And the days move on

It’s been a rough week. Anxiety like mine breeds in depression. When I can’t move, it gets worse. By can’t move I mean that I’m stuck. I did get my car back on Friday. I did get my final check so bills are paid and I can survive the remainder of the month. These are no longer worries that I have.

When I got the call my car was ready, I tried to do several things at once but decided to hoof it to the collision center instead of oh… I don’t know, calling the dude to ask for a ride. This is a problem I have. I don’t ask for help when I need it. I paint myself into corners until it’s too late. I did get there. I clocked 2.3 miles in 50 minutes. We can shave 10 minutes for the waits at the lights so I could cross. For Gimpy McGimpster, it was fucking awesome.

It was a chilly day so I also came home with a cold.

In any case, my Darling car is back home. She is whole. She is pretty. She is clean! These amazing men fixed the damage to the car and then offered me a sweet deal of fixing the damage I got from last year’s parking lot smash and dash (some asshole put a dent in my car while I was Christmas shopping) for almost nothing. Not only did I get my car fixed, got a sweet deal, had my car cleaned… these guys put all my belongings together and left them where I could easily find them in my car. I didn’t even know half these items were in the car.

Saturday I braved the Walmart AND the laundromat. In the same half day. This was before I realized that I was sick. I talked to strangers. I smiled at a guy who let me have the remainder of his dry-time for my whites.

Doesn’t sound like a sock-rocking weekend? Totally was.

Saturday, Sunday and Monday were all spent avoiding people, nursing my germy self and eating soup. I did have to go out and about on Sunday to hunt out Kleenex and Mentholatum. Came home with FIVE boxes of Kleenex. I know. Overkill. I did kill a box of Kleenex between Saturday’s Walmart foray and Sunday’s White Collar marathon. It was really, really gross.

So, I watched TV. So, I wrote some. So, I worked on Sudoku puzzles. All so that I didn’t just sleep away three days with nothing to show for it.

Today, I got my DL situation sorted out and went on an interview.

My first interview in over five years.

It was weird. It was a group interview for one. When I asked a dear friend what she thought that meant, she said she figured it was like the one she had when we hired her for the company we both used to work for.

I should note it was probably one of the most unprofessional interviews I ever conducted (or participated in conducting), except for maybe that one other one. I walked in late and delirious and had no questions for the clearly very nice young lady sitting across from my boss-at-the-time. I was fresh off my latest quit-smoking, stop-the-caffeine notion and I was dying. I’m sure it was very intimidating to be interviewed by what was essentially half the office at once. Okay, it was just two of us but it’s a small office.

My group interview today went like this: Show up at the designated address only to find the email did not specify a suite. Gathered forces with a few co-interviewees to find the right place. Took a packet, a couple of questionnaires  a pen, a highlighter and a heavy paper name card to my seat to fill out, set my name out and wait. There ended up being nine of us. We introduced ourselves, our former selves and our future selves. That’s just my interpretation of the order of the questions. “My name is___. I used to work as ____ for ____. I know I can be a great asset to your company because ____.”

It lasted about an hour. We’ll find out next week if we didn’t get it. We’ll find out the week after if we did. Fingers crossed.

I was so nervous that I didn’t eat until after the interview at the insistence of my dear friend. So… that’s two tamales at 4PM. Her darling boyfriend had to coax me to eat pizza with them thought I was still kind of not hungry. I ate. Cause not eating can be much worse.

It’s really windy outside. There was a downpour earlier. My cold is lingering and blurring into an allergy attack. In fact, I’ve written this post in a dye-free Benadryl-induced haze while messaging with my old boss (the one before the most recent) about my state of being.

It’s hard to know what exactly that is. I’m alive. I’m less and less burdened with stress.

I did stop by the job today to turn in my phone charger. I’m officially work free. I got caught up with a coworker. Things aren’t very good right now and I’m sorry for the situation but it wasn’t one of my making. It’s just what that place does to people. She tried to call and text me earlier but my phone died. I haven’t put all my cords back in the car. Hopefully tomorrow she’ll touch base with better news than she is expecting.

The world will spin on. Maybe I get a call that I’m being called back for a second round interview. Maybe I’ll finish writing a book. Maybe I’ll play the lottery and win. Hah. Maybe is a good word.


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