Well, getting better didn't quite go as planned. But all is good now, I think.

Not a terribly exciting weekend, but it was really nice to hang out with my brother. Last time before he's at Jewish camp and then the Bahamas. I can't believe he'll be so far away!

Last night we went to se Kill Bill, Vol. 2. I'm still not sure what I thought of it. But I do know that I can't wait to watch the DVD with the director commentary. I would love to know what Quentin was thinking. And damn, Uma's the bomb. How she managed to pull off naive 17-year-old is beyond me.

That is all. I have nothing interesting to say.

Soooo tired. It's a bad sign when 20 minutes before the start of a race you're still thinking about bailing. But I ran 10 miles and actually had a halfway decent time. And most importantly, I got to run in Soldier Field and see myself on the jumbotron :) All that, and I'm still feeling sick. It comes and goes in waves. Right now I feel mighty ill. Hopefully that will pass long enough for me to enjoy Andy's party! My little bro's in town, and I have to show him a good time before he works at Jewish camp all summer!

Have I mentioned that I love my job? We had a surprise party for my boss today, and it was fun to see him and other members of the department nicely toasted :) Everyone is just sooo nice to me and so friendly. There are actually times on weekends when I'm looking forward to going back to work on Monday. That's not to say that everything is perfect or that there aren't things that drive me crazy. I have moments of stress, moments of frustration. But really, I can't imagine a better job. And how many people can say that?

This is why I shouldn't stay out late drinking on Saturday nights. Didn't do it last night, and today was one of my most productive days ever: groceries, laundry, returned library books, sent some long overdue emails, called my cousin, studied French, ran 10 miles, and did a total spring cleaning of my apartment, the kind where you move furniture to vacuum, scrub down baseboards, and reorganize closets and dressers. I LOVE this feeling :)

The ringing of the phone today was almost enough to drive me crazy. Until I answered a call from a grad student in my department. She was calling for no other reason that to congratulate me on joining the department and to say how glad she was that I'd be there. Her husband died last week, and she called just to say that. I didn't know what to do with that; it certainly put some stuff in perspective.

A baseball game in mid-May should not be SO COLD. I'm sure I was colder than most because I'm sick and probably running a mild fever, but everyone there was drinking hot chocolate and wrapped in blankets. According to Yahoo, it's 53 degrees and wind is 13mph. That shouldn't feel that cold, but I was miserable. Anyway, I left early. I LOVE the Cubs, and I hate wasting money, but I just wasn't enjoying myself at all. And as I sit on my couch in my warm apartment with a big cozy sweatshirt on, watching the incredibly low-scoring game on TV, I am quite happy with my decision.

I'm definitely sick. :( On Saturday I thought it might be a hangover; yesterday I was hoping is was residual bad mood. But today I have a scratchy throat, swollen glands, and I've been cold all day. Hmph. Damn weather changing every five seconds. And dammit that I don't have health insurance or sick days for a few more weeks.

In happier news, today I met the former Macedonian ambassador to the Vatican and helped him fill out paperwork. It made me feel important for a few minutes!

And I'm still floating on air about that paying off the bills things. As long as I don't spend any money at the Cubbies game tomorrow I'll be all set.

I don't hate new blogger... I just hate using it on a Mac, which I suppose it a good argument for not blogging at work.

Good news: sometime early next month I will be completely paid off on my credit cards and may be able to start putting money in savings. And I'll start my retirement plan. I'm an adult :)

I was assaulted by a drunk, old bum on the street last night, about 2 blocks from my apartment. I'm used to catcalls and panhandlers; I do a lot of walking in a big city, and those are par for the course. But this man, who I'd just seen take a swig from a flask, actually hit me as I walked by. Then he asked if I had money, and when I said no and kept walking, he followed me for half a block, saying, "Oh you're nice" and "I want you."

I wasn't hurt, and he didn't take anything. And, of course, I can walk much, much faster than a drunk old man. But it definitely shook me up. What if it's a younger man next time, or he's on a bike, or he swipes at me with a knife instead of his fist. I'm not okay with always taking a cab or the train instead of walking. And, in point of fact, I feel no safer on the train. I moved back here in large part because I enjoy being able to walk everywhere, and I don't want to give up that freedom.

