Can't read. Clowns'll eat me.
Still can't read. Approximately. . .18 hours left of that.
Tonight I was eating a pot pie (MMM) and Sophie, the gray cat, climbed up on my end of the couch and sniffed at my plate. Which means, fabulously, that I got to say, "no, kitty--that's MY pot pie!" for real. (If I could read, that quote would be linked to a YouTube video of Cartman's original. So you can look it up now and it'll be almost the same thing. I'll wait here.)
The job interview went well, in a demoralizing kind of way. Well in that the five (5!) people I met with, to a man (because they were all men) questioned my overqualification for the position. "You're poised and as smart as any of us here," one said. Well, probably, yeah. But would you hire me to do what you do? Or anything in this company above assistant level? No. So I guess I'm not really overqualified, then. It's like: sure, I could do your job, probably, with a little training, but I'm not qualified for it. I'm not qualified for anything but assistant work. Nothing like working for people who think you're slumming it.
And! AND! I heard today from my recruiter that they're "really excited" about me. Oh, really? Really? You could have spent less time questioning my judgement, then. Anyway, the job doesn't pay enough.
My back still hurts. Me: 0. This week: 1.
Has anyone watched ER recently? I just caught 10 or so minutes of it, just to see, and MAN. It is SO TERRIBLE. First of all, Frank is like, all talky talking all the time! Frank is supposed to hand out a one-liner every other episode! And. . .there were some horrible Accents of Indeterminate Anglo Origin and someone in a rugby shirt talking about the tradition of competitive cheese rolling. Which, if it actually exists, involves a group of people rolling down a hill after a wheel of cheese, with the first person to the bottom winning.
Rolling cheese down a hill. In Chicago. All those hills they have there. And all the New Zealand Scots with Liverpudlian football wives who enjoy it.
I sort of hate Ellen Degeneres now. I'm not sure how or why it happened. Actually, I think it was like the hate switch that got flipped to On for Jerry Seinfeld. It was like. . .I went 10, 15 years vaguely aware of them, enjoying their comedic profferings at my leisure. Then they are suddenly both unavoidable for out of control movie promotion or dog. . .adoption revocation promotion. And when they're not focused on being enjoyable, they are both really really grating.
Tonight I was eating a pot pie (MMM) and Sophie, the gray cat, climbed up on my end of the couch and sniffed at my plate. Which means, fabulously, that I got to say, "no, kitty--that's MY pot pie!" for real. (If I could read, that quote would be linked to a YouTube video of Cartman's original. So you can look it up now and it'll be almost the same thing. I'll wait here.)
The job interview went well, in a demoralizing kind of way. Well in that the five (5!) people I met with, to a man (because they were all men) questioned my overqualification for the position. "You're poised and as smart as any of us here," one said. Well, probably, yeah. But would you hire me to do what you do? Or anything in this company above assistant level? No. So I guess I'm not really overqualified, then. It's like: sure, I could do your job, probably, with a little training, but I'm not qualified for it. I'm not qualified for anything but assistant work. Nothing like working for people who think you're slumming it.
And! AND! I heard today from my recruiter that they're "really excited" about me. Oh, really? Really? You could have spent less time questioning my judgement, then. Anyway, the job doesn't pay enough.
My back still hurts. Me: 0. This week: 1.
Has anyone watched ER recently? I just caught 10 or so minutes of it, just to see, and MAN. It is SO TERRIBLE. First of all, Frank is like, all talky talking all the time! Frank is supposed to hand out a one-liner every other episode! And. . .there were some horrible Accents of Indeterminate Anglo Origin and someone in a rugby shirt talking about the tradition of competitive cheese rolling. Which, if it actually exists, involves a group of people rolling down a hill after a wheel of cheese, with the first person to the bottom winning.
Rolling cheese down a hill. In Chicago. All those hills they have there. And all the New Zealand Scots with Liverpudlian football wives who enjoy it.
I sort of hate Ellen Degeneres now. I'm not sure how or why it happened. Actually, I think it was like the hate switch that got flipped to On for Jerry Seinfeld. It was like. . .I went 10, 15 years vaguely aware of them, enjoying their comedic profferings at my leisure. Then they are suddenly both unavoidable for out of control movie promotion or dog. . .adoption revocation promotion. And when they're not focused on being enjoyable, they are both really really grating.