Meters swum today: Zero. Logged nearly a hundred miles driving Mom between DFW and Love Field, though.
Playing in the background: The last ten minutes of "The Simpsons"
Well, you didn't ask but I'll tell you. Firstly, I'm traveling back and forth in time. I could have sworn I was about to start Week Four of the great unemployment adventure, but according to the TWC, it's only Week Two. Why? Well, because the severance package is considered "salary in lieu of notice", which means I'm ineligible for unemployment those two weeks. Which means last week was Week One and this week is Week Two. I wish somebody had told me that before the mortgage payment was due. Taking money out of savings makes Joan nervous. Actually, it makes me nervous too, but as a Scandinavian female, it is my job to Make Everything Perfect For Everyone Forever, or at least to make everything Fine (which is as close as Scandiavians ever get to perfect, and a lauded state in its own right).
Seriously, though, I had an interview in Fort Worth (or, as I frequently misspell it, Fort Wroth. Did you know the first telegraph message ever sent was What Hath Fort Wroth? Unless of course there was an error in the transcription.) I think I'd really like the work and do a fine job for these guys, so my fingers are crossed (which makes it kind of hard to type). Yeah, it's in Fort Worth and I live in Dallas, but that's nothing a bunch of hydrocarbons can't cure. I'fact the guys are relocating their office downtown, which means I can take the train. I've always liked taking trains. When I worked for the Feds I took the same train and got an amazing amount of writing done. Something about being parked on a moving vehicle gets the old ink flowing, unless the vehicle in question is an airplane. I don't think it's possible to do anything creative on an airplane, besides of course finding new ways to annoy your fellow passengers (and please don't, there's already lots of tried and true methods, and just incidentally, playing the bagpipes at thirty-five thousand feet is kind of like trying to run a marathon while breathing through a straw, and yes, I speak as one who knows.) If that happens we will probably move, or at least give moving some serious thought. Not all the way to FW (which isn't really that far, about 42.8 miles according to my odometer) but maybe to Oak Cliff or Cedar Hill. Anything on the other side of downtown Dallas would make the drive easier, and in South Dallas there's the DART train that runs downtown every fifteen minutes or so for those of us in the household, all one of her, that work thereabouts. Which, you have to admit, is pretty cool.
Though we often refer to this whole four-county area as "the metroplex" or "the DFW area," different parts of it are really different cultures. My little part of town is Far East Dallas, a heavily Hispanic and industrial area that's practically part of Garland. It's completely different than Old East Dallas, which is a weird mishmash of really nice houses and, uh, slums (often right across the street from each other). Then you have East Dallas, which is different than West Dallas, which doesn't hold a candle to South Dallas or North Dallas. And in case you're getting tired of seeing the word Dallas, we also have Plano (middle America), Frisco (middle America with a much higher per capita income than Plano), Arlington, Grand Prairie and, of course, Fort Worth.
Fort Worth is a little smaller than Dallas and has kind of an older feel. There are tall buildings, like in Dallas, but there are also a lot of 1920s era ten-story jobs, cobbled streets, art museums and, well, it's just homier somehow. It also seems more laid-back and (I hate to use this expression because it's so overused and misused it's practically meaningless, but anyway) family-friendly. It's also home to TCU (go Frogs!), which is almost across the street from this law firm's new digs. So anyway, it would be great if I got the job. It would be even better if I got it this week, before I have to attend TWC's "Job Seeker Orientation" and hear once again why one should not wear shorts to an interview or send lewd text messages with your cell phone from the office of the hiring manager.
Namo amitabha Buddhaya, y'all.
This here's a religious establishment. Act respectable.
This here's a religious establishment. Act respectable.
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2 comments:
LMAO. Why don't you become a lesbian Erma Bombeck and give up job search? I couldn't actually figure out the answer to how's the job search going? Care to email an answer that doesn't rattle?
Hee hee! It's going okay. Update to follow...
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