wordinista

The good: Picked the car up this morning and it seems to be fixed. The shop found a clogged valve that seemed to be responsible for the misfire. They also performed some kind of cleaning process (it sounded like he called an "engine fog," but I can't be sure). They also found a fair bit of water and sediment in the fuel, so I'm supposed to buy some dry gas and put it in the fuel tank the next few times I fill up. Also, this last visit did not cost me one red cent. \o/

The bad: I have a case study due tomorrow night, a research paper due next week, and an exam the week after that.

The AUGH: All of the articles I compiled for my research paper just got LOST because my stupid library session timed out.

I leave for NH a week from tomorrow, and still do not have shoes for my dress. ON THE UPSIDE, I now have a dress that FITS.

And that is all. NOW IT'S NOSE TO THE GRINDSTONE TIME.

Okay, so.  I haven't mentioned this for a while, because I just... didn't want to bring it up if nothing came of it, but -- today I had my interview with that school in Orlando!  It went really, really well, despite my going to the wrong building first and ending up ten minutes late for said interview.  Evidently I wasn't the first to make such a mistake, which made me feel a lot less stupid.

It was... let's see... about an hour, ten minutes there, taking all the major highways/toll roads, and about an hour, thirty minutes back, taking the county roads.  If we moved further north (which we've been talking about), then I'd probably be looking at a 45 minute commute, which... is tolerable.  There are, of course, complications with this, since the place we take the dogs for doggy-daycare is near where we are NOW, and it's such a great place that I'd hate to bring the dogs anywhere else.  Also... my schedule would be... weird.  Just... weird.  So I'm kind of ambivalent regarding that.

Frankly, the pay would have to make the commute/gas/tolls/weirdness of schedule worthwhile.  It seems like a great job and a great school with great opportunities, but... it may not be my cuppa.  We'll have to see. 

Okay, so.  Every now and again I get the urge to peruse job sites, because OMG some days I really, really do not enjoy working for the ol' family business.  Scratch that -- most days I don't en...

Okay, let's be real:  I kinda hate it.  All the time.  Always.  There is not one single aspect I like about it, other than the "getting paid" part.

So, I poked around on Monster, and found a faculty position at a school over in Winter Park.  Looks... pretty much tailor-made for me, and I sent my resume off, even though Winter Park is, like, over an hour away.  So, assuming I get an interview, and assuming they consider me, and assuming A WHOLE LOT OF OTHER STUFF, the money would have to be worth the gas and tolls it would take to get there.

Anyway, I'm over at Mom's house, giving her the inventory sheets I was working on, and she mentioned... something. I don't even remember how it came up, but I wound up telling her about the job.

I really should know better than to do stupid things like that.  Because I got hit with everything from "The tolls will be very expensive!" to "You'll need to get a new car!"  to "But what about the gas money?"  to "What are you going to do with the dogs?" to "Are you sure you'll be able to handle an 8 hour day with that kind of commute?"  --Like ALL OF THOSE THINGS haven't crossed my mind already.  I don't know anything about the job, other than the fact that it's a faculty position in the English department for this school.  It requires a Masters Degree, and there's a hint of administrative stuff that will likely go along with the teaching stuff.  I don't know what the schedule would be, I don't know what the pay would be, and I don't know whether the job would be worth taking SHOULD THEY OFFER IT TO ME.

I hate it when she does that.  Hate.  It.  Because I swear she does it just because she likes getting the extra help with the grunt work, without thinking, Hey, maybe my daughter would like to do something remotely related to her degree that she spent an extra two years getting.  She KNOWS I've been feeling really down about not doing work related to my degree, and that I've been feeling like getting my graduate degree was an utter waste of time if I'm basically going to end up being a stay-at-home mom to two dogs.  And it drives me CRAZY when I preface something with, "I have no idea the details of the job, but here it is..." and then she hits me with a barrage of questions about it.

...Rar.

Sydney's cough is improving significantly, and she seems to be settling into herself. Unfortunately, the "self" she's settling into has pretty lousy doggy manners, so I'm gonna have to work on that in the immediate future.  Now what we're tackling is a skin condition -- might just be dry skin, might be a contact irritation, might be an allergy of some sort -- it's too early to tell.  I do know that she was being fed pretty cheap food, plus whatever the shelter fed her, so my money is on a food allergy, which could take a month to clear up.  Whee.

Tora and I are going to start walking the doggies first thing in the am -- like 6:30 am -- which ... should be... fun?  And then I'll walk them in the afternoons.  I've been taking them for walks together, and it hasn't been too much of a headache, except for when Darwin gets it into his head that he wants to wrestle with Sydney WHILE WE'RE WALKING.

I have been catching up on my sleep lately, and no longer feel like complete ass, which is such a relief.

Also?  I have managed to keep a houseplant alive for a whole month now.  This is big stuff, believe me.  I have the brownest of the brown thumbs, and this thing is STILL ALIVE.  

