A visitor.

We had a visitor tonight. On our back balcony. Merrily climbing along the long beam up under the eaves by winding back and forth between the short beams as if barrel racing. We've seen some pretty exotic wildlife while living in this apartment, but this was by far the most exotic.

Out of thin air . . .

And, in the realm of surprises, I just acquired another interview from someone finding my resume on a job board. Tomorrow.

I revert to my previous hypothesis.

The gods must have something very special in mind for me. This is not my chaos zone. It's far too well-planned.

I got edged out of the job by somebody who had three years' experience working in a similar environment.

And they wonder why Americans feel like a recession is around the corner.

On the plus side, I have another interview scheduled for Monday morning. Good stability and benefits, and I think it's still the ASRS. And potentially pays better than the one I just got edged out of.

I'm just feeling very, very tired.

mood swing

I had such a good weekend. It was the parents, sister and her boyfriend, me and RogueHistorian, and another friend for Thanksgiving. Ate too much, walked around the Desert Museum, tortured RH by testing tuxedo components on him, bought slippers to replace the one my cats absconded with, and had a jam session/sing-along. Even thought of a Christmas present for my dad, one of the notoriously hard-to-buy-for people on my Christmas list, if my mom can just keep him from buying it himself between now and then.

And then, on the way home tonight, a gas pump failed to take my credit card. The credit card company says the pump couldn't read the card, and because of this, they began denying transactions on the account. WTF? Straightened that out (at last for now), and now I find I'm brooding over tomorrow. I can't even imagine how nuts work will be after four days of tech support stuff building up. But more than that, I'm supposed to hear something back on the promising job tomorrow.

Unlike the last one, I find I'm very invested in getting this opportunity. I try not to get this way about positions, but the interview was so positive, and there are actually two slots open. If I don't manage to get one of them, I know it's going to just about bottom out my self-esteem. And there's nothing I can do about it but wait and try not to think about it, since thinking just prompts brooding and worrying.

Wish me luck.

Ain't that the truth.

http://noreasoncomics.com/blog/2007-10-26-internet-wizardry/

Health

Of the core trio of IT where I work right now, one of us suffers from headaches and high blood pressure, one from migraines and general nerves, and today one had chest pain and tingling in the fingers of his left hand while driving into the office. None of us had any of these symptoms before the big change about three months ago. If you follow this thought to a fairly logical conclusion, you'll note that we are now courting stroke, complete nervous collapse, and heart attack, respectively.

If the stress level doesn't change, and one of us lands themself on twelve weeks' medical leave, I've got this nasty feeling we're all going to go down like dominoes.

On the one hand, I'm glad I don't plan to be around to see it. On the other, my future absence may begin this particular domino rally. Yikes.

The new face of Ebil.*

I have now seen the new Toyota Scion xB. It no longer looks like a toaster on wheels.

My first thought was: It looks like a baby hearse.

Then I decided maybe too much of that judgment was based on the fact that this particular car was black. I tried to screen out the color in my mind and just look at the build.

It looks like the offspring of a hearse and a Mini Cooper.



* Inside joke, sorry.

Quote of the Week

"After one look at this planet any visitor from outer space would say 'I want to see the manager.'"

--William S. Burroughs

(Stole this one from my brother's Quote of the Day list. What can I say, it just seemed too apt after the last couple weeks.

the gods must have something really special in mind for me

They keep making me wait.

HR from Monday's interview called back to tell me they want me . . . but the very afternoon they decided this, my potential boss's boss walked in and told them that finances aren't what they expected and they can't hire the position till January. I said that I remained interested, but how patient I was with my current position varied on a day to day basis. I said I would call them if somebody else made me an offer I couldn't refuse, sooner. They said that under the circumstances, that seemed perfectly reasonable.

I confess, this does drive home some of my existing worries about small companies.

This makes one really good prospect that decided to hire a different position and one that has to wait until the next budget year. Third time's a charm? And what will the third time be?

On the plus side, something interesting that pays a little less (but that may be changing) e-mailed me that they'd like to interview me. We're just arranging a time.

