Unexpected

[copied from dland]

R GOT THE JOB!

The reason it's so unexpected is that she originally interviewed for the damn thing before Halloween, and they said they'd get back to her after Thanksgiving, and then they said they were still in the searching process, so who expected them to call her today and offer it to her? But they did. We are jubilant. This is a REAL. JOB. With commuting into the city by train, and getting benefits and sick days and everything. This is creative and educational and for a good cause and all kinds of things that I can't even go into. It's working in a big building that houses many fine organizations and, god willing, a lovely young man who will recognize her many gifts in the elevator that first day, and also have a friend for her sister.

So yes, I'm being unrealistic on that last one, but otherwise, it's one down, one to go, and maybe someday I can retire after all. That part is not unrealistic. This is an organization known for, among other things, keeping their employees long term. So if the job's a good fit for her, it's a career, with advancement opportunities and everything.

When I got home from school and K got home from work, we were so excited that we hugged each other because R doesn't live here anymore and wasn't around.

Ahem. Back to my actual life.

I finally got a phone at work today, and was amused and delighted to see that my new number is actually only one digit off from the number I'd had in the library for the last 30 years. (They put in a completely new phone system, so there's no direct dial like we had before, but my extension number is one digit off from the last four digits of the old number.) I called R first thing to tell her my new number, as she'd asked me to do, and I left it on a message, and then got the wonderful call back from her with her news. (So I'm back to that again. Give me a minute here.)

I actually went to the gym, and not directly home, after school, where I met with the manager/head trainer, whom I really like very, very much. We worked out a plan for next week so I can get back to work there, easing into it. I'm taking a Gentle Yoga class, and she told me what to tell the instructor when I go back to regular yoga, which I'll have to do the next week due to the schedule. And more gym stuff, which I think I talked about yesterday, all on track. The only thing was, I made my massage appointment for the same time I'd made my Apple Store appointment, so I had to change that when I got home.

I also went to the orthopedist just before, last time (on this injury, anyway), and I'm all good to go. I asked him a whole list of questions -- oh god, is my mother here? Who said that? -- and I can do whatever I want, and not wear a brace, and I'm all done with him. So, good.

There must be something to this going out and doing stuff after school, cause this is the first day this week I'm still clear in the head this late in the day. I finally sat down and paid some bills (and threw out the post-it that's been there all week), which I didn't feel smart enough to do yesterday. (Bitter experience has taught me not to touch a checkbook unless I'm feeling particularly bright.)

What else can I tell you? I'm still listening to the giant show tunes mix on the iPod, which I'm shuffling by album and not song so I don't completely addle my brain. I'm up to Camelot, having just listened to The Sound of Music -- slightly more serious than I'd remembered -- and a few songs from Gigi, which I also adore. Did I tell you that the music director at school said a few weeks ago that he'd do a Rogers and Hammerstein for me before I retire? He never will, of course, because a) there are no Nazis in any of their plays except The Sound of Music, and he would die first, and, b) there are no opportunities to dress high school girls in scanty costumes. Last year, Cabaret, which is typical for him. He likes his shows dark, edgy, and depressing. And sexy. This, while extremely weird and inappropriate for a high school, is not indicative of him having a thing for kids, which he totally doesn't, but more with he himself being a whore for ticket sales, and he figures that the sexy outfits bring in the public. He puts on unbelievably successful and professional musicals each year, but I haven't gone in a long time because I hate the shows he does. I'm negotiating for Oklahoma, but he doesn't think he can come up with kids to do that choreography. I offered Carousel, pretty dark, but he doesn't have a boy who can bulk up enough to play Billy. I don't think he likes South Pacific, despite the sex, and anyway, there's no kid who can pull off that operatic voice. I'm starting to think Camelot, although it's Lerner and Lowe, but it's funny and clever, and it's a classic story that all the kids have to read sooner or later, and even Richard Burton didn't sing, really. Of course, he was Richard Burton, but I guess he'd have to work around that.

I was just about to post when Eldest Nephew called from California. Had a very pleasant conversation, and I don't believe he even asked me for anything, which is generally his M.O. (He's quite the eccentric, and only recently self-supporting, but the only time I actually sent him money was when his dog needed surgery and I knew he couldn't pull it off himself. Also, he's a goof but not a liar, so I had no reason not to believe him. And remember, his dog talks, so who'd want to risk losing something like that in the world?) Anyway, had a nice little talk with him about his new attempt to finish his master's thesis -- finally -- with a new topic that sounds intriguing. And he sounds excited about it, so maybe he'll really get it this time. Oy, I sound so cynical. Lest I forget how much I love him and always have, here we are once again, circa 1977:

Good night, Gracie.


WATCHING no idea :: ENTRY #1327