Hmph. I may need to take self defense classes or listen to my mother and start carrying pepper spray. Neither of those would protect me against a gun, but then, if someone's got a gun, not much would help. And I will not leave the city.

It's official, I have my job.

Details to follow.

The possible job would provide the "opportunity" for lots of overtime and travel (to Pennsylvania) and would only pay $1 more an hour than I make now. These are good things?!? I told the woman to submit my resume, but i think I'd have a hard time being excited in that interview!

Speaking of, I work in a dumb, dumb. I had an actual interview with questions like "where do you see yourself in five years" and "how would you handle this situation..." Are they kidding with this stuff?? I spent half the interview telling them the ways I would improve the efficiency of the department :) Not sure if that won me any supporters, but hey, if they won't listen to my ideas, I don't want to work here!

So yeah, the theme here is that while I really don't mind working, whatever the job, I hate job hunting.

I dislike new Blogger.

But I love Eulalia and Troy! They give the best gifts :) (Not that my friends need to get me gifts for me to like them!)

Got a call out of the blue today from an employment agency I was working with a few months ago saying they'd found a position they thought was perfect for me. I said I was interested. Don't know much about it yet, but I guess it's good to keep my options open.

Lots of thoughts rattling around my brain at the moment about job searching, what I want out of life, happiness, etc. But I'm too tired to make it coherant. Maybe later.

Not only did I have to apply for my job; now I have to interview. Hmph. They sent an email asking if I was available at 11:30am on Friday. I should have replied, "I don't know. You'll have to ask my boss... you know, the guy conducting the interviews." I hate bureacracy. Either they want me or they don't, and I don't see how formally interviewing me is going to help them decide.

I'm back. Owed emails are coming.

Now that it's no longer a state secret (i.e., my parents know), I can share the good news-- my brother's engaged to a nice Jewish girl :) And they're both wearing rings that they bought together, which makes me even happier!

I can't believe I drove 10 hours to spend 26 hours in Ohio, six of which were sleeping, 4+ at BORING graduation ceremonies, and one spent cleaning my brother's absolutely disgusting bathroom. Was it worth it? Well yeah, anytime I get to see my parents, my brother, and his fiance it's automatically worth it.

I love Friends, and I'm not ashamed to say it. I was never the obsessive fan who makes up my own trivia games or hosts a bulletin board, but I truly enjoyed watching the show. I'm not weeping that it's over, but I'm glad they made this season.

Why do I love Friends, or sitcoms more generally? A frequent criticism I hear of sitcoms is that they're not realistic. What on TV is realistic? Are sitcoms contrived? Absolutely! Isn't that the point of TV? On a medium where not even the news can be said to accurately portray reality, and "reality" shows are a thinly veiled fusion of game show and soap opera, why do we care about realism? (I could go into a philosophical discussion on the nature of reality here, but that might be ill-advised, as philosophy is my Achilles heel.)

I love to read, and while I do sometimes read non-fiction, my obsession is the mystery novel. Like TV, mystery novels are an escape for me. But the two represent very different kinds of escape. In mystery novels I may not always escape life, especially if I'm reading about terrorism or war, but I can escape MY life. After all, I've never had to solve a murder or fight bad guys. Sitcoms are the reverse. I may be able to escape "real" life, but I can't escape my life. My favorite sitcoms are the ones on which I find characters and situations with which I identify. I've yet to share any characteristics with the people on reality shows, but the characters on Friends often remind me of me, if obviously exaggerated.

Maybe for most people the chances of drunkenly marrying a friend in Vegas or accidentally becoming pregnant with his child are utterly nil, but while I don't hope for those to happen, I can't deny that they'd be possible. When Phoebe struggled with being a vegetarian while pregnant or whether to wear a fur coat that was given as a gift, I could understand the sentiments. Ross's fear the first time he had to teach a lecture hall full of students was touching because I'd been there, too. I can't say that I am, or would want to be, any of these characters, but I can identify with them.

And that's why I will miss Friends, or at least new episodes of Friends. Was it intellectual or high-brow? No, but it made me laugh, and occasionally think, and that's all I ask of a TV show.

