Clandestine Blogging

I'm a receptionist today. "Thank you for calling {miscellaneous company}. Can I help you?"

I'm not really supposed to be online according to the temp agency, but the company doesn't care. They logged me into the computer and the director actually asked if I had a book. Plus, most everyone is at lunch, so no biggie, right?

I discovered this morning that I effectively have no work clothes. It's been 6 months since the words "business casual" held any meaning for me. All of my pants and skirts are too big, including my cute cuffed and flared black pants that used to make my butt look great. Now they just kind of hang on me, shapelessly. Sadness. So reason number 427 that I need money: New Clothes.

Bits & Pieces

• It looks like I have a temp job starting next Wednesday. I'm wary and of the "I'll believe it when I see it" temperament at this point, but it honestly sounds like I'm going to this one job unless they find something better for me. It's secretarial work and the pay is low, but it's work. And it will last through November. Hurrah!
  
  It's amazing how far down my acceptable pay threshhold has come. Granted, I could never pay off my debt if I were to make this amount forever, but that's why they call it a "temp" job. In the meantime, I have a networking appointment on Friday and 2 networking phone calls to make tomorrow.
  
  So I'm feeling some relief, but I'm also a little wary because I've had encouragement from other temp agencies that haven't come through. I'll feel more secure when I'm actually taking the Metro to the office.
  
  
• I really appreciate the support that various family members are giving me right now, in one way or another. It means a lot to me. I find it hard to accept help. I've always been fiercely independent. When I was very small apparently my favorite phrase was "Do it selse!" as in "I'll do it myself." My independence and my boundless energy that inspired my mom to nickname me Tigger and buy me a mini trampoline to bounce off all of my energy were apparently my defining characteristics. So when I can't do it myself I feel extremely frustrated and like I'm doing things completely wrong.
  
  
• I went swimming today, which always helps my mental state. Sometimes I worry myself with the dark places my head goes when I'm depressed. At least I still have the capacity to recognize it for what it is. Even amidst the darkness, there's still a voice in my head telling me it's just my crazy brain talking and things will get better and hey, why don't we go swimming tomorrow morning? So I dragged my butt out of bed at 6:30 and was at the pool by 7. I'm planning the same for tomorrow. At this point I'm not trying to set any speed records for myself, or even push for the same distance. I just want to get back in the routine and keep my crazy brain at bay.
  
  
• I have become a slave to my Cherry Coke Slurpee addiction. There's a 7-11 about 3 blocks from my apartment. I've always loved Slurpees, but haven't had one in awhile. I made the mistake last week of popping in and grabbing one. Yeah, I had one yesterday and another today. Sure, it's liquid sugar and chemicals, but it's such a tasty frozen treat, I can't resist.
  
  
• Obviously, the no-sugar plan is on hiatus. But, Slurpees notwithstanding, I hope to get better with my food and will be loading up on fruits, veggies, and chicken breasts at the store tomorrow. I still don't think I've gained any weight despite the Wendy's just down the street. I suppose there are positives to being completely stressed out.

Refueling

After finding out the crappity-crap-crap news on Thursday about the job, I had the luxury of escaping the endless job search and no friends yet/no money to do anything with potential friends monotony of a weekend in DC. Don't get me wrong. As I told a couple of people this weekend, if I could just find a job, DC would be perfect. I still really like DC and where I live in Northern Virginia. It's beautiful here and people are nice and will actually chat with you if you both happen to notice something humorous and the counter help at Starbuck's and Cosi say crazy things like "Have a nice day" and "Thank you." Imagine that, Boston! In addition, I've been told the winter does not, in fact, last 6 months. After 3 years in Chicago, followed by 3 years in Boston, that sounds great. But when one has been doing the job search thing for a month, only to have nothing happen, and when one is also signed up with 6 different temp agencies and still has no work, it gets a little wearing.

So I went back up to Massachusetts this weekend. For my Boston friends who are reading this and are incensed because they didn't see me and I didn't show up at church and they didn't even know I was coming, I have an excuse. I went with some people to the Cape. I lived in Boston for 3 years and never made it to the Cape, so I didn't want to pass up the opportunity (kind of like living in Arizona for 17 years and never going to the Grand Canyon*).

