Okay so I still don’t have a job. I am still having interviews and getting better at interviews and getting CLOSE to getting a job. I had a recent round of interviews at a company that told me I was fascinating and delightful, but not right for the position. Which was disappointing. One can, after all, learn job-required skills. Being delightful is something you are born with.
In any case, I am not feeling delightful, but am feeling somewhat hopeful after an interview that I had yesterday for a JOB I WANT SO BADLY.
Arun hasn’t had much more luck than I have, so we are both on unemployment. I said to him yesterday, what if neither of us ever get jobs ever again. And all his solutions were really not that helpful or delightful.
I took the kids skiing over the weekend and that was mostly enjoyable, save for one run when Ivy surveyed the too steep slope of the intermediate run we mistakenly took her on, promptly sat on her ass and said “I’m not doing this.” Two hours of her sliding down sideways, while trying to avoid snowboarders and we barely made it to the very last ski lift run of the day. By then it was snowing hard and the only place the lift could take us (in order to get us down) was an intermediate run aptly named “Escape”. Sometimes you have to put the fear of God in your children in order to give them a sense of urgency. So I told her that we had to go down the mountain and that this was a hard run but also the only way down. I added that the alternative would be to sleep in a snow cave and possibly freeze to death or be eaten by bears. Ivy likes to imagine disaster, so I knew it would work. She nodded, made a swipe at her goggles to clear them, and down she went.
In other news, this morning some kid pointed and laughed at Clyde’s sweatshirt: “That’s a pink sweatshirt! You’re wearing pink! You’re a girl!!” and I went up to the kid all flustered and said something like, “We don’t do that in Northern California! We’re all tolerant and kind and accepting. Plus, it’s not pink it’s light red!” When what I wanted to do was kick him in the nuts. But I can’t, because the kid is 7 and as you know, I am delightful.