I think I may have to break down and see a doctor about my hand.  I was pretty certain what was wrong with my index finger was the beginning stirrings of arthritis, but I want to make sure, because if it isn't, and there's something I can do about this, I really want to do it.  Because I hate the fact that holding a pen to sign my name can actually hurt.  WTF.

Mom:  *calls*

Me:  *is having lunch.  nearly chokes self trying to swallow mouthful of sammich to answer so I don't have to hear another lecture about how I never answer my phone. (because my mother calls when I am either IN THE SHOWER or WALKING THE DOG I swear)  I proceed to explain to mother that I am  having lunch*

Mom:  *makes clear that I can keep on lunching, and plz to continue eating*

Me: *omnomnom*

Mom:  *...proceeds to engage in conversation at me (this is pretty common for us)*

Me:  *omnomnom*

Mom:  *asks me questions that require an actual answer composed of words rather than thoughtful silence*

Me:  *is eating.  MOUTH IS FULL.  thoughtful silence is all she gets until I manage to swallow another mouthful of sammich.*

Well, she lost another pound (down to 6.5 lbs now), and her PCV value is about 7%, which is considered to be fatal levels.  However, her personality is still very much in place, and she's eating and drinking, so the plan is to keep her on meds and as comfortable as possible for the time she has left.  She will likely become weaker -- to the point where she won't have any interest in eating or drinking.  At that point, we're going to have to bring her in for the last time.  But like I said, she's still active (in that she's walking around and getting into trouble), and still demanding attention, so hopefully that day is a long way off.

This wasn't an easy decision to come to, but we both feel it's the right decision.  She's not in any pain, she's just... weak.

The pharmacy, however, is being... you know what?  There aren't words for what they're being.  I've been having a devil of a time filling the cytoxin prescription Bronte needs (in addition to her Prednisone, which I can get from the vet clinic's pharmacy).  Every single time I've dropped the prescription off, they've been all, "Okay! You can pick it up in two hours!"  Then I go back:  "We're sorry, this is out of stock.  It'll be in in a few days!"  I go back a few days later: "We're sorry, this is out of stock."  WHAT.  JUST.  WHAT.  WTF, PEOPLE.  And it doesn't matter if they call the other Walgreens in the area -- NONE OF THEM HAVE THIS MEDICATION.  I was complaining about this to Dr. Young recently, and he said the next time it happened to call the clinic and THEY'D call the pharmacy to impress upon them the importance of keeping DRUGS IN STOCK.

Argh. 

Back when I was a junior in high school, I was in choir. I was in the larger Concert Choir, and the smaller ladies' ensemble. And we were... actually quite good, but that's another story. That year, during the All-District competition, I met a guy from a high school in Orlando. We hit it off instantly, and were... he was that guy friend you never wanted to date, because you'd miss him too much if you broke up with him. BFF's, all the way -- despite the distance. (Also turned him down when he asked me out because he was 3 inches shorter than me, which led to a huge fight and hurt feelings, and my getting called "shallow" for about a year, but I digress.)

So, we graduated from our respective schools and kept in touch. We didn't talk often -- about every six months or so, but... it never mattered, because we knew we were each other's constant. Tora was very jealous of Brian when we first started dating, because I talked about him All the Time. Tora got over it.

Then, sometime in our twenties, Brian got married, like you do. And he called me less. And then not at all. But, hey, he was married and had a son and sometimes things like friendships take a back burner and that's all right, because BFFs. Then he and his wife got a divorce and I found out that she'd been jealous of our friendship -- not of me, specifically, but of the closeness that was there. I found this out today when, after a series of bizarre accidents, I called him. (Mostly I accidentally dialed him on speed dial when I had intended to call my voicemail and seconds after I hung up and ACTUALLY called voicemail, he called back, left a message, and I returned the call today.)

And then, like you do with someone you haven't talked to in over a year, you catch up.

Brian has a new fiancee, which is wonderful. His son turned five this week, which makes me boggle a little bit.

...And in March he went blind due to complications with diabetes (he's had it his whole life). Evidently he should have been seeing a retina specialist instead of his normal optometrist, and the optometrist didn't recommend a specialist, and now the doctors at the University of Miami hospital are telling him that if he'd been seeing a retina specialist, this never would have happened. He's going to be having some surgeries and they're going to restore his sight to the best of their ability. Best case scenario, he'll have 20/200 eyesight and will need corrective lenses.

I don't... know why this hurts so much. I was fine while I was on the phone with him and he vowed to call me this weekend so we can get together and I can meet the new fiancee, but the moment I got off the phone, I started crying. I mean, he was joking about it and... that's kind of just the type of person he is. But every time I think about him, my heart hurts a little. Like... if I'd been a better friend and called more often, then I could have been there for him. Or something. I don't know.

I'm just... why did something like that have to happen to him?

(Apropos of nothing, I do not use this icon nearly enough.)