There were many reasons why it was nice to be there, but one of which was forgetting about not having a job for a few days. The weather was beautiful on Saturday and Sunday and have you seen the Cape? It's really pretty down there, in case you didn't know. We had a seafood feast on Saturday night that everyone cooked together. Of note was the expertly grilled haddock, swordfish, and Italian sausages (bought at Costco and needing to be cooked despite the seafood theme), and the scampied shrimp and scallops (I had no idea it was so easy).

Yesterday some of us went to the beach one last time and our hostess and I went swimming in the ocean. As I was sitting in my beach chair prior to going in, wrapped up in track pants and a hoody over my swimsuit, I was seriously rethinking the wisdom of going in the ocean. It was chilly! But I figured I could say I was in the JV version of the Polar Bear Club. After we got in the water, we got used to it and it wasn't too bad, although the amount of seaweed that collected in my suit (as I discovered when I took a shower later) completely grossed me out. The strange thing was, after we got out of the water, we weren't cold. The wind was blustery and the air temperature hadn't gone up, but we felt perfectly fine. It wasn't until I dried off some and put on my clothes that I got cold. Really cold. Weird.

Of course, now I'm back and reality is crashing in again. I find myself wondering, for a couple of different reasons, if I should have stayed in Boston, or if I should call up the contacts I have up there and see if they know of any jobs. But something will come through soon here. It has to.

*(stealing a technique from my good friend, Jordan Baker) I have excuses for this. 1) The Grand Canyon is a freakin' long way from Tucson. Those Western states are big. 2) My parents were never what you would call "outdoorsy," so excursions involving camping and hiking weren't really at the top of the family's list. 3) The last Spring I was in Tucson a group of us planned to go camping on Easter weekend, but a freakish cold front came through and foiled our plans, making northern Arizona as cold and snowy as January. It was so freakish, that it actually snowed in Tucson on Easter Sunday. They're not good excuses, but there they are.

Sigh

Well, it's official. I didn't get the job. Kind of annoyed that the letter took so long to get to me because they sent it to my Massachusetts address even though I gave them my new address. But I had kind of figured since I hadn't heard anything...

Sigh...

Harvey Says, "Happy Fall!"

Harvey wanted you all to see his jaunty Autumnal bow. He's festive.

The Schizophrenia Is Coming Along Nicely

I'm sure my roommates and anyone I've talked to consecutively over the last couple of days have just about had it with my mood swinginess. Yesterday and last night and even this morning I was all teary and desolate about not having found a job yet and not having any temp work and just basically feeling useless and hopeless and worthless. Why doesn't anyone want to hire me? I'm pretty cool. I did okay in law school. I have work experience.

Things picked up a little bit though when I went to my appointment today at a legal staffing place. They staff secretaries and paralegals as well as attorneys and I got in there on the secretarial side. I sent a resume to them a couple of weeks ago on the attorney side and never heard back, but the secretarial people wanted to talk with me immediately. Foot in the door.

So I took the secretarial tests (which I gleefully imagined when I started law school I would never have to do again, but such is life) and rocked them. Got 100% on my spelling and grammar test, to which I thought, "Well I should hope so." Otherwise, I'd have a lot of explaining to do to the kind people who bestowed an MA in American Lit on me a few years ago. Good news: the secretarial rep already had a position she wanted to submit me for.

Then she had me meet with the paralegal rep. Guess what? In his prior life he was a health care attorney. I'm not kidding. Unfortunately, it wasn't in DC, so he doesn't have any connections here, but we chatted and he gave me some advice about my job search. He also gave me his card and told me to email or call if I ever wanted to talk about HIPAA or about how much the job search sucks. Either one. Plus, he's going to try to get me submitted for the temp attorney positions too. Foot in the door works wonders.

So I came home feeling much more light-hearted. Then I got my big mother credit card bill and almost started hyperventilating.

