No Rest for the Formerly Wicked

I'm starting to feel like Cinderella, particularly with regards the song those anthropomorphic mice sing in the Disney cartoon:

"Every time she gets a minute, that's the time when they begin it: 'Cinderelly!' 'Cinderelly!'

Honestly, I keep thinking that my work docket is finally about to clear up, but then another couple of projects come rolling down the pipe. I must remember that I actually chose copywriting as an infinitely preferable alternative to my previous occupations. After all, at one point or another, I have been (among other things):

> a radio newscaster, which was actually lots of fun, but paid peanuts (sometimes literally, when sponsors would give products to the station);

> a flight attendant, which was nowhere near as glamorous as I'd been led to believe, and had me spending days on end with attractive co-workers who unfortunately were the mental equivalent of peanuts;

> a bank manager, which I thought was going to turn me into a high-powered, suit-wearing, go-getting corporate type, but in reality involved hours of brain-and-butt-numbing boredom sitting in the bank and wishing someone would come and rob it just to break the monotony; and

> an administrative officer, which was actually kind of fun for a while because I liked my co-workers at the design firm I worked with, but I ended up helping out so much with the creative side that they finally just made me a copywriter.

Which is how I ended up doing what I do for a living. Mostly I'm glad to actually use my brain on a daily basis, but lately my brain has been wrung out and strung out from the unending inundation of projects. It kind of makes me miss the days when I was writing porn comics... a few "ooh oohs" and "aah aahs" written down, and I'd get paid $50 a page.

Clearly, virtue does not pay.