Trying to stop hibernating.
I hibernate.
People who know me peripherally usually think that I'm an outgoing person. This isn't true. It couldn't be further from the truth. Most of the time, I'm a solitary sort of person. By choice. I like to come home and veg. I read. I write. I do my little drawings. And then I go to sleep. Even when I go out, I usually don't invite any friends with me. I'd rather just go out, hang out quietly until I get bored and leave when I want to. I tend to prefer it like that. I don't post on LJ. (Although I often read what everyone else is writing.) I don't call or email my friends. Usually. After being loud and crazy all day for the kiddies, I just wanna be alone and quiet.
This pisses many of my friends. They get frusterated up to a point. And then they stop caring if I keep in contact or not. And then they stop noticing if I keep in contact or not. Virginia Wolfe once said: "I have lost friends, some by death... others through sheer inability to cross the street."
This post is my attempt to cross the street.
The Good Stuff
I fell in a hole 5 or 6 years ago. It was deep and it was dark and very little light found its way to the bottom. I've spent the last year trying to climb out of the hole. Now, for the last several months I'm out. I'm not going to fall back in. But, looking around, I see how terribly overgrown the yard has become. And now I'm spending my time cleaning up the messes I've let gather. I'm very proud of the work I've done (and continue to do). But dear goddess, there's so much more to be done.
I left COSI months ago. And now I want back in. I had an interview for a great position there two weeks ago. I would be one of COSI's outreach demonstrators. I'd travel Ohio and surrounding states and present large-ish scale shows. The interview went very well. I know COSI policy forward and backward. I believe in it with all my heart. And I felt that I presented myself very well. The interviewer said it'd take about two weeks to respond. And now I'm waiting. And hoping. And lighting candles. And generally wallowing in anxiety. I WANT the job. (all caps for a REASON) And will probably explode if I don't get it.
The Bad Stuff
Money.
It's tighter than tight. I'm not complaining. Or feeling horrible about it. But there it is. My cell phone's off. (And, truthfully, I'll probably keep it off. It's a luxury, not a necessity. If you need to reach me soon, please call our house phone. If you don't have this number, email me. I'll give it it you.) With tax refund coming in soon, things should loosen up. And if I get the job. . . . . things will be stable again. (Just think! Being able to buy a latte without worrying about how to eat!)
I have to shrug my shoulders about the money situation, though. It was my mistakes that got me here. I don't have a lot of pity for myself. I was dumb. Nothing to do but pull myself out.
The Weird Stuff
Kids are so strange. I have about a million kid stories. Hundreds of funny things happen every day. But they're all the sorts of stories that are so much funnier in person. Next time I see you, ask me for a few. Here are some story titles:
"Shhh. We're mice."
"I love Stephanie."
"She looks just like my mom."
"But. . . Mr. Mat . . . The witches are taking the children to the dungeon."
"Nobody puts baby in a corner."
"Don't worry, I didn't pee myself. I just sat in orange juice."
"Ham is pigs? HAM IS PIGS?!!?"
"My dad said that if Macain wins, he's gonna puke. All over the place. Up and down the street. Alot. Everywhere. Just vomit!"
"Can't you see that I'm RESTING!"
And, thus, I have crossed the street.
Quill.
People who know me peripherally usually think that I'm an outgoing person. This isn't true. It couldn't be further from the truth. Most of the time, I'm a solitary sort of person. By choice. I like to come home and veg. I read. I write. I do my little drawings. And then I go to sleep. Even when I go out, I usually don't invite any friends with me. I'd rather just go out, hang out quietly until I get bored and leave when I want to. I tend to prefer it like that. I don't post on LJ. (Although I often read what everyone else is writing.) I don't call or email my friends. Usually. After being loud and crazy all day for the kiddies, I just wanna be alone and quiet.
This pisses many of my friends. They get frusterated up to a point. And then they stop caring if I keep in contact or not. And then they stop noticing if I keep in contact or not. Virginia Wolfe once said: "I have lost friends, some by death... others through sheer inability to cross the street."
This post is my attempt to cross the street.
The Good Stuff
I fell in a hole 5 or 6 years ago. It was deep and it was dark and very little light found its way to the bottom. I've spent the last year trying to climb out of the hole. Now, for the last several months I'm out. I'm not going to fall back in. But, looking around, I see how terribly overgrown the yard has become. And now I'm spending my time cleaning up the messes I've let gather. I'm very proud of the work I've done (and continue to do). But dear goddess, there's so much more to be done.
I left COSI months ago. And now I want back in. I had an interview for a great position there two weeks ago. I would be one of COSI's outreach demonstrators. I'd travel Ohio and surrounding states and present large-ish scale shows. The interview went very well. I know COSI policy forward and backward. I believe in it with all my heart. And I felt that I presented myself very well. The interviewer said it'd take about two weeks to respond. And now I'm waiting. And hoping. And lighting candles. And generally wallowing in anxiety. I WANT the job. (all caps for a REASON) And will probably explode if I don't get it.
The Bad Stuff
Money.
It's tighter than tight. I'm not complaining. Or feeling horrible about it. But there it is. My cell phone's off. (And, truthfully, I'll probably keep it off. It's a luxury, not a necessity. If you need to reach me soon, please call our house phone. If you don't have this number, email me. I'll give it it you.) With tax refund coming in soon, things should loosen up. And if I get the job. . . . . things will be stable again. (Just think! Being able to buy a latte without worrying about how to eat!)
I have to shrug my shoulders about the money situation, though. It was my mistakes that got me here. I don't have a lot of pity for myself. I was dumb. Nothing to do but pull myself out.
The Weird Stuff
Kids are so strange. I have about a million kid stories. Hundreds of funny things happen every day. But they're all the sorts of stories that are so much funnier in person. Next time I see you, ask me for a few. Here are some story titles:
"Shhh. We're mice."
"I love Stephanie."
"She looks just like my mom."
"But. . . Mr. Mat . . . The witches are taking the children to the dungeon."
"Nobody puts baby in a corner."
"Don't worry, I didn't pee myself. I just sat in orange juice."
"Ham is pigs? HAM IS PIGS?!!?"
"My dad said that if Macain wins, he's gonna puke. All over the place. Up and down the street. Alot. Everywhere. Just vomit!"
"Can't you see that I'm RESTING!"
And, thus, I have crossed the street.
Quill.