But it's okay. Progress is being made. I have a couple of leads, have been submitted for a secretarial position, set up a couple of networking appointments for next week, and have an appointment with another legal staffing agency tomorrow. The credit card will get paid off, it's just a matter of getting a decent-paying job. Fingers crossed.

A Month and A Half

It's been a month and a half since I had a regular swimming routine and I can really really REALLY tell. I feel frustrated that I was getting my times lower and doing so well at the end of July, only to realize that now I have to work my way back up again. At least I haven't gained any weight. In fact, if Ryann's scale is to be believed, I've lost a couple of pounds since moving here. Of course that's probably just because all my muscle is turning to flabby flabbiness and everyone knows muscle weighs more than fat.

I swam 60 laps today, 70 yesterday, 60 on Saturday. I just couldn't do anymore today. The first week back is always the worst. It will get better as I get back into a routine, but right now it hurts and I feel like a big ole wimp.

A Question For Anyone Who Might Know About Anatomy and/or Sports Injuries

So I have this weird thing happen when I swim. When I first start out, there's this popping in my upper left arm every time I stroke. It feels like it pops around where the muscle attaches to the shoulder. It generally goes away after I swim for 10 minutes or so, and stops popping at all, but when I first start my laps, there's a definite popping and it hurts. Today it hurt really bad at first, probably because I'm trying to get back into a regular routine and my body isn't used to it. It's been happening for several months. I can't even remember a time when it didn't happen when I swam. Since it goes away, I usually forget about it, but today it hurt pretty bad so it stuck in my head until I got home to ask all of you. Any thoughts as to what it could be?

In the Immortal Words of Those Monty Python Fellows: I'm Not Dead Yet

Feeling a touch better this morning. My roommate L. had a dinner party last night and it felt good to be social again. I saw one girl I met at the campout and met several new people. It's amazing to me how I am such an introvert at times, but I do crave social contact at other times. Especially, I suppose, when I'm sitting at home all day, feeling discouraged.

On Monday I'm going to start calling around to secretarial temp agencies and setting up appointments. I was a secretary for 3 years in Chicago (plus summers while I was in college) and I know the office software and all the various other things you need to know, like how not to be too uppity and how to answer the phone with the perfect syrupy sweet, yet professional voice. I think my only fear at this point is that I would get placed at a law firm and see someone I went to school with. I try honestly to be a humble person, but that would be a blow to my pride.

I have also made the executive decision that I need to swim and pull myself out of this funk. It's $64 for 20 swims at the local pool, and I figure that's about 4 weeks worth, you know, if I go every weekday, which, let's be honest, I probably won't. If I haven't found ANY work in the next 4 weeks, I'm going to need much more than $64 and in the grand scheme of things it won't make much difference. However, it will make a difference to my mental state. Yesterday afternoon I was getting ready to go to the grocery store and I burst into tears and almost couldn't stop. Yeah, I can't do that anymore.

So I have a plan. Of course, I'm also going to keep on top of the networking contacts. I'll find something.

Worried

Apparently this is going to be the year of spiritual doubt and confusion for me, as evidenced by prior posts.

I wasn't going to write about this, but as it goes on and on, and I feel myself getting more and more panicky, I realize I don't really have anything else I can think of to write about.

So I'm not finding work. I haven't heard back from the firm and as the days pass I become more and more convinced that I'm not getting that job. I emailed one of the partners this morning (she told me to if I hadn't heard from them this week) and she hasn't emailed me back yet. I'm registered with 5 temp agencies, and sent in my resume to 3 more yesterday, but no one has had work for me yet. Is there no work to be had or is no one interested in me specifically?

I'm networking. Lots and lots of networking. Thus far, no one knows of jobs, just more people I should talk to.

I'm living as frugally as I can and trying to stave off expenses as long as possible. I should have enough money for October rent, but then it starts getting dire. I'm stressed out and my doubts and fears are becoming my main topics of conversation, which is no fun for me or for the person on the other end of the conversation, I'm sure.

