It's pouring again, work wise.

I am swamped with freelance assignments, my article in the major magazine is finally coming out next week (big yay!). Natch, I will reveal the name of the magazine once it hits the stands; then and only then will I believe it, as stories get killed at the 11th hour all the time. And I may have yet another interview in Miami for a big, serious, full-time job—in my field nonetheless.

Maybe I'll get the hell out of here after all with only a few minor scars.

And so it follows that if it's pouring in my professional life, it shall remain dry in my personal one. And that is fine. I will go to Sarasota by myself, as soon as I figure out whether I have to go back down to Miami for this interview. I will stay at the lovely Ritz-Carlton, visit old haunts, revel in old memories and spend some quality alone time.

I will say this though: I am sick to death of driving. If I do get a swanky full-time job, my first indulgence will be a car with comfortable seats.

Juli B monthly picks.