So, I may have had a crazy day that began with:
"You need to step up your phone skills" (via swanky temp job that sort of intimidates me)
and ended with:
"I don't want to do my homework or eat dinner or do anything you say" (via babysitting)
And 10 hours later I was home.
Wheww.
My Mom keeps telling me that I remind her of the theme from Mary Tyler Moore.
And I have to agree somewhat. I may not throw my hat in Time Square or live in NY, but despite all this chaos and confusion, you know what?
I am going to make it after all.
Wednesday, September 15, 2010
Tuesday, September 14, 2010
Self Soothing Via Listing
Hello, all.
I'm currently in minor crisis mode and I really have no clue why.
Okay, I have a few ideas why.
1. I'm tired. Doesn't everything seem ten times worse when you are either tired or on your period? If both happen, god forbid, you've got yourself a situ-ation, right there.
Luckily, I'm only tired. Reason being: I'm relearning how to survive in the workplace and it dragging all of the life out of me. Apparently, I'm a light weight if I feel this way after a temp job.
2. I am tired.
3. I am tired.
4. Why did writing this post seem like a good idea at the time? I think I'll get sidetracked and peruse claw foot bathtubs again.
Loving this one:
I'm currently in minor crisis mode and I really have no clue why.
Okay, I have a few ideas why.
1. I'm tired. Doesn't everything seem ten times worse when you are either tired or on your period? If both happen, god forbid, you've got yourself a situ-ation, right there.
Luckily, I'm only tired. Reason being: I'm relearning how to survive in the workplace and it dragging all of the life out of me. Apparently, I'm a light weight if I feel this way after a temp job.
2. I am tired.
3. I am tired.
4. Why did writing this post seem like a good idea at the time? I think I'll get sidetracked and peruse claw foot bathtubs again.
Loving this one:
Monday, September 13, 2010
Playing this Game Called Waiting
Okay, so you know how I said that the star's must have aligned when I moved into my new apartment?
I'm beginning to think that they might not have aligned all the way.
Reason being this:
Tandem parking is extremely unfortunate.
For those of you who don't know what that is, I'll explain. Basically, my apartment complex (which is lovely and some would even say luxurious) only gives each residence 2 parkings spots. These parking spots happen to be lined up behind each other. Meaning a car is parked directly behind a car. Meaning, unless you are the car on the outside, you can't get out.
Meaning, I have to wait for my roommate, J, to get home so we can move cars and so that I can get to work on time in the morning.
waiting, waiting, waiting....
But while on the subject of work:
Not only is my part time temp job going well (another post for another time) but I also got an interview at TARGET!!!
AN INTERVIEW?!
Yep.
Star realignment, anyone?
I'm beginning to think that they might not have aligned all the way.
Reason being this:
Tandem parking is extremely unfortunate.
For those of you who don't know what that is, I'll explain. Basically, my apartment complex (which is lovely and some would even say luxurious) only gives each residence 2 parkings spots. These parking spots happen to be lined up behind each other. Meaning a car is parked directly behind a car. Meaning, unless you are the car on the outside, you can't get out.
Meaning, I have to wait for my roommate, J, to get home so we can move cars and so that I can get to work on time in the morning.
waiting, waiting, waiting....
But while on the subject of work:
Not only is my part time temp job going well (another post for another time) but I also got an interview at TARGET!!!
AN INTERVIEW?!
Yep.
Star realignment, anyone?
Sunday, September 12, 2010
Reviewing "Shacking Up"
So it's no secret that I love the public library.
Free books?
I'm there.
The local public library happens to be in walking distance from my apartment, so I've already been there twice this week (one more reason that leads me to think that the star's aligned when I moved here).
And whilst there, I ran across a section in the Non Fic that stopped me in my tracks.
Apparently, there is a section about cohabiting and how to do it successfully.
Hello!? I need this book!
Unlike my love for the library, my dream of cohabiting with T is somewhat more secret. We've decided that next year we will consider taking the plunge--i.e sharing a lease.
Opting for the bubblegummy cover over the boring Idiot's Guide to Cohabiting (I kid not), I decided on Shacking Up: The Smart Girl's Guide to Living in Sin Without Getting Burned.
Doesn't that just sound more fun?
Sitting in my bathtub, soaking, I began reading this book. And I liked it. NOTHING was sugar coated. The Whitman Sisters discussed the whole statistic that I've heard in ALL my college psych classes: Cohabiting couples who marry risk a 50% divorce rate. But there is more to that statistic than meets the eye. 1. It is outdated and 2. It forgets to mention that cohabiting couples who have a plan (i.e marriage in a year) can actually have extremely successful marriages with low divorce reates. It's the cohab-couples who slid into marriage as a next resort or because they feel they should that are in trouble.
