I have new evidence that I may, indeed, be the front runner in the race to replace Job. It’s really difficult to let a smile be your umbrella when the storm is a fine mist of annoyances that can best be defined as uneducated fecal matter. (Think it out slowly and it will start to make sense.)
I realize that I am not plagued by boils (Unless you count the mega zit on my chin that won’t go away. I’m thinking about drawing a design around it and pretending it is a face tattoo.) And my family is mostly intact. (Well,there is the ever multiplying wrinkles that are waving towards me in the fabric of my relationship with EH. May I say one more time, why am I the one who is getting the cold shoulder. Whatever, it’s beyond me.)
I am fortunate to be employed, especially after the long dry spell without a regular paycheck. I am about half-way through the internship portion of my Alternative Certification. I know I will have work through the month of June, so there’s plenty of time to gear up for a nice long panic.
I did get an interview for a job I would have really liked to throw myself into so I don’t go insane while I wait for the hole in the roof to turn into an vortex to another dimension (You would be amazed at the number of people who would not at all be surprised at this eventuality.)
I was not selected for that job but I am not without options. As I said, it’s beyond me. I pride myself on my unflappabilty. After all, what’s the worst that could happen? My head will cave in? My best friend will die? My husband will go away?
After all of that, there’s not much that will phase me. I could flap, but I choose not to.
I am a little tense because on days like today when I must pace myself and more or less act like a grown-up I tend to wander through the intrawebs, and find a lot of news tidbits that make me want to smash something or at least voice the question, have James Franco and Shia LaBoeuf switched bodies, ala Freaky Friday, because James is now social media-ing his weird rant?
I know that I sound like I’m wasting time while I put off doing the “What Great Teachers Do Differently” section of my coursework, and I am a little.
I’m wagging the James Franco dog because the tail of the regular news is making me want to stand in the street and officially give it up. So I must have faith in my inner Job and not flap.
It’s beyond me.