I wonder if I've made a big mistake. Did I just want to move to DC so I read signs into everything and interpreted everything as an answer to my prayers for guidance? My big question lies with the blessing I got from my bishop in May, confirming that I made the right choice, and specifically saying that I would find work, and would have multiple opportunities present themselves. It doesn't do me much good if opportunities start presenting themselves in November, December, or January, AFTER I can't pay rent anymore, AFTER my credit rating is ruined, and AFTER my car is repossessed.

I just assumed everything would work out because things always have in the past.

I also can't afford to go swimming so I haven't really worked out in some time, which is not helping my mental state. I'm lonely and I miss my friends back in Boston. I'm tired of sitting at home on the computer, searching for SOMEthing, emailing out resumes, and hoping someone will want to talk to me. I find myself wondering why I went to law school in the first place, if it's looking more and more like I should just start doing secretarial temping. Why did I pay $90,000 to do the job I was doing and hating before law school?

Apartment Tour

By popular demand (well, Cicely asked, and I'm sure my parents are curious), I give you Kelly's New Apartment in Virginia.

We walk in the front door and are greeted by the living room to the right


and the dining room to the left.

There is a lovely armoire across from the couches, which Kristina got on Craig's List and which is apparently freakin' heavy. We are planning on getting a couple of coffee tables for the living room and a larger dining room table. It's all a process. And this place is just so huge that we don't quite have the furniture to fill it yet.

Off of the dining room is the kitchen.

Mom and Dad, I'd like you to note the cobalt blue glass bottle filled with olive oil on the counter. I'm putting it to good use.

Through the back door, which you can see in the dining room picture, is our porch and backyard. L. and Kristina are growing various plants, and if I ever get a job and some spare money, I plan on buying some bulbs to plant. Tulips, maybe.



Today I discovered a big mother spider sitting in a big mother spider web on the back porch. Actually it almost doesn't look like a spider, but like a lobster and a spider had a little brown and gold baby. (So, heads up, roomies)

Back inside, past the living room, on the left is Kristina and L's bedrooms and bathroom.


On the right is the staircase down to my lair. Um, my part of the apartment.


The family room. This is my HUGE couch, which is very comfortable, and has caused lots of good Mormon boys to come very, very close to dropping an F-bomb or two as they struggled through tiny doorways and stairwells with it.

Also, the footstool-less Ikea chair. Still comfy, even without the footstool.

Across from the couch is my TV and two bookshelves.

One thing I love about my basement abode is the little nook in each window. I have a plant in one and decorative candles in the others.

Through the living room is a little hallway, flanked by another bookshelf and leading to my bathroom and bedroom (and Harvey).


A few years ago I discovered that the only reason why I ever have space issues is because I need by own bathroom. Once again, I have my own bathroom, and once again I have plenty of room for all of my crap.


Entering my bedroom, you see my bed, nightstand, dresser, and Easter, my teddy bear. I thought long and hard about purchasing the turquoise duvet cover in the Spring. See, I really wanted it because it was bright and Springy/Summery. But could I justify spending the money? I wound up getting it when I went to Target one day, they were on sale, and there was only one twin-size duvet left. It was a sign!

I have red and off-white linens for the Fall. I think I'll switch over in October.

Turn to your right, and you see my desk, which was actually my great-grandma's desk at one point, and which I intend to paint one of these days as the white paint is chipping off the edges and the paint on the hutch has taken on a decidedly green tinge.


Closets. Yep. Don't have much to say about those except for it's lovely to have actual closets again (my closet in Cambridge was an awkward indentation in the wall).


The wall opposite the desk, with my Monet print from the Art Institute of Chicago.


And that ends the tour. If you go out the door right outside of my room, you'll run into Harvey. Give him a pat, if you like.

Introducing Harvey

I am typing to you from my home. That's right, we are now the proud owners (well, renters) of DSL. I got it all set up tonight so now I don't have to trek to Panera every time I need to look something up on the internet and check my email. Although I will miss their French Onion Soup...

Since I'm here and comfy and my camera is easily accessible, I thought it was about time that you all meet Harvey. Say hello.


Harvey is our 4th roommate. His full name is Harvey Dexy's Midnight Runner, but he just races under that name. He's Harvey to his friends.

