Tuesday, February 15, 2011

m -

There are less than 8 days until Chicago? I don’t see how this is possible, nor can I bear to check the weather, but I have ordered my long underwear and it might even arrive on time. And I’ll pack scarves and hats and mittens and hope my pea coat will do the job. Although I assume you’re not going to make me play outdoors at length in bitter wind or anything. Gaze at the pretty snow falalala and then go inside for pedicures or something, right? Although I’m mostly not even going to know what to do with myself without children and will probably be in awe that I made it around the city 10 or so years ago somehow. How?

All this week it’s warm and dare I say it – almost springlike. I can feel it my fingers, I can feel in my toes. And you must sing that smarmily like Bill Nighy or it just isn’t going to work. Although yesterday was so wind-whippy it would have yanked your hat right off your head if you were wearing one. And it’s supposed to be that way again tomorrow? Randomly? I don’t get it. But the plus side is that it might give a little time to paint downstairs and make headway, if being outside is unbearable or whatever.

I don’t know what’s happening with the imaginary job. Mostly I don’t think about it, although I did email to say I was “becoming concerned.” I have concerns. Tim Gunn speaks. I don’t *believe* that it was a setup in which they’d steal my identity and sell it to thugs or anything, but I suppose it’s entirely possible. My gut tells me that they’re a startup with too much happening all at once with a flaky, scattered and/or too-small staff. And the job may or may not eventually happen. I’m kind of ambivalent at this point.

Random note of pop culture: the 101 Reasons to Love Parks & Rec by EW this week is brills. It only took me 3 days to read due to so many interruptions but whatever.

I suppose I should go to bed. I’m still subject to a touch of insomnia and find myself avoiding bed until around midnight or so, usually. Which doesn’t work so well when the charming short people decide a good time to wake up is 6:45. That hurt, this morning. So maybe tonight I’ll do better. Although I’m reading ItsKindofaFunnyStory and that might easily lure my restless mind to wakefulness.


P.S. bird funeral what?

No comments: