The fly in the ointment

Not the one I killed, though - there's that to be thankful for, I guess.
It's a funny thing. You know how I'm slowly getting ready to be a successful freelance translator in Paris, seeing as I can't get a job as a staff translator anywhere else... I'm not exactly looking for assignments - because looking for a job is a full-time one, isn't it... - but when I'm phoned, I'll usually choose to accept my mission.
If we are to believe the weather forecasts, today was the one day of beautiful weather that we are going to get this week. And I don't care that that sentence shows appalling syntax. Nobody wants me as a translator, they're certainly not going to hire me as a copy-editor, are they? Well then.
So today being the beautiful, sunny, warm day that it was, I decided I was going to enjoy the city in the crisp (whatever) and not, oh no, sprawl on my couch and watch whatever crap the telly was showing while pondering the various vicissitudes of my life-changing decisions that have, so far, led to my simply trebling my consumption of chocolate, but not much else.
Now. What was I talking about. Oh yes. So I was getting ready to go out and enjoy life without a proper job like everybody else in the same situation does, when suddenly - ta da - the phone rang. A job.
The way I figure it is this. If I accept translations, I get to exercise my brain a little - and lord knows that's a luxury I certainly can't afford to forgo - while earning a little money, and I get to watch televised crap, since I'm working from home. Almost the best of both worlds, isn't it?
Now, of course, in this particular case, by the time I finish the job and hand it in, Noah will be coming back in a foul mood, hollering something like "Couldn't you learn when I showed you the first time, you bunch of lame-ass shipbuilders?!"
So yeah. I can't remember what my point was when I started this, but there you have it anyway.