Strike today. Finishing Goldilocks' set tomorrow. Musical tech starts this week. It never ends.
And through all my rushed activities, I'm still going to need to set some quality time trying to get myself a job. My interview with the Y didn't really seem to get me anywhere, as Rebecca hasn't called me back, even though she said she'd be happy to give me a job. And I don't know if I really want to pursue teaching swimming lessons anyway. Small children and I don't always get along. I can just imagine myself getting negligent and letting little Johnny belly flop into the deep end.
My biggest problem is the fact that I have ridiculously high standards for where I'd like to work. I don't want to work with food. I don't want to work someplace too big. I don't want it to be terribly far away. Etc. I'm thinking I'll apply at Hallmark, and a few banks, if they hire people my age. Perhaps Colonial, though that'd be pushing my food rule.
In other news, my stepbrother-in-law, Al, is finally coming back from Iraq, after two years, 4 total missed birthdays of his children, and one planned and canceled leave. I can't imagine being away for that long. Two years of being almost completely out of touch with your home, save e-mails and phone calls to your wife.
As proud as I am of Al, I really kind of hope none of my friends ever join the military. I don't like thinking that someone I'm close to could be sent to another country and shot.
No comments:
Post a Comment