When I came to visit in July and checked out my future apartment, Kristina introduced me to Harvey. At first he creeped me out because he's lifesize and seriously looks very, very real. He's painted on the inside of the door of our second entrance, which also happens to be right outside my bedroom. However, after a bit, I decided that I loved him.

I would like you to take note of the peephole eye


as well as the lock placed strategically to look like the lock on Harvey's stall.


Whoever painted Harvey put a lot of effort into him. He's our watchhorse.

And, yes, we understand that a painted watchhorse is completely bizarre, but frankly, having overcome my initial shock, he now just makes me giggle. I also have a strange desire to pat his nose and say good-night before I go to bed every evening.

Friday

Met with 2 staffing agencies and am currently at my roommate's office using an extra computer to waste time until my networking appointment at 5 PM.

Have a friend coming in this weekend and am super excited about that.

Not feeling very articulate or funny, but thought you all should know that I bought new black shoes yesterday that don't make my feet feel like they're going to fall off while I'm pounding the pavement. Then for good measure, I also bought a smokin' pair of eggplant tweed pumps with kitten heels and a little velvet bow that were 30% off. My feet are the cutest things you've ever seen in them. And I have ugly feet, so that's saying a lot.

La Musica

Saw Carbon Leaf in concert last night. Awesome! It was a great time. Throughout the show, the lead singer kept grabbing random percussive instruments from in front of the drum set and playing them. You know, like those instruments you used to get to play in music class and make a glorious cacophany in the cafeteria. Tambourines and sticks with a myriad of jingle bells attached. At least that's what we did in my elementary school. Every time he grabbed something else, all I could think was, "What this really needs is more cowbell!"


The opening band, Stephen Kellogg & the Sixers were great too. Actually they were hilarious, especially the bass player who did an outstanding dance routine a la Napoleon Dynamite. I'm going to have to pick up one of their CDs. Or download a couple of songs off of itunes. Probably the latter, if I'm honest. According to their website they're opening for the Indigo Girls tonight in Nashville, so I say, go see them. Right now. And the Indigo Girls should be pretty awesome too, I would think.

Carbon Leaf, could we please get some regular baseball caps and not just trucker caps in your memorabilia collection? I was so going to buy a hat until I saw they were all trucker hats and trucker hats are a) passe, and b) soooo Ashton Kutcher.

Torn

I had two appointments today and they left me torn as to my best course of action.

First, I met with a man who used to work on the Hill and knows all about networking and potential policy work and all of that. He advised me that if I can keep myself afloat by working temp jobs, even secretarial jobs again, that I should do that and hold out for the health law/health policy job I really want. He got me all excited thinking about finding that perfect job for me where I could be all passionate and really delve into this area that I am so interested in.

But then I had the callback interview at the firm. Last time I was there I met with five people. Today I met with 6, including 2 managing partners. The work isn't really anything I've ever wanted to do, but the firm is great. Everyone is nice and jokey and laid back. The firm culture is pretty relaxed. They work hard and do good work, but it's very important to them to have outside lives. For instance, I spoke with a woman who has been there for 5 years. Right out of law school she did litigation at a big firm, which is what she always wanted to do, but she hated it because she hated the firm's culture. After a year and a half she left for the firm I interviewed at and has been so happy ever since, even though, as she admits, sometimes the work isn't very challenging and can even be boring once you get the hang of it. But she's married and has managed to have two kids since she started working there. At this point in my life, having an outside life is important to me.

I feel like if they make me an offer I would be dumb to turn them down if they make me an offer because a) it's a job, and b) it seems like a great place to work. But then there's the elusive magical health care job...

I realize I'm putting the cart before the horse here. They haven't made me an offer. But the interviews went pretty darn well. At one point I was talking on speakerphone to the wife of one of the managing partners (she happened to call while I was chatting with him) about literature because she was an English major too. Random, yes? And very cozy.

