More information without pesky details
Thanks for sharing my excitement! I posted earlier and then floated away on a cloud of warm fuzzy happiness, murmuring “I will not have to sell my house, I will not die unemployed!” Or maybe I just went out to lunch with some friends because I realized that 1) I hadn’t eaten in about 20 hours and 2) Hey! I can eat out! Like a person with money!
Anyway, I would love to tell you all every single detail of my new employment, except that if I did that, then I’d have to kill you all and bury the evidence, and what with taking on a new career and all, I figure I might not have time for that. Instead I will tell you virtually nothing, but feel free to squeal and whatnot, anyway.
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Who wants a brownie??
Two and a half hours.
Three meetings.
One hypothetical marketing strategy involving a voice-recognition alarm clock for quadriplegics (yes, really… I couldn’t have made that up if I tried).
“Well, I think that’s about it. The good news is that my expectations for today were well met and I’m very pleased.”
“Oh. Um, great! What’s the bad news?”
“Bad news?”
“You said that’s the good news. What’s the bad news?”
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Can’t fight this feeeeeeeeeling anymoooooore
Thanks to my pal and comrade-in-insanity, Joshilyn, I finally have a concise explanation for that feeling I sometimes get. You know the one… where everything is just a tad off, you’re a little bit edgy, and–perhaps most importantly–you feel compelled to do stupid things.
Why yes, that is pretty much how I feel all the time, but I mean the feeling of those sorts of things being exacerbated, somehow. The feeling of wanting and needing something that is just out of reach.
That feeling, my friends, (and thanks to Joss for pointing it out) is the feeling of my Mental Illness Number soaring skyward. I’d advise you all to stand clear, but I’m afraid it won’t be headed back this way for quite some time.
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It’s all about balance
I was supposed to go to the gym and work out this morning with a friend. I do not belong to the gym; she thought she had a free pass, but then couldn’t find it. She called me back later to say she found it but it had already expired.
I was sort of bummed, but then I remembered that I’m a lazy slug and didn’t want to work out, anyway.
Still, I’m as interested in fitness as the next health-conscious person. I have an elliptical trainer here at home, which I gave some thought to using. You know, since I was already in the workout mood. But then I realized that rather than working out, I could sit here on my ass and buy sneakers online, which is practically like actual exercise. Thank goodness.
Then I worried that perhaps I was oversimplifying matters a bit, when I received this excellent pearl of wisdom in my email:
Have the managers already loved shouting?
Don’t go around saying the world owes you a living; the world owes you nothing; it was here first.
Dude. That’s deep. I may need to buy another pair of shoes.
Out of the will
Him: I’m pressing the stop button. Know why? So Mama will stop talking.
Me: EXCUSE ME??
Him: What? You’re annoying.
Insanity, thy name is blizzard
I am moving to Hawaii. Immediately. Provided that I can get my car out, which may or may not be possible. I seem to have an itty bitty snowdrift blocking my garage. It’s about three feet high, and I am typing this from the warmest corner of the house, where I am curled into a small ball and rocking back and forth, humming “You Are My Sunshine.” In a minute I plan to hurl myself out the window–bathrobe and all–to try to get the attention of the plow guy who is neither answering his phone nor stopping at my house.
And then, I’m moving to Hawaii.
Chickadee became concerned, this morning, that we needed to “check on Daddy” and make sure he was okay. So she called him on the phone, and was chatting away, when I overheard this little gem:
“Daddy, that was SILLY! Mama TOLD you not to do that. See? Sometimes your old wife KNOWS THINGS.”
Yes indeed. Now, in addition to feeling trapped and cold, I also feel exceedingly old and wise. Need guidance? Consult the Old Wife. She’s behind the snowbank.
Epiphany, meet inspiration
I’ve been mulling over that last post, and I think I figured it out. Now I’m ready to reap the multi-million-dollar harvest of my brilliance.
See, it turns out that all this time, I’d been wearing this dabbed behind my ears. It works great, by the way.
But mix that with just a glimmer of hope and a hint of joy, and the result is more like this. And that, my friends, drives men wild.
And it can be yours for the low, low price of just $19.95, plus shipping and handling!
I know, I know. You’re thinking, “But Mir? Does it really work?” Well, you be the judge. I’m wearing it right now! And tell the truth: you want me more than ever. It’s okay. It’s not me, it’s my new miracle product. Trust me.
I’ll be accepting cash, checks, major credit cards, and lightning bolts.
And speaking of scent…
Could someone please explain to me what it is about a woman being happy and not at all looking that suddenly makes her irresistible to men? Is the adage about always wanting what you can’t have really true?
Once upon a time, I was sorta kinda fixed up with this guy at a time when I would’ve gladly gone out with any guy who asked me nicely. Only, he never asked me out. He sent me emails and beeped me on IM and then proceeded to wander off in the middle of our chats more than once. I tried to keep an open mind, but after a few weeks, I changed my settings so that he couldn’t see me on IM, and forgot about him.
Last night (after I’d gone to sleep) (why, yes, I did have sweet dreams, thank you) this guy wrote me a very earnest email about how he hasn’t seen me around and he wonders what I’m up to and please drop him a line and blah blah freaking blah.
All of which leads me to two inescapable conclusions:
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Role model, revisited
So, I’m still trying to decide if I have the moral fortitude, energy, and time to be a confirmation mentor. I’ve talked with the pastor, I’ve had a discussion with the young lady’s mom (who is herself a mentor), and collected the training materials for review.
I’ve decided to come at this decision with the seriousness and precision with which I attack all of life’s big decisions. That’s right; I’ve got a big cup of coffee, some chocolate, Alison Krauss blaring from the stereo, my wicked good slippers, and I’m ready to blog all of my revelations. What better way to make up my mind?
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I just hope I smell worthy
My second interview has been rescheduled for next Tuesday.
I’ve been given a list of the people with whom I’ll be meeting; the president amongst them. And the dog/pony from the first interview, with the clarifying note that “he needs another good sniff to judge [my] character.”
Whaddaya know… another excuse to eat bacon. I love this company.