So. Had difficulty pushing the switchboard buttons this morning. Not because I have arthritis. Because I spilled half a cup of tea over the bloody thing on Friday. Cleaned as best I could, but can’t get in everywhere. The result? Stuck buttons. I will just unstick them every morning until the tea turns to dust, and nobody will be the wiser…
Interview’s tomorrow. Can you imagine the butterflies that’s currently nesting in my mid section? Any idea of the doubts and fears and careful hope that fills my chest cavity? So much so that breathing’s difficult at times. I do not know if the job I’m being interviewed for would be something I’m qualified to do. Do I take a chance? I have no guarantee of a permanent position where I am currently. And, even if I did, could I handle being a receptionist for the rest of my life? Is it fair towards myself to stay here? Difficult decision. At least I’m gainfully employed. I earn a living, no matter how lowly the position might be. I don’t have to look in anybody else’s eyes to pay my dues.
I know myself though. I know I will need something more. Need to keep my brain occupied. Because, when I’m bored, I do things that should not be done. Make rash decisions with a dulled mind.
I’m learning. I’m growing. I’m putting a halt to my impetuous decision making. Of course, making life even more dull than it needs to be, but at least I’m safe. Bored. But safe.
Tonight will see me doing the de-furring routine. Make sure that the nailpolish is perfect. Try something with the hair to keep it as good looking as possible until the end of the day. Make sure the outfit is pressed and ready. This is important. I feel it in my bones. This could be something I could make a life with, or I will be right back to square one. And there I don’t want to be. Even if they offer me the position, and I choose not to accept, it will be a boon to my flagging self confidence. To have the option, the choice, the ability to not accept something will go a long way in restoring some of what I’ve lost in the past 2 years after my first disasterous decision.
I hope you enjoy today’s joke – made me giggle this morning 😉
A terrific explosion occurs in a gunpowder factory,
and once all the mess has been cleared up, and
One of the few survivors is pulled up to make
a statement. “Okay Simpson,” says the investigator,
“you were near the scene, what happened?”
“Well, it’s like this. Old Charley Higgins
was in the mixing room, and I saw him take a
cigarette out of his pocket and light up.”
“He was smoking in the mixing room?” the investigator
said in stunned horror, “How long had he been
with the company?”
“About 20 years, sir”
“20 years in the company, then he goes and
strikes a match in the mixing room, I’d have thought
it would have been the last thing he’d have done.”
“It was, sir.”