Thursday, August 16, 2007

the hardest part

I'm about at the place where I get so jazzed about something that I shut down for awhile. Already I've slept until after 8:00 (I usually stick to my school-year schedule and get out of bed by 6am; don't hate), and although I've put our comforter in the wash (small syrup spill from breakfast in bed, provided by kind-hearted son who probably thinks I'm having some sort of breakdown) and set the dishwasher to start later (giving myself 2 hours to get showered lest I be frozen alive because our late 20th century house is somehow not plumbed to allow hot water to run in more than one room), I'm starting to stagnate.

I've settled the outfit dilemma (thanks to my faithful readers who care; don't feel guilty if you're not one of them, I'm sure you're really busy, no time to cast a simple vote that might help me make a decision at a particularly stressful time; it's no big deal), I've made friends with my skin again, am managing my cold (daytime Nyquil and lots of tissue), put the tickets in my 'going out' purse, and have stopped listening to FoW to avoid overkill. Now I'm in a waiting place.

I'm waiting, however, not just for the time when I get dressed and drop the kids off with their grandpa, but for a phone call from the principal at the alternative HS where I taught last spring. Remember how I mentioned that after putting away all of my classroom stuff, I would be offered a job? Yeah, that. Look at me trying to be all nonchalant. So I'm in the bind of needing to shower before the dishwasher starts (and, obviously, before getting ready to go out), but not wanting to miss the call. I suppose I'm reduced to having the cordless in the bathroom with the ringer set to HIGH; how many people get to interview naked? Besides porn stars. (Is my rating up to R yet??)

How about a little hold music?