excess
So at about two o'clock on Friday I accepted a job--a great job, a dream job, a hooray-I-get-to-work-in-the-industry-I-want job--at Penn Press. After that I pretty much stopped answering my phone, because I was driving and socializing and eating cherries.
I had a voicemail message from Friday afternoon at two-thirty. From the director of human resources at Oxford University Press, wanting to talk to me about a job.
(Caveat: I would much rather work at Penn than at Oxford. For now, anyway--Penn is books and Oxford would be journals. Plus, I'm getting enough grief about moving to Philadelphia, so moving to New York wouldn't be any better.)
I had a voicemail message from Friday afternoon at two-thirty. From the director of human resources at Oxford University Press, wanting to talk to me about a job.
(Caveat: I would much rather work at Penn than at Oxford. For now, anyway--Penn is books and Oxford would be journals. Plus, I'm getting enough grief about moving to Philadelphia, so moving to New York wouldn't be any better.)