It is glorious. My editor, from his apartment across town, checks in to assign stories and give feedback via Instant Messenger, an America Online-generated concoction that lets you talk in real time with folks as if you're in a chat room. What's cool is the knowledge that if I really want to ignore him, I can. Hell, I can trot off to the zoo and tell him later that I didn't respond because I had some sort of seizure and passed out on the floor. He'd have to take me at my word because he's not here.
Nobody's here .
What is not neat is when Habbib poops in the bathtub, which I think might be a sign that I am invading his space being home all day. Jeez, I thought they really liked me and wanted me there. I have to put them off because the actual work is more hectic and deadline-oriented than what I was doing before. I am down for three to five stories a day. I don't think so.