October 17, 2001


I took the job, of course.

I didn't wait until 9 a.m. to make the call, either: I picked up the phone as soon as David left for work this morning, while the caffeine was still percolating through my bloodstream and my brain was still boiling over with *Oh-Whut-The-Hell (It Beats Working At Round Table) Molecules.*

"Thank you very much for the opportunity," I said when I called. "I've decided to accept the position."

My boss-to-be let out an audible sigh of relief. "Oh god," she said. "You have no idea how gladI am." She's been answering the phones and sorting the mail (and taking care of all of the other admin stuff that *I* will be doing) for the past few weeks, ever since her previous assistant left the company, and it's clear that she's looking forward to turning over the reins -- and the switchboard -- to someone else.

"I think this is going to be a terrific working relationship," I said to her. And I meant it, too. We already seem to have a comfortable, mutually respectful vibe going on between us. (Plus JoAnne and I actually sort of knew each other already, even before I came in to interview. Her husband Karl used to be Franz' right-hand man at The Totem Pole Company, before leaving to start his own consulting firm. I used to chat with JoAnne on the phone every once in a while, whenever she called in to talk to her husband.) We agreed that I would sign and fax the acceptance letter to her this morning, so she can begin processing my paperwork and ordering my business cards and doing all of the other new employee stuff that needs to be done between now and my start date.

And with that, my period of Temporary Voluntary Unemployment officially ends.

I still have a few days off before I start the new job. Seven days, as a matter of fact. One full week to shop for uncomfortable shoes and lollygag on the Internet, to finish organizing the kitchen cupboards and stockpiling future *FootNotes* entries ... which is pretty much what I've BEEN doing all along, of course, ever since I left The Totem Pole Company ... except that now I can relax and kick back and enjoy it, without that stoopid little voice nagging at me (Shouldn't you be reading The Monster Board instead of The Onion? ), twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week.

And without having to worry about how I'm going to pay for those new shoes.

throw a rock