December 7, 1998

Working on it ... sorta. Coming off a busy and engaging weekend -- followed by an amazing six hours of sleep last night -- and all eleven of my *brain molecules* are not yet wanting to cooperate this particular Monday morning. It's going to take a dose of MJB, an obscenely hot shower and some cranky Mr. Costello to fully push myselves into *the program* here. In the meantime, click here to read all about the fabulous move to California ... and then check back later.

Later That Day:

Whoa. I guess the MJB did the trick.

I've been sitting here at the computer for   --  I thought  --  the last hour or so, researching Bay Area employment opportunities on the Internet ... until I looked at the clock just now, and realized that I've actually been at it for four and a half hours. All of a sudden it's afternoon, and my coffee has gone ice-cold, and my butt feels permanently welded to the chair, and I'm still wearing the same clothes I threw on after my shower this morning ...

... but I'm happy. I feel like I've gotten a lot of stuff accomplished. I found some great Help Wanted websites, formatted a text-only version of my fabulous resume for the Internet, submitted a handful of inquiries to local companies ...

... took a teeny-tiny *detour* through The Cheesy Poets Society" website (who can resist badly-written poetry about angst and hamsters??) ...

... took another teeny-tiny *detour,* this time for lunch (half a chicken sandwich, three green olives, a couple of pepperoncini and a handful of stale Fritos, washed down with my usual cranberry juice) ...

... and then topped off my day's output by throwing the fabulous new resume into seven separate national jobsearch databases. (Imagine. Sitting here listening to "Saturday Morning Cartoons' Greatest Hits," eating a pepperoncini pepper and applying for a job, all at the same time. This is truly Job-Hunting in the Nineties, folks.)

I'll be going north to TicTac to spend Christmas with the Tots for a week or so, later in the month, so the fact is that I probably won't be working fulltime until after the holidays anyway.  But it can't hurt to start looking now. As rare and lovely and comfy as it is, being a *lady of leisure* for a little while  ...  settling into the new place with David ... spending time together ... figuring out where the hell the LIGHT SWITCHES are ... finding room for tampons and fingernail polish remover next to the Desenex and Old Spice Deodorant in the medicine cabinet   ...   I'm still itchy to get back to work. For one thing: I don't want to lose my edge. My brain gets all soft and squishy when I'm subjected to too much sleep and too many bad daytime TV talk shows. 

Donny and Marie: "Welcome back, Secra! Want our new CHEESE BALL RECIPE?"

For another thing: I'm anxious to hold up my end of things around here, financially.

For another-another thing: I bought two new pairs of "office shoes," just before I left Oregon City, and I haven't had a chance to wear them yet. (So there ya go. I simply MUST find a job right away, before they go out of style.)

Things are going spectacularly well here in The Castle, btw. We are absurdly happy ... living in that rarified, everything-is-brand-new-and-wonderful, Thoroughly Nauseating To The Casual Onlooker *Cocoon Phase* that people go through when they first move in together. Friday night watching "Casablanca" and eating cheap Chinese food in bed. Saturday morning shopping for my daughter's birthday present at the mall, grabbing a walnut and raisin bagel along the way. Sunday morning, doing laundry together. Sunday afternoon at the library, checking out books on history and writing and Elvis, then stopping at the produce stand to buy vegetables and bread for the stew. Sunday night listening to Brian Eno and reading, side by side.

And through it all ... the background music of our relationship ... conversation. Non-stop wordswordswords. Two people who have everything in the world to say, and have finally found their perfect audience.

It couldn't possibly be any better than this.



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