FUBAR-BAR
Y'know, I was having a really good day. Like awesome. The scifi exhibit banners went on the building (pictures forthcoming) and they look gorgeous. My friend did the job interview and it went great. Scott's in a good mood tonight.
I was HAPPY, godsdammit.
So I did what I do when I feel happy and it makes me stupid. I called my Mom. In fairness she was bearable for most of the conversation. But then she does what she always does, she mentions her friend Mrs. Satan (not her real name). Apparently she's been "worrying" about what I'll do about finding my "next job" because a library couldn't possibly hire me because of the way I dress etc. I sweetly said if they worry so much they should feel free to call my boss, and I'm sure he could tell them what to do. And then I hung up and had a cry in the shower, and now I feel all gross.
Now why is it that I'm twenty-eight, professionally successful, mostly together emotionally most of the time, and I have to go through all that, and I HAD to have known vaguely that's the way it was going to go down, because it always seems to? WTF, self?
I was HAPPY, godsdammit.
So I did what I do when I feel happy and it makes me stupid. I called my Mom. In fairness she was bearable for most of the conversation. But then she does what she always does, she mentions her friend Mrs. Satan (not her real name). Apparently she's been "worrying" about what I'll do about finding my "next job" because a library couldn't possibly hire me because of the way I dress etc. I sweetly said if they worry so much they should feel free to call my boss, and I'm sure he could tell them what to do. And then I hung up and had a cry in the shower, and now I feel all gross.
Now why is it that I'm twenty-eight, professionally successful, mostly together emotionally most of the time, and I have to go through all that, and I HAD to have known vaguely that's the way it was going to go down, because it always seems to? WTF, self?