La Alaskena

Remember when I said I was going to look for a new job? Well, I did, and it was absolutely disheartening. Oh, how I hate looking for work! I sent out hundreds of resumes and made many fruitless phone calls. It was demoralizing because I am eminently employable. Or maybe not, since it’s cheaper to hire a 17-year-old who doesn’t require say, a living wage and benefits.

It took months to get even an interview, and at my first job interview in almost two years,  I was grilled by a committee on my religious beliefs. Isn’t that illegal? At any rate, it was painfully awkward. I think I looked like this:

I didn’t get the job.

I went on several more interviews, which are never fun, until I had an interview that was wonderful. I was thrilled. It seemed like a perfect fit. Everybody was so nice and friendly.

I didn’t get the job.

So I applied again. Tenacity, right? I went on another interview, and again, it was great and everybody was very kind and friendly and it seemed like a perfect fit. And guess what?

I GOT THE JOB!

When I found out, I did a little happy dance, and Kurt told me to stop because I might hurt myself.

This job represents a lot of things for me, like having health insurance and the ability to pay my bills, but mostly it means that I’ll be going from a retail pharmacy to a hospital pharmacy, and I have a feeling that I’ll be much happier there. And if I’m not, at least it will be something new and different.

But aside from the whole quality of life aspect, I’ll have more money! You know, to pay my bills and stuff. My rent and that parking ticket I got in January. (In my defense, is it really fair to give somebody a parking ticket when they are parked legally in front of their own house? I think not.)

Let’s be honest: mostly I’ve been fantasizing about all the lovely new things I’ll be able to buy. Like this purse:

I’ve been visiting it at Nordstrom. I caress it gently, and whisper, “Don’t worry baby. Mama will take you home soon.”

What should I name it? I think I should name it so that instead of saying “Where’s my purse?” I can say “Where’s Lucille?” And then maybe I can feel justified in talking to it and tucking it in at night.