How's that for a "list of things to do," eh? Took the bandage off Shwea's paw this morning, and while there's a spot that looks a little funky (and no, not the good funk), the pad isn't bleeding, and that's the main thing. I'm hoping a little air will do it good, and as Shwea is passed on out the floor beneath my desk, I don't think I have to worry about her opening it up somehow. At least until lunchtime (then all bets are off--she and Linus follow me around during lunch prep, hoping against hope that I'll drop something good, like a side o' beef).
The car must be cleaned today, for tonight I pick up Holly to go to the benefit in Gardner, and right now, my car is so full of dog hair it's like driving around in a cotton candy machine--without the spun sugar. Everyone leaves the car looking like they're wearing mohair, and that's just not right.
As for the phone interview, it's for a job that would entail a two-hour drive into the heart of darkness (aka Connecticut), and unless they're open to telecommuting, I don't stand a chance. The irony is they probably won't even consider a telecommuter for the job, even though they are consultants to an industry that regularly outsources its customer-facing departments half a world away without a thought. "Sure, we trust the people in India to do the right thing by our customers in Iowa, but you ink-stained wretches writing reports that nobody reads, we need to keep a close watch on you!" Ah, corporate America.
This afternoon, I get another freelance assignment from the company that was thinking of hiring me, but is now interviewing other candidates. Was it something I said? Did they "Google" me? There are a few not-terribly-flattering stories about me floating around on the Web that refuse to go away. They're from the end of my days as an embattled co-editor of a publication for the lesbian community, and they could make me look a little surly. (The publication didn't exactly go well, and I didn't exactly take it well, shall we say.) Worse, one hack decided to make it worse than it was in his treatment of our sad story, saying my co-editor was my life partner (no, he didn't fact check) and then after a few more mistaken interpretations chalked the whole thing up to the bitterness of dinosaur dykes (yeah, gotta love those gay boys who embrace their inner misogynist, don't you?). Ah, I'm getting agitated. Must stop writing about this now.
Lest you think this list too dreary, the day is topped off with The Comedy, and that makes all things if not bright and beautiful, at least a lot more bearable. I'm a little nervous about how the Elks will respond to my, shall we say, diverse brand of comedy, but yesterday I listened to my last Elks Club show, and it went pretty well. And those Elks were in Connecticut, which I think is a lot more tightly wound land than Massachusetts. We shall see.
As to The Comedy, my comedy buddy Jennifer summed up the beauty of the comedy buddy relationship here--if you're a comic or a fan of The Comedy, it's a must-read.
Oh, and I almost forgot--I also get to go to the famous Wagon Wheel restaurant tonight, which I have heard so many wonderful things about (specifically: great burgers and sweet potato fries). A more heavenly combination is hard to comprehend.
This is a day for the record books, people.
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