofa, flannel pants, pints of ice cream and Netflix. (I tried “Scandal” and was bored, despite my recent run of D.C.-based drama. “Shameless” is far more entertaining.)

Lean in, schmean in. I’ll never be anyone’s CEO (and thank your lucky stars for that), but my unconfirmed ADHD tendencies might just be what save me from a lifetime of drudgery and insufferability.

Now if only I could reclaim my sense of humor. Hello? Bueller?


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