*insert catchy title here*

i have a job interview on saturday morning. i know, who in his or her right mind goes to a job interview on saturday morning? well, i think we can all atest to my being a little, well, um, quirky. so saturday it is. momma bought me a new blue twinset and some black pants, so i can look like the professional i know is lurking deep inside me, somewhere. i feel like there is a lot riding on this interview. probably because there IS a lot riding on this interview. not like my whole existance as a human being, or anything like that...but i really think i want this job. i think i could do the job, and do it well, and feel like i was doing something worth while, and not just muddling along. we can hope. hope is a good thing, dangerous, but good.

i can't believe i'm almost 28. that's so bizarre to me, on many levels, not the least of which is that it seems SO OLD and SO YOUNG, at the same time. when did my life turn into a lesson in dichotomy? or is that one of those lessons we all learn as we get older? i'm rambling, again, i know...

i know that if this job doesn't pan out, others will. i know that i'm going to be ok, regardless. i know that. that doesn't make me not want to stomp my foot and demand that this thing go my way, though. so much for maturity...it's so over-rated. but i keep having visions of what this time next year might be like, and they are pretty nice. i'll spare you the details, and just fill you in later.

at least i interview well. i've even got a medal or two from high school to prove that fact. i can probably dig them out of my trunk and show you, if you don't believe me. a gold one, even. i'm that good. i just have to remember not to fidget, and hope that i don't get the giggles or slip and say something totally off color, which i will think is funny, but falls flat on the room. and i have to remember to be honest, but not spill my guts about what i really think about things. and not fidget. that's the worst. that means that i won't be allowed to wear jewlery below the neck, and should avoid painting my nails, because that will just give me something to pick at. and if they offer me coffee, not to shred the napkin into tiny little pieces. i would be a horrible poker player. i have no game. i secretly just want them to like me and think i am a genius and hire me on the spot. two out of three wouldn't be bad...

so, here's to hope. keep you fingers crossed. we need a homerun, gang.

mil besos--rmg