Grabbers

A good story should really grab you. My favorite opening line is:

"Remember, no matter what your gravity is when you go through the door, the enemy's gate is down." --Orson Scott Card, from the original Ender's Game short

My mother's favorite is: "Duck!" --Robert Heinlein. Sorry, I don't know which story.

But as much as we like to harp on first lines, being writers, it goes deeper than that. I read a book last week, Charles Stross's Glasshouse, that had me so emotionally involved that the protagonist's nerves were making me nervy. On one particularly bad night, I was up reading until three in the morning, because somehow I just couldn't put the book down until I knew that Reeve was out of immediate danger. There aren't a great many books that grab me that hard.

Even rarer, on just two occasions, I've been so deeply ensconced in a book that I've looked up and actually been surprised to be where I am. Because I wasn't there. I was off executing flying kicks in the middle of a revolution or plotting against the artists' council. Grabbed. Hook, line, and sinker.

The movin' on blues . . .

So, no more panic attacks.

No, now I get migraines.

These, too, are work-related.

At least, when I leave, I can say it was for my health.

Rules

Have you ever worked someplace there was a rule that you couldn't park next to somebody's car? I don't mean somebody-anybody. I mean a specific somebody. Can't park in the space next to their car.

In your average mid-sized business, is it considered normal that IT cannot make any rules concerning IT and data security that the company's managing team doesn't approve?

I find it really ironic when I get to contribute to the formulation of sane and sensible rules that will be applied to everyone but me. It wouldn't be nearly so ironic if no rules applied, but when the alternative ruleset is actually draconion, I think irony is an appropriate description. And yet, none of this would be quite so ironic as when someone with three letters next to their name thinks they've hosed their computer through an action they have specifically forbidden to one or more of the peons in IT.

It's a funny ol' world, isn't it?

Quote of the Week

"Because nothing says 'I love you' like a naked flying baby with an anvil."

--RougeHistorian

Another week bites the dust.

We did a test-run with mail-ordered flowers on Saturday, to see if we're talented enough to do the wedding flowers ourselves. The roses were great. The mini cala lilies were also great, but unfortunately purple. (Purple is not usually unfortunate, but when you're wearing a light-gold dress, you get a truly unfortunate easter egg effect). I seem to be talented enough to handle the bridesmaids bouquets, but kenilyn was really able to make a bride's bouquet come together in a way I wasn't. Everyone else can do corsages and table arrangements. I ended up ordering 200 roses--100 peach, 25 burgandy, 25 cream, and 25 each in two different bi-colors. Somewhere in the mix, we ought to be able to make great bouquets.

Interview Monday evening, and another hopefully in the offing. I was approached by someplace I'd sent an application for a different position saying they have something coming up that's right up my alley. When I asked if I should just keep an eye out for the posting, they said they'd e-mail me when it posted. That sounds hopeful.

In other news, I seem to have strained my right foot fighting with the bedclothes. I'd take this as a measure of my native talent, but a physical therapist told me some years ago that I'd be surprised how many people injure themselves by getting a foot caught in the bedclothes: the foot doesn't move, and the leg (to the ankle or knee, usually) does. Bad combination, that. Myself, I don't think I've actually sprained anything (thank the gods)--it doesn't hurt enough. I guess if it's better in two weeks or so, I'll know for sure.

I found a few wedding invitations I actually like. They're all more than I wanted to pay, but at a certainly point it's either spend the money for something I like or decide to go really cheap (since nothing in the middle range is really right). At that, it's still considered a small amount for wedding invitations. We just have a small budget to go with it. We're going to do much simpler, print-it-yourself cards for responses and maps and whatever.

There's an anthology open to submissions that I think I have the perfect story for, if only I had time to sit down and write it. But between job hunting, wedding planning, and the usual rest-of-my-life, I'm just not sure where I'm going to find the time.

And I miss RogueHistorian. We try to see each other every other week. It's going to be three weeks this time. Three weeks is just too much. We've determined this on previous occasions. But sometimes, there's just nothing we can do to work it out. I so much want it to be May, so I can have him full-time.