Workin' the Pathetic OR Sorry Anne Z, I'm really OK

I took out my contact lenses on Friday. For those of you who do not share a bedroom with me, this is a major life event.

I am laughably near-sighted. I have a hard time identifying my own children, without the lenses in, or at least my back-up glasses. And I hate my back-up glasses. So I tend to wear the lenses until my eyes spontaneously reject them. Then, I leave them out until my eyes stop stinging, or I can't stand it anymore, whichever comes first.

This means that when I do take them out, my eyeballs are in shock. They can't believe I expect them to go back to their original shape. It hurts. I become rather photophobic. And for the next week or so I tear up without warning, even when there is no accompanying pain.

I'm kinda used to it. Damp rag over the eyes in bed at night, kleenex at my elbow during the day, don't even bother with mascara.

All that is background.

Saturday I went to the library to pick up the last few episodes of Mad Men Season 2 (Hubby and I are HOOKED). Walking across the parking lot, I saw a woman I don't know all that well, but we like each other. Nice chick. We stopped in the parking lot for a few minutes to catch up.

As I was telling her that yes, all 4 boys are in school these days and yes, I have been looking for full-time work since May and no, I have not gotten anything remotely like a job offer and yes it is crappy what is going on with the economy at large, my right eyeball started its traditional leaking.

So, you know, I'm having this fairly serious conversation, with someone I haven't seen in months, and I am focused on that. Not so much on the sheet of tears rolling down my face. Because, you know, it's just what happens when I take my lenses out. And then I looked up and Anne was giving me The Look.

You know the one.

The look that says, "You're so brave, speaking so calmly when clearly you are heartbroken by your fruitless job search."

But of course at that point you can't say, "Oh, I'm not CRYING. I'm OK." because EVERYONE says that. It is as good as saying, "I am on the verge of suicide!"

So, I just ignored it, got my DVDs and went home.

Now, though, I feel kinda bad. What if Anne is worried for me?

All you local bloggy people, you know who she is. If you see her, please tell her I am fine. Still job hunting, but fine.

And by the way I wrote this entire blog post with tears, and a smile, on my face. I cannot WAIT to put those lenses back in.

My "best" career match

I've been searching for FT work since May. No dice. But most days I dive back into it for at least a couple hours, and most of the time I can keep a fairly upbeat attitude about the whole thing.

Today I got an email from one of the job search sites I frequent. They give me "best job matches" to pursue.

Today's best job for me? Manager of Sales, for some outfit in Boulder, Colorado.

So I guess I just need to hop on that plane today, huh?

That, or breathe into a paper bag.

"What's the big deal about a speech?"

The big deal is, it is not just a speech. It is a movement by the people entrusted to educate our children...to indoctrinate them, instead.

Ask, and it shall be given to you

"I need to think of something to blog about. I haven't written shit, lately."

Yes, that is what I said, day before yesterday, to Knot.

I swear to God, I knew, when this arrived in the mail, that my bloggy prayers were answered. America, you have lost your minds. Know how I know?



Pardon the lousy picture. It is an advertisement that arrived with some coupons. It explains the Cottonelle Ultra 3 Steps to Luxury.

Step 1: Dry---that would be toilet paper, familiar to all you westerners.
Step 2: Flushable Moist Wipes
Step 3: Dry AGAIN. Because apparently those wipes are SO moist, you need to revisit.

I'm sorry. I appreciate the value of a clean and non-stank rear end as much as the next person. But this is ridiculous.

"Did you see any celebrities in DC?"

No, but I saw a lot of Americans.

George Orwell Saw It Coming, #672

On September 8, President Obama is going to speak to all public school students in the nation.

For those of you from Across the Pond, we've never had a President do this before. And for those of you who haven't read 1984, well, go get a copy.

Yeah, part of me is thinking, "Go get a copy before they wise up and ban it."

Update--I have since read that in 1991, GHWBush did address the nation's schoolchildren.

OK, so sue me: I had no kids at the time, was not in the school system myself, and I was also living overseas. But I stand by my general creeped-out-ness. Not really sold on the President asking my kids what they'll do to help him.

So, What Do You Do, With All That Extra Time?

That is, apparently, the phrase that pays, this week. Because all 4 kids are in school, all day, for the first time ever.

I have stopped freaking out about it, which is good. Sons #3 and 4 have classes they like and classes they don't and #4 has even befriended someone he described as "the only girl in the entire building who does not curse." Clearly, she is a saint among middle-schoolers. Son #3 has already decided he wants to take German classes over the summer, so he does not lose what he's learning. Initiative, man, he's got it.

Son #2 is settled in, I think, although he tends to brush off most inquiries.

And Son #1 has collected 7 girls' phone numbers, so far. I remind him, on occasion, that he also has some school work he should fit in, while he's there. And he says he'll get to that. Probably. At some point.

As for me? I am carving out a schedule of sorts. Mainly that means I am taking care of stuff around here and searching for work, sending out my resume and making plans to do some more serious writing at some point. I've also managed to go out to lunch with Hubby twice (he is cramming in the Thai food) and get back into yoga, a little, because I need something to counterbalance the cycling class.

And after about 2:30, I am helping w/homework, printing stuff out, and signing rafts of pointless paperwork for the school, while making dinner and absorbing Teen Drama.

Don't get me wrong, I am grateful for the Teen Drama. It is good to have a front row seat on our Sons growing up into strong, young men.

Today, I am pinned to the house until Fedex arrives. Which probably means I'll get a lot done around here.

And yes, for those who are wondering, yesterday I did find myself scrubbing the fireplace grout with a toothbrush. I think I am safe to work on non-houseworky things, huh? My God. I could really obsess.