Psychobiography 201680 Curiosities served |
2008-04-08 10:21 AM TOL Previous Entry :: Next Entry Read/Post Comments (0) It means thinking out loud.
I'm nerving out the wait for a phone call I hope will never ever come, here. Such a wuss. It's about a job. Her name is Shirley, and the only other thing I know about her is that she called me during dinner yesterday and I told her so. So. So she said she'd call the next morning, which was agreeable due to the eldest boy being away at school and the weather inviting the littlest outside for introspective play--not the rambunctious risky play with his brother, the kind I'm often called out for supervision and not phone conversing. Shirley is almost a whole half hour absent. My empty stomach ... it growls. Last thing I want to do is crunch Wheaties at her; they can cause mild choking now and then, and life, being funny like it is, would have me choke just as I went to answer the call. I'd attempt Hello, but no sound, just an uncontrollable urge to cough the scratchy itch out, would come. I don't know what Shirley's organization is. These days the first three digits of a phone number reveal nothing. 889. Could be anywhere. Maybe I'll have oatmeal instead. Officially a half an hour plus two minutes late. Three minutes. (Growl below left breast.) I'm a pizza maker, you know. What do I know about myself besides my pizza producing and servicing skills? I've dug deep to answer that. What I've come up with, the desire to help others, is present only on Wednesdays, Fridays, and Saturdays, I found. In other words, weather permitting. And sometimes, no, often when I try to clear the mind and be myself so to not try too hard, I clear it to the point where I have nothing to say, no answer to explain myself. What are your goals with our company? Uh, hire me and you'll find out. Hire me and I'll find out! My goal is to find a job I like as much as my current, er, previous lifelong job. And one that is extremely flexible as far as raising my kids goes. Again, like my pizza career is. And then there's the whole daycare bit. I don't want to get started on that. $250 a week, $375 in the summer. Enough said. I do have family offering to help somewhat. I'm lucky there, but hate to ask for help, which does not work to my advantage, I know I know. Well, 10:16 and about time for me to eat or face a headache. Looking forward to overcoming the hurdles so I can laugh at my worry-stricken self already. Read/Post Comments (0) Previous Entry :: Next Entry Back to Top |
||||||
© 2001-2010 JournalScape.com. All rights reserved. All content rights reserved by the author. custsupport@journalscape.com |