Yesterday the parents and I went to friends' for dinner then came home. At that point I called my cell phone voicemail to check to see if I have messages...must use landline to do this as the actual cell phone is a bit wonky on our bit of the mountain. And, surprisingly, there was a message. And, surprisingly, it was from one of the jobs I had applied to. This was a shock. Shouldn't have been because I am qualified for the job and even think I might like it and be good at it. But a shock nonetheless. It was more shocking because we had a plan for today and the days following. It went a bit like this:
Drive to Memphis. Eat barbeque. See Graceland. Eat oysters. See ducks. See river. Me get on train on Saturday night and arrive in Chicago Sunday morning.
This plan became slightly problematic as the job that called (and I assumed that if they called they might want to interview me) is in the south...ie the opposite direction of Chicago...and Memphis for that matter. So I awoke planning on finishing packing (it's hard to pack all the stuff that was once sprawled in many little bags all in and over a car into fewer bags that I can carry on a train) and then what? Well I awoke. Did some packing. Called the jobby people back and left a message. Packed some more. Watched my parents pack and fret. Fiddled with the computer. Then I called them back and spoke to a person. They told me a bit more about the position. I was interested. We said goodbye. My parents and I conferred about whether it made any sense to go to Chicago when the interview would be, well, in Georgia. We came to the concensus that it did not. We then spoke of modes of transportation for getting me to said interview. Trains would be stupid (some trips would end up taking 24 hours). Planes were ridiculously expensive (cheapest flight was nearly $400 one way...and I looked at three or four different airports). So instead my parents and I will drive to the thing....it's near ocean...ooooh! So now I am doing what I do every time I get an interview: I am assuming I will get the job...but not without realizing that I may not. I'm picturing my life in this place, the shape of my days and weeks and months and years. I'm imagining the apartment I might live in. Not so much people I will meet. The job has a certain travelling component that somehow makes it so I won't meet people (in my mind). I'm imagining all sorts of things. This is my downfall: I imagine a lot more about my own life than I do for any writing I do/characters I create. If I could just write a whole series of essays about what my life would be like if I was someone else. Well, I guess I've started that. If I was a Simpsons character I...wait! I am!
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