Okay, so after a few emo entries, I'm finding that the writing bug is slowly returning.  I wrote about a thousand words on UT last week, which made me very happy, and I even ironed out some plot points that had been bothering me for a while and some characterization issues.  So that's GOOD.

The rooster is still at large.  Not good.  But I'm not going to run around trying to catch that thing. Screw that.  I'll sic Darwin after it first.  Hell, I may get him a retractable leash just so he can get some distance in and really scare that cock. 

Mom and Gramps are going away to NH for two weeks starting tomorrow.  Mom has offered to go to Trader Joe's for me (YAY!) and bring back goodies.  Words do not express how much my mother rocks for doing this.  (Everyone. Flood Trader Joe's with Location Request Forms begging them to put a store in Florida.  Please.  There may be baked goods in it for you.  Locations in Brevard or Indian River County are best.  Satellite Beach, Indian Harbour Beach, and Vero Beach are all communites that would LOVE a TJ's.  And they're all within reasonable driving distance for me, too!)

I'm not entirely sure what TJ's is stocking these days, since it's been a few years since I last went to one, so if anyone has any recommendations for travel-friendly (i.e.: non-perishable) goodies that I might include on my wish-list, I'd appreciate it.  I know the store stock varies by region, but that's okay.  Also, there was a coffee that I used to get, back in the day.  I don't remember the name of it, but it came in a blue canister with a bird on it (I want to say it was a toucan).  DOES ANYONE KNOW IF TJ'S STILL STOCKS THIS COFFEE.  Because I am going to ask for it if they do, to hell with Tora's disapproving looks.  (If she could bring back refrigerated goods, the list would be so much longer. I have yet to find a pink grapefuit juice I like better than TJ's brand, and coming from someone who lives in Florida, that's pretty pathetic.)

Now, onto the ARGH section of the entry.  It's not fair that this job has ME written ALL OVER IT and is over two hours away.  I'm tempted to apply for it anyway, but I'd feel like an ass for turning it down if I managed to get it.  But still!  I COULD SO DO THAT.  But... two hour commute?  Holy god, kill me please.  I love the job listing.  I love the job listing like burning.  Okay, it's a county job, BUT STILL.  It's got a good starting salary, and the job listing was written by someone awesome.  Of course, that salary combined with Tora's salary would mean I could afford a new vehicle that would probably make such a commute bearable.  But still -- four hours of my day spent behind the wheel of a car (particularly given gas prices today) =/= awesome.  I dunno.  What do you guys think?  (I might work on a writing sample, and if I can write a decent sample, then maybe I'll apply just for laughs.)

I'll stick to my original plan for this week regardless, which involves buying a book (thank you for the rec, somnambulicious!) and working on a business plan for the tea shop (SBA website, here I come!).  And I don't have class NEXT week, so much of next week will very likely be spent working on my various fics, original and otherwise.  (Someone, please talk me out of writing a ROCKS FALL, EVERYONE DIES ending for OGAM. I'm that desperate to finish the damned thing, srsly.)

Also?  Sunday?  This Sunday marks one year since Tora and Bunneh said "I do."  One year since a whole assload of LOLZ DRAMA that I still cannot believe happened.  Also one year since we stopped talking to his parents, and if that's not worth celebrating, I don't know what is. 

PS:  Anyone who follows officialgaiman -- is Maddy not the best guest-blogger EVER?

PPS: I suddenly want to enter the Bulwer-Lytton Fiction Contest and write an entry mocking my mother in-law to commemorate the anniversary.

Um.  Right.  So.

I didn't get it.

I don't feel like talking about it.  I'm mostly done crying, though the urge does still pop up, however sporadically.  I'm trying to read this as the universe telling me to get on with my tea shop, but I just love teaching so much. And I'm good at it.  (I'm suspecting they got someone either with more high school teaching experience, or who actually specializes in American literature, since that's what the position was for, and my specialty is British.)

So... yeah.  Yesterday was not what you'd call a red-letter day. 

Today, however, we're going to see Pirates, and there has been talk of going out to dinner afterward so I may drown my sorrows in something fermented and very, very potent.  And there are very few sorrows that Cap'n Jack and rum cannot soothe. 

I did, however, get an interesting and... eerily apropos horoscope this morning:

Pisces:  You are emerging from a small funk. Things are looking up for you now.

I'm not sure I'd agree with the "small funk" part of it, as I've been in a funk for about two weeks now (this news just happened to be the pinnacle), but if things are going to start looking up, I'm certainly not going to complain.

EDIT:  OMGWTF. PIRATES.  ASDFJK;  JACK.  JACK.  JACK.  DO ME, JACK. OMG.  WILL.  WILL.  WIIIIIILL.  OMG. EVERYONE.  PIRATES.  ASDJFKASDJFK;LASDKJ;A

So, yeah.  There is no sorrow Jack Sparrow can't soothe.