Three Days and Counting… Or is it Four?

Sorry I fell of the face of the earth there. I’ve been packing to move down below the Mason-Dixon line. My house is full of stuff in boxes and bags and although I’ve been trying for days, none of my little piles have a rhyme or reason. But I must press on!

Tomorrow is my phone interview. I’m really freaking out and I’m trying to research the position and the institution as much as possible but so many things could go wrong. I could have a hiccup attack (known to happen) I could completely blank and then stutter before uttering a slew of unsophisticated statements (“I put things in boxes and write stuff about them, i’m good at that, oh yeah”) or i could come across as a cocky twat (though some people seem to like that, yet I don’t want my New Yorker go-getter attitude to scare the poor Southerners, they’re just too polite!)

So I’m trying to take a break and watch CSI: Miami, pretending I don’t have a million things to fax and organize before I head on down. I am also ignoring the fact that I can no longer see my bedroom floor because it is covered in ever item of clothing I own because I can’t seem to ever find that one black tank top I need (it was  still packed in my vacation bag).

So once again wish me luck tomorrow. I’m hoping it either all goes well and I get the job or terribly and comically wrong so I can at least have a good story for you.


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