November 16, 2000
Wrong Side of the Trine


My horoscope says I'm not going to get the Groovy New Job.

"You are on the wrong side of the trine," it says. [Darn those pesky trines! How come I always end up on the wrong side of them, anyway?] "Something that should have gone to you goes to someone else. Be a good sport." Salami!


My gut, on the other hand, tells me that I probably WILL get the job. The interview went that well yesterday.

We'll see.

My conscience tells me that even if I DO get the job  --  which apparently would start more or less immediately  --  it would be a bad bad evil mean terrible rotten unprofessional unkind thing to do,  leaving Franz and the Human Resources Director Person and everybody else at the Totem Pole Company with only 2-3 days' notice, instead of the two weeks' notice I was planning on.

(My conscience is short on memory and long on stoopidity, basically. Let's all kick my conscience, OK? Let's kick it hard.)

But you know what? I'm not going to worry about any of this job-hunting stuff today. They're not making a decision until Friday, anyway. In fact, I'm not even going to think about job-hunting stuff today, if I can possibly help it ...

... because Jaymi is here!


It's amazing the way my heart still lifts, whenever I see her walking out of the gate from the airplane to the terminal. I used to feel the exact same way whenever I looked out the window and saw her walking home from school. Even after almost-nineteen years, my heart still soars when I see my little girl walking towards me. With my girl!

And it's even more amazing to me how all of the noise and nonsense in my life fades into the background when she -- or any of the Tots -- are here.

Franz leaves a record-breaking twenty-one voicemail messages in my box this morning ... each one snarly and indecipherable, each one at least five minutes long, each one contradicting the message that came before?

Big deal.

*Indecision 2000* drones on and on (and on and on and on and on and on and on and on)?


I have to wait another twenty-four excruciating hours to find out whether I got the Groovy New Job or not?

Not important.

Here's what is important: Christmas shopping. And early-birthday shopping. And walking around Berkeley, looking at racks of tie-dyed T-shirts and displays of cheap silver jewelry, browsing around Amoeba Records, antagonizing cranky bumpersticker vendors. And making bruschetta. And going to see the giant cranes. And trying on shoes. And eating Chinese food in Oakland's Chinatown, and taking the perfect photo for our Christmas cards, and picking out socks for Joel, and sitting around The Castle eating salami sandwiches ...

... and enjoying a little Mom and Daughter Time.

The rest of it -- including the Groovy New Job -- can wait.

two years ago: falling ... leaves, love, repercussions

throw a rock