She called this morning. I'd just overdosed on some brand new allergy meds because I didn't expect a call before, say, the next millenium. Or I was going to call that afternoon. But lo, she calleth, telling me where and when and what to bring, but she didn't tell me how not to panic. I think I have to have a state ID made. And dear God, do I need clothes.
I'm hired. *blank*
But this means? T-minus thirty-five days to those boots. Or sandals. Or well, something celebratory.
I'm not sure if I'm happy. I'm betting the shock's interfereing with normal brain function. *grins*
Yay me! Er, I think.
Ask me when I'm less drugged. And have eaten something.
*****
Got CD from
Found this rec on
Updated memories with more organization and fiction fragments and so on. The big thing that makes LJ inconvenient is diaryland I had an index for all my entries and LJ just doesn't have that. I could make one by hand, which is tempting, because it's tiring to just keep sorting backward by day. Hmm.
Okay, two outfits chosen for next week. Dear God, do I need to go shopping. Thirty-five days. Shall invest in clothes that require no ironing and go with any kind of shoes. And maybe, just maybe, something in a color found in the average spectrum. Maybe. If I'm feeling adventurous. Girl cannot surivive on earthtones alone. Or so people keep telling me.
Eck. More later. I have to go buy egrerious amounts of hose and possibly something in the skirt family.
I hold a regular, normal, person-type job. With benefits. This means that as of Tuesday, I can go right outside and play in the street and if a car hits me? I'm COVERED! They have to fix me! Yay!
No, I'm NOT testing it, but you know, comforting to know.
Breathe breathe breathe.
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