My favorite chapter was entitled "Breaking the News to Friends and Family." I definitely ear marked this section so I can review it a few times before the time comes.
My only major problemo with the book? Every person that was interviewed or referenced was 29+. What about us 22 year old gals, huh? I mean come on.
More musings and mumblings on cohabs later.
Free books?
I'm there.
The local public library happens to be in walking distance from my apartment, so I've already been there twice this week (one more reason that leads me to think that the star's aligned when I moved here).
And whilst there, I ran across a section in the Non Fic that stopped me in my tracks.
Apparently, there is a section about cohabiting and how to do it successfully.
Hello!? I need this book!
Unlike my love for the library, my dream of cohabiting with T is somewhat more secret. We've decided that next year we will consider taking the plunge--i.e sharing a lease.
Opting for the bubblegummy cover over the boring Idiot's Guide to Cohabiting (I kid not), I decided on Shacking Up: The Smart Girl's Guide to Living in Sin Without Getting Burned.
Doesn't that just sound more fun?
Sitting in my bathtub, soaking, I began reading this book. And I liked it. NOTHING was sugar coated. The Whitman Sisters discussed the whole statistic that I've heard in ALL my college psych classes: Cohabiting couples who marry risk a 50% divorce rate. But there is more to that statistic than meets the eye. 1. It is outdated and 2. It forgets to mention that cohabiting couples who have a plan (i.e marriage in a year) can actually have extremely successful marriages with low divorce reates. It's the cohab-couples who slid into marriage as a next resort or because they feel they should that are in trouble.
My favorite chapter was entitled "Breaking the News to Friends and Family." I definitely ear marked this section so I can review it a few times before the time comes.
My only major problemo with the book? Every person that was interviewed or referenced was 29+. What about us 22 year old gals, huh? I mean come on.
More musings and mumblings on cohabs later.
Saturday, September 11, 2010
Blah Says the Insomniac
It's 11:21.
I took a bath. I read a book. I lit a candle. It was a soothing experience. You would think that I'd be ready for bed? I guess not.
Because, as I've made clear already, it is 11:21. And that means I should be asleep and in bed.
Potential reasons for my insomnia:
1. I drank a cup of Moroccan mint tea before bed. Caffeine? I think so. Those crazy Moroccans, mixing herbal with addictive. Did I mention this stuff is amazing?
2. I have had little social contact for the past few days. Unless you count the 9 year old I babysit or the lady at the library counter. Skyping my brother, parents, friends and boyfriend doesn't count.
Too much alone time makes Linds a restless girl.
3. I have this thing hanging over my head on Monday. I'm once again temping at this swanky investing firm. I was requested because they were "so impressed with me last time." Well, I do answer a phone and push buttons very well. I also know how to type. Ask anymore of me on Monday, and I may let you down. Okay, okay, I know. I am totally not helping myself here.
But this is who I am. I WORRY ABOUT THE UNKNOWN. Not so much WHAT IF the world will end tomorrow or WHAT IF I get mobbed in a parking lot, but more so WHAT IF they ask me to do something I don't know how to do? Or WHAT IF I do something completely and totally wrong.
I promise I've worked through some of this in therapy.
4. My lovely boyfriend (I don't mean that sarcastically), who I usually talk to before bed is out with his sister and her friends at a pub. Jealous? Not really. Thrown off? Yes.
I like routine. And talking to T is part of my bedtime routine.
5. I (was) am hungry. I am turning into my Dad. He tends to get hungry in the middle of the night. As do I now, apparently. Grape nuts for him, peanut butter and crackers for me.
I took a bath. I read a book. I lit a candle. It was a soothing experience. You would think that I'd be ready for bed? I guess not.
Because, as I've made clear already, it is 11:21. And that means I should be asleep and in bed.
Potential reasons for my insomnia:
1. I drank a cup of Moroccan mint tea before bed. Caffeine? I think so. Those crazy Moroccans, mixing herbal with addictive. Did I mention this stuff is amazing?
2. I have had little social contact for the past few days. Unless you count the 9 year old I babysit or the lady at the library counter. Skyping my brother, parents, friends and boyfriend doesn't count.
Too much alone time makes Linds a restless girl.
3. I have this thing hanging over my head on Monday. I'm once again temping at this swanky investing firm. I was requested because they were "so impressed with me last time." Well, I do answer a phone and push buttons very well. I also know how to type. Ask anymore of me on Monday, and I may let you down. Okay, okay, I know. I am totally not helping myself here.