The Woods

I just spent the last 3 days "camping." I put camping in quotes because honestly it was pretty posh camping. Frankly, the whole set up made me think of The Parent Trap. It was like I was at Camp Inch, only without Hayley Mills and Hayley Mills (and that girl who played LaRue on Gidget). We slept in cabins, ate in a dining hall, had indoor plumbing. The only gripe I had was that we had to share our bathroom with about 400 daddy-long-legs, 200 little worms, and a couple of bigger and grosser spiders. I generally like spiders, since they eat the icky bugs and all, but not en masse, and not when they threaten to leap in my plastic bag of toiletries as soon as I close my eyes to wash my face.

By Monday morning, I think the spiders were planning their coup. First, there was a daddy-long-legs perched, looking casual, down near the mirror of the far left sink, then the next time I went in there were two. By the time we cleaned up, there were five all clustered together by the mirror, conspiring, with a sixth one making his way down to join the group. Thank heavens we left soon after or it could have gotten ugly.

Other than the spiders, I had fun, despite my bad attitude Friday night. See, I got the impression from the myriad of emails that the retreat committee sent out that the time was going to be pretty much our own and that I could spend it lolling by the pool. My cabinmates were looking forward to horseback riding. The schedules we received upon arrival showed that, in fact, pretty much all of our time except for a four-hour chunk on Saturday was planned. Um, I could be home watching E Entertainment Television, people.

So I grumbled some about that, and matters did not improve when we discovered that not only were there no horses for the promised horseback riding, but the pool would remain closed unless it turned out someone in the ward was a certified lifeguard. No one was. Grumble grumble.

However, it would up being a lot of fun. The team-building activities gave me a chance to unglue myself from the sides of my roommates and meet people. Then we had free time Saturday and I went canoeing and swimming in a deceptively pristine, but actually very slimey lake. I have never felt such grossness oozing between my toes, but we were laughing the whole time. By the Saturday night campfire, though, I hit my socializing brick wall. As an admitted introvert, socializing does tend to wear me out. At that point I had met probably 75 new people and been surrounded by crowds for about 12 hours. I walked into the crowded campfire area and felt like I was going to scream. I sat on a bench for a minute, and determined it would do me more good to go back to my cabin and get ready for bed than to be surly to a ward full of new people. Or, for that matter, to let out a random shriek. I really didn't want to be known as Kelly, the Weird New Girl.

On Sunday I learned some hand, arm, and neck massage tips in a workshop, which I'm looking forward to trying out. Sunday night our Stake President gave an excellent fireside, appropriately out by the campfire. Monday morning we cleaned up the camp and left. Well, those of us who stayed cleaned up. I know some people had legitimate reasons for leaving on Sunday night, but I also know that some people left just to avoid cleaning up, which I thought was pretty crappy considering the relatively cushy and easy weekend we'd just had. But whatever. After it took all of 45 minutes to clean the entire camp, the organizers brought out the food leftovers and we got to pick over them. The food was great the whole time we were there, so the 50 or so of us who were left descended on the table like locusts. Kristina, L. and I brought home quite a haul, including an entire gallon of fat free milk and a big ziploc bag of pulled pork for sandwiches. Go team!

I do have to say that church was a wee bit excruciating. It wound up lasting 3 hours and 45 minutes and I spent that time either on a backless bench or on a metal folding chair at a weird angle that I hoped wouldn't result in me being dumped on the ground. My back and my tailbone were KILLING ME by the end. This is one of the reasons I've determined listening to General Conference on the internet is the best method for me because when I'm in pain I can't concentrate and am only thinking about when it's going to be over, instead of actually listening. Ever since I bent my tailbone when I was 8, I can't really sit for long periods of time. So Sunday morning was rough, and I wish it hadn't been because I know good things were being said in testimony meeting.

I discovered this weekend that the woods make me dream some crazy dreams. Sunday night I had two very vivid ones. The first concerned me living in an extremely haunted house. I was too scared to be at home alone so if I knew I would be the only one there I made sure to stay out as long as possible. Then it turned into a Tim Burton movie and Johnny Depp and Christina Ricci were there to offer a bit of levity. Good times.

The second dream was even more disturbing. Tomorrow night I'm going to see Carbon Leaf, My New Favorite Band. In my dream my friends came to me and told me that we weren't going to see Carbon Leaf anymore, but instead were going to see Kenny G. Noooooooooooooooo!