Made an unsuccessful attempt to retrieve my credit card last night. In retrospect, I should have realized that a bar across the street from a ballpark would be crowded right after a game. However, I couldn't have known that the bartenders would be wholly unwilling to help me. Hmph.

I no longer hate night games. The traffic is still puts me in a foul mood, but it's not quite so evil when I go to the game, too. :)

I hope this week is over soon. Has anyone else felt like this week has just lasted forever? I have never been so unmotivated to do work in my life, and it seems like everyone else I've talked to has felt the same way. I've been stressed out and tired, and I'm fairly certain I'm coming down with something. Half the professors have been out sick this week, so there's a good chance I may have caught something that's going around.

I just need to stay well enough to drive to Ohio tomorrow after work. My baby brother is graduating from college! Yes, I feel ridiculously old now.

I will be seeing Mom and Granny on Mother's Day. Any gift ideas?

It took me TWO HOURS to get home from work today. Two hours to go 13 miles. If you'll recall, a week and a half ago I managed to RUN 13 miles in 2 hours. I can easily bike that far much faster. Damn game traffic.

I wasn't actually driving the entire two hours. I was an idiot and left my wallet at home, and I was convinced I was going to run out of gas and be the dumbass stalled in the middle of already backed-up traffic. After over and a half of driving I finally got to my exit and left my car parked at the gas station (I had to beg the cashier to let me keep it parked in an out-of-the-way spot) while I walked back to my apartment and got my wallet. Finally got to my car, got gas and then couldn't find parking anywhere except in a position that I'm fairly sure was illegal. I'll find out when I see if my car is there tomorrow morning. (Actually, I don't think it'd be towed, just maybe ticketed.)

I need to start biking to work! But first I need to do a spring tune-up to my bike. Hmph.

I'm actually in a MUCH better mood now than I was when I got home, but I still need to figure out a new solution because coming home every day in that kind of mood is NOT going to work for me!

Call it a residual effect of grad school-- this whole working 9-5 thing still seems odd to me. It's not that I can't handle 40+ hours a week; I just can't handle the set hours. I'm used to doing errands (going to the bank, grocery shopping, laundry, paying bills, dishes, cleaning) during the day, and working at night. Now errands just don't get done. The bank closes by the time I get home from work; I can't find parking if I grocery shop at night; and the laundry room is crowded at night when everyone else is also home from work. I have no excuse for bills, dishes, and cleaning. Those just seem like daytime activities to me. Granted, I could do things during the day if I ever spent a sober weekend in town, but let's face it, that's unlikely to happen soon. And it woud help if I ever went to sleep at an early hour or did something with my evenings other than stare at the TV while surfing the internet, but again, that's unlikely.

Strangely, I think the solution to all of this is to work two jobs. The less time I have to accomplish things, the more I'll get done. Or at least paying bills won't be quite the frightening experience it is now.

I don't have a solution for burning out at work around 4pm every day. I mean a solution besides ignoring my work to blog :-)

Nothing like writing a cover letter to apply for a job you already have :(

Yesterday I woke up at 8:30am, looked at the clock, and freaked out. I was convinced that Sarah and I were late for work. I even started out to the living room to wake up Sarah. And then I remembered it was Saturday. Ahhh.

When I woke up again many hours later I did my post-drunk routine of checking to make sure I still had everything and viewing the outgoing calls on my phone to make sure I didn't drunk dial. In this case, I struck out on both counts. My credit card was missing, and I'd called Rob.

I *think* the Rob call was because I was in a Michigan bar (Gin Mill). I don't suppose it matters much because Rob is across the country.

The credit card had me worried though. I knew I'd closed out my tab and even had the receipt as proof. I had visions of having to cancel my card and erase fraudulent charges. I believe those damn Citibank identify theft commercials even ran through my head.

But I kept my cool and called the bar. Sure enough, I'd just forgotten the card when I closed out the tab. So all was good. Except that the bartender I spoke to actually remembered me and asked how hungover I was. I think it's a bad sign when the bartender thinks you were too drunk :) And he was right about the hangover. Ouch.

But all better know and ready to tackle the world again. Right after I get off the couch.