Odd - just...odd
Jul. 28th, 2003 12:13 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
kyburgI have emptied boxes. I have put back the drawers into the desk.
I have found and cleaned out my briefcase. The one that hasn't been opened since 1993.
Talk about a time capsule. Yes, I did leave a letter to my 10 years older self.
If I had known it at the time, however.
I was just patting myself on the back one more time on this wonderful house. The one I can't cross the room by the count of three - the one with the bright, airy kitchen. The one with gardens. A laundry room. Windows with blinds.
Ten years ago, I was working for Southland, the 7-11 people. Just a little bit more or less. Quantum Leap had just been canceled and I was preparing to do the first convention in Pasadena. I think the VQT awards banquet was coming up just about now, and it would be the last time I would see many of the people who had given their all in a fight to keep the show on the air the previous May.
I found my copies of all the documents. I also found credit reports, bank statements, all the timecards I needed as I was temping then - thank you cards I kept to send to prospective employers the moment I stepped out of the interviews - address labels...copies of the research I did on the USO for a fan fic I started...copies of the work in progress...copies of the press releases I wrote.
Holy shit. I was witty, I was clever...I was good. And this is while Cliff was still alive. I wrote damn good copy. Holy cow.
Prodigy bills. Coated-paper faxes.
I think I'll go through them one more time.
They weren't good days. But I was better than I remembered. LOTS better.
I hardly recognize myself.
I have found and cleaned out my briefcase. The one that hasn't been opened since 1993.
Talk about a time capsule. Yes, I did leave a letter to my 10 years older self.
If I had known it at the time, however.
I was just patting myself on the back one more time on this wonderful house. The one I can't cross the room by the count of three - the one with the bright, airy kitchen. The one with gardens. A laundry room. Windows with blinds.
Ten years ago, I was working for Southland, the 7-11 people. Just a little bit more or less. Quantum Leap had just been canceled and I was preparing to do the first convention in Pasadena. I think the VQT awards banquet was coming up just about now, and it would be the last time I would see many of the people who had given their all in a fight to keep the show on the air the previous May.
I found my copies of all the documents. I also found credit reports, bank statements, all the timecards I needed as I was temping then - thank you cards I kept to send to prospective employers the moment I stepped out of the interviews - address labels...copies of the research I did on the USO for a fan fic I started...copies of the work in progress...copies of the press releases I wrote.
Holy shit. I was witty, I was clever...I was good. And this is while Cliff was still alive. I wrote damn good copy. Holy cow.
Prodigy bills. Coated-paper faxes.
I think I'll go through them one more time.
They weren't good days. But I was better than I remembered. LOTS better.
I hardly recognize myself.
