I had my final interview yesterday for the position I've been hoping for. It's a good company, the pay is reasonable, I'd get a car, and *MOST IMPORTANT* it's a day job. That means no more evenings/weekends/holidays like I've always done. Le sigh. How freaking cool would that be? I have a nanny lined up for summer already, as well as an aunt who will take the kids while I'm away training. (Two two-week sessions in other parts of the country.) So I'm all planned out. If I get the job. If I get it. I try not to be too optimistic, because it seems the more I want something, the less likely I am to have it. I don't want to jinx things. Anyway, if I don't get my hopes up, the disappointment doesn't hurt as badly.
*That last statement is a lie. It hurts just the same.*
So I'm praying. And praying. And praying. And wishing every time the numbers on the clock are the same (you can wish more often than 11:11- 5:55 is my best wishing time), every time I lose an eyelash, every time I sneeze three times in a row. Because that's all I can do. That, and wait and see.
Listening to: Elliott Smith on shuffle. Maybe not my best choice for mood uplifting music, but it's raining and so what.