But this is who I am. I WORRY ABOUT THE UNKNOWN. Not so much WHAT IF the world will end tomorrow or WHAT IF I get mobbed in a parking lot, but more so WHAT IF they ask me to do something I don't know how to do? Or WHAT IF I do something completely and totally wrong.
I promise I've worked through some of this in therapy.
4. My lovely boyfriend (I don't mean that sarcastically), who I usually talk to before bed is out with his sister and her friends at a pub. Jealous? Not really. Thrown off? Yes.
I like routine. And talking to T is part of my bedtime routine.
5. I (was) am hungry. I am turning into my Dad. He tends to get hungry in the middle of the night. As do I now, apparently. Grape nuts for him, peanut butter and crackers for me.
Thursday, September 9, 2010
Investing
I need work clothes.
When did I decide that it was simply okay to only own jeans and inappropiately short dresses/skirts? Apparently, I made this decision somewhere along the line because I am seriously lacking this mystical thing called a working wardrobe.
I’ve already used my interview outfit and back up interview outfit, so when I arrive on Monday I either have the choice of slut skirt or a previously worn outfit—-neither of which is an option.
I might make a teeeny tinnny trip to the Vac outlets this weekend. Perhaps, step into J Crew?
Spend money I really shouldn’t spend.
Well, in my mom’s words:
“Office clothes are an investment.”
Yeah. Look at me investing in my future.
When did I decide that it was simply okay to only own jeans and inappropiately short dresses/skirts? Apparently, I made this decision somewhere along the line because I am seriously lacking this mystical thing called a working wardrobe.
I’ve already used my interview outfit and back up interview outfit, so when I arrive on Monday I either have the choice of slut skirt or a previously worn outfit—-neither of which is an option.
I might make a teeeny tinnny trip to the Vac outlets this weekend. Perhaps, step into J Crew?
Spend money I really shouldn’t spend.
Well, in my mom’s words:
“Office clothes are an investment.”
Yeah. Look at me investing in my future.
Wednesday, September 1, 2010
Ballin'
DAY 1 of living in new apartment
Today, I woke up in a new room. I like this room. I have a ceiling fan. I have a plant. I have a very grown up looking bedspread.
I also woke up in what some might call a state of anxiety. My body was shaking a little and my stomach was quaking a lot. Basically, I was all nerves.
Reason being: I have an "interview" tomorrow with a Temp Agency. Except at 7:00 this morning I didn't really understand the latter. Having talked to my mom--in an attempt to calm myself down--I soon learned that this "interview" really shouldn't be all too scary. Besides failing the Excel skills test and having to pull some crazy strings to print my resume at the UCD library, this situation shouldn't be that bad. So, tomorrow, I drive to Woodland in my interview attire (I really don't know how I feel about my trouser slacks but they'll do) and do this thing. By 10ish tomorrow, this ordeal will be over and maybe I'll even have a job. (will deal with that anxiety when the time comes)
My new roommate Jolie, who also just moved in, is really nice but quiet. For once in my life, I feel like the crazy loud confident girl. I talked her into letting me use her Kerbos password for the UCD library. This is so not me. Maybe I'm becoming more confident?
Of course, I did drive a moving van on Sunday. After I pulled up to the new apartment in my U Haul, my mom took one look at me and said "You've got balls, girl."
I suppose I do. I could have just boomaranged back home, taken up my old job and lived a quiet but financially sound existance. But I have done just the opposite.
Go me?
Today, I woke up in a new room. I like this room. I have a ceiling fan. I have a plant. I have a very grown up looking bedspread.
I also woke up in what some might call a state of anxiety. My body was shaking a little and my stomach was quaking a lot. Basically, I was all nerves.
Reason being: I have an "interview" tomorrow with a Temp Agency. Except at 7:00 this morning I didn't really understand the latter. Having talked to my mom--in an attempt to calm myself down--I soon learned that this "interview" really shouldn't be all too scary. Besides failing the Excel skills test and having to pull some crazy strings to print my resume at the UCD library, this situation shouldn't be that bad. So, tomorrow, I drive to Woodland in my interview attire (I really don't know how I feel about my trouser slacks but they'll do) and do this thing. By 10ish tomorrow, this ordeal will be over and maybe I'll even have a job. (will deal with that anxiety when the time comes)
My new roommate Jolie, who also just moved in, is really nice but quiet. For once in my life, I feel like the crazy loud confident girl. I talked her into letting me use her Kerbos password for the UCD library. This is so not me. Maybe I'm becoming more confident?
Of course, I did drive a moving van on Sunday. After I pulled up to the new apartment in my U Haul, my mom took one look at me and said "You've got balls, girl."
I suppose I do. I could have just boomaranged back home, taken up my old job and lived a quiet but financially sound existance. But I have done just the opposite.
Go me?
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