Yesterday, to make up for the no pool at camp I spent a couple of hours at one of the pools in my complex. I don't think the tan on my arms and the tan on my legs are ever going to match, but I put in a valiant effort to get my legs darker (well, as dark as I could with SPF 30 on). Kristina and I watched a good 6 hours of the 3rd Season of Smallville and I took a shower without a spider entourage. When all is said and done, camping is fun, but I really really enjoy my amenities.

New Blogger

I'd like to draw your attention to a new link for my former roommate Angie's blog under "Bloggin' Mormons." Angie knows more about birds than anyone probably should, and she also won my undying love for driving me to the airport at 4:45 AM several weeks ago.

Apparently I'm Using This Blog To Disclose All of My Embarrassing Moments to the World

I fell down the stairs today and boy, did I feel stupid. See, I have dry skin so I put lotion on the bottoms of my feet. And we have very soft, very slippery carpet. I was headed upstairs with some stuff and realized I forgot something so I turned back around and my foot just shot out from under me. It's so weird to think, "Holy crap, I'm falling" and to fully realize there's absolutely nothing you can do about it. I kind of twisted my knee a little, but I walked on it back and forth across the family room for about five minutes, and it stopped hurting. I willed the knee back into place, by arguing with it that I do not have health insurance nor do I have an income. No hurt body parts allowed.

And to the friend who I called and told this story to and who then laughed at me I say, for shame, Sir.

Lights Go Out

I had been sitting in Panera for all of an hour when the power went out. Just completely out. And none of the staff looked very perturbed. They just kind of glanced around with looks like, "Huh. Whatever." on their faces and continued serving pastries and sandwiches to the people who were still in line. The internet still worked thankfully so I continued working, figuring I'd stop when my battery ran out, which doesn't take very long these days. Then it started getting hot in there. You know, September, northern Virginia, confined space. So I looked online for a different Panera with lovely Wifi and discovered there is another one equidistant from my apartment. In the opposite direction, but equidistant nonetheless.

Imagine my delight when I pulled into this shopping center and discovered the local Trader Joe's (cue choir of angels). I am all about the cheap yumminess. I just sent out several more resumes and made an appointment with another staffing agency for next week and now I'm heading over to TJ's. I'm hoping that it is better than the one in Cambridge, though I dare not hope it's as good as the one in Santa Cruz. Santa Cruz has the nirvana of Trader Joe's.

I'm A Classy Dame

I had an interview this morning at a staffing agency. I got there fine, but when I sat down to fill out their info sheet on the computer I realized the slit in the back of my skirt was now located in the front of my skirt. No, I didn't put my skirt on wrong this morning. I'm not that bad. Apparently over the course of my traveling from my home to the District via Metro, my skirt managed to twist itself all the way around. I've had skirts that twisted a little bit and I'd have to readjust, but this was a first for a completely backwards skirt.

I glanced surreptitiously at the receptionist seated 5 feet away from me and when her head was down managed to lift myself up a little from the seat, hold the position, and twist the skirt back around the right way, without completely untucking my shirt. Let's hear it for swimmer thighs!

So I'm worried. A friend of mine tells me I worry too much, and I grant him that, yes, I do generally worry too much. But I think I have cause to be seriously worried at this point. My funds are rapidly decreasing and I'm worried about not making enough (or anything for that matter) this month and having no money to pay my bills in October. In fact, the funds I'm using right now are a cushion I gave myself at the beginning of the summer that I was hoping not to have to use and to just be able to pay right back. But I have to use it.

I hate money. I really don't want to be rich and to have everything. I just want enough to pay off my debt and someday own a little home.

And apparently the DC Court of Appeals has decided to make it lots of fun for those of us who haven't passed the Bar yet. They recently issued a decision severely limiting the ability of non-barred attorneys to do any real work in DC. So while the staffing lady told me I have a great resume and once I am admitted to the DC Bar I'll be fine, that won't be happening until around the beginning of next year probably. Swell. Oh and this is also assuming that I didn't completely blow the Multistate, which I'm increasingly believing in my heart that I did.