(no subject)
I have a job interview in the morning. I don't remember the last time I actually interviewed for a job. Usually, I'm turning down offers. I'm still turning down offers, actually. No one's offering anything I want.
So I have a job interview tomorrow. I have a new suit. I have shoes and a bag and I got my hair dyed today for the first time in far too many weeks.
I have a job interview, and I swear the baby knows it, because every time I'm close to sleep she decides to start swimming around again and it's still a strange enough feeling that it startles me back awake. I've been trying to explain to her that women are expected to work outside the home, that some of us actually really enjoy working, and if she thinks her little sleep deprivation game is going to get her a stay-at-home-mom, she's got another thing coming. She's about six inches long right now. There's no way a woman of my height is taking orders from someone who's shorter than my coffee table. I just need to find a way to convince her of that. Preferably before she gets big enough to do any real damage to my rib cage.
I blame all of this on the fact that Hogan made real coffee the other day and the smell is absolutely heavenly, and still hovering in the apartment. The first thing I'm doing after this kid's born is throwing back a couple shots of espresso.
In the meantime, I'm going back to showing Blob who's boss.
All frustration and exhaustion aside, this is actually pretty damn cool.
So I have a job interview tomorrow. I have a new suit. I have shoes and a bag and I got my hair dyed today for the first time in far too many weeks.
I have a job interview, and I swear the baby knows it, because every time I'm close to sleep she decides to start swimming around again and it's still a strange enough feeling that it startles me back awake. I've been trying to explain to her that women are expected to work outside the home, that some of us actually really enjoy working, and if she thinks her little sleep deprivation game is going to get her a stay-at-home-mom, she's got another thing coming. She's about six inches long right now. There's no way a woman of my height is taking orders from someone who's shorter than my coffee table. I just need to find a way to convince her of that. Preferably before she gets big enough to do any real damage to my rib cage.
I blame all of this on the fact that Hogan made real coffee the other day and the smell is absolutely heavenly, and still hovering in the apartment. The first thing I'm doing after this kid's born is throwing back a couple shots of espresso.
In the meantime, I'm going back to showing Blob who's boss.
All frustration and exhaustion aside, this is actually pretty damn cool.