Well, I have a job.
I got a job at the I-wore-two-earrings-to-the-interview place, and who knew they'd hire someone who did such a thing? The HR woman there is really nice, so I told her about the earrings. "See?" she said. "That's why we need a good proofreader here. No one noticed that detail."
The hours are slightly reDUNKulous: 8-8 Monday and Tuesday and 4-Midnight Thursday and Friday. I don't mind working at night, as I am kind of what you'd call a night person. I am a lady of the night. ...Wait.
Anyway, the only downside of that is no more Friday nights with Ned, but we have big plans to throw down on Wednesdays, when I will have had the day off and don't have to work till 4:00 the next day.
W-E-D-N-E-S-D-A-Y night!
Doesn't have the same cache. By the way, I made sure to pick the most ludicrous version of that song that I could find. Why do people put things on You Tube that are just a picture of the band and then the song? There's this thing called iTunes, putting-up-just-a-photo-on-You-Tube people.
The dramaaaaaa I mentioned yesterday was another company wanted me, but this place was the better choice. Despite the redunkulous hours. (I have a person coming from a dog-walking company this weekend, so someone can take out Yellow and Yellower while I am gone all day Mondays and Tuesdays.) And when did I get so in demand?
So there's my story. I start Monday, hence the part where I am getting a dog walker in on Monday.
Oh, and you know what? It's casual dress! Remember the LAST place I worked, and they actually had dressy requirements, which is the first time I've had that since about 1992? So I went out and got 94 pair of black pants and 20 businessy hi-I'm-a-copy-editor cardigans, and they will continue to linger in my closet.
I heard that. Anyway, it'll be nice to have money again. And no, I am not hiring a cleaning lady. You know, right off the bat. Wouldn't that be nice, though?My first priority is to pay off my medical bills from this spring's womyn fest operation. Remember when your health insurance actually paid for stuff?
This whole job action will, however, cut into my doing-nothing time, which has been in abundance since I got laid off February 1. Faithful Reader Carol in Bama--and I do not know where Bama is, either. Perhaps it's a tropical island somewhere--sent me a ton of books recently, and I have already read The Guernsey Potato Peel whatever book and also Major Pettigrew's Last Stand. I started The Language of Flowers yesterday and am a third of the way through. This pesky employment will interfere with my lounging about and reading time.
Books with long titles annoy me. I used to work at a museum, and we notoriously had 97-word exhibits. I think it was supposed to seem smart. Women in Art: A Pathologically Retrospective Look at Chicks, Babes, Skirts, The Ol' Ball and Chain and So On and Her Contributions to a Hegemonic Society. An Exhibit in Two Parts So We Can Make This Title Longer and Irk June to Bits.
Also, what's Edsel gonna do? Do you understand how this dog is glued to me at every moment? Perhaps I'd better tell them I have an emotionally needy dog and he needs to come to work with me. He'll be no trouble at all.
The other day I managed to capture on film for you his dreamy look that he gets when you scritch him under the collar. Poor Edsel. Being mom-free four days a week. He'll be mortified.
The place is local, but about 15 minutes away. I like how all of a sudden that is SO FAR AWAY, a FIFTEEN-MINUTE COMMUTE! Who forgets about LA so fast? So fast. I would have fried up my own kidneys for a 15-minute commute. A THIRTY-minute commute, even.
So there it is. Oh, and my friend Charlie continues to improve bit by bit--no word on whether he'll recover fully yet.
