Help, help! I'm going to a group interview tomorrow! What the heck is a group interview anyways? It seems sort of stupid to me. (But please don't tell the prospective employers I said so, because I really do want this job. I think) There'll be fifteen of us going round in a circle all saying the same thing. Dad also says there will be a conversation hog who will look like a fool. I hope I'm not the hog. I don't really see how I could be. Ugh.
Well, life goes on. I will wear my bright pink jeans and try to be my charming, friendly self. And if I don't get it I really won't be crushed.
"So," she said, with a cool toss of her well-kept head of silky blonde hair and a casual shrug of her elegant shoulders, "we are moving into the new house in... what is it? Oh, yes, two days. I'm sure it will be fine."
Yeah. Back to reality land.
I guess I'm getting excited. You would too if you were moving from very small apartment with a charming prospect across dying grass to three dead, abandoned air conditioning units, glinting in the sunlight, to a comparatively spacious house with bedrooms for all and 150 feet of lake front to call it's own. Trust me, you would be too.
Do I sound like an insufferable gloater? Perhaps I am. But I would like to say that this is beyond anything we ever dreamed we'd get and definitely beyond anything we deserve. I feel guilty, sometimes, for being so happy when so much bad is happening elsewhere in the world. But getting depressed and wallowing over things and forgetting the blessings I've got has never helped anyone, I think. When I'm really honest - tell myself to shut up and stop stubbornly indulging in mopes - I find that every day, every moment can be completely new. Which sounds like absolute drivel, but is actually true. I always have a chance to get over myself and get up and do something worthwhile. Over the past few days, nerd that I am, I've thought several times of that speech Sam gives in the Lord of the Rings movie. You know, "...the ones that really mattered." Giving in isn't the answer - where will the people who have suffered have to go when they eventually get out? Doesn't make much sense, I know, but I'm doing stream of consciousness writing and being very deep and therefore you must take me very seriously.
What a soppy person I am becoming. But oh well. I'm happy, happy, happy. I hope we have one of those always-open houses, with pots of people in and out all the time. We have a room to put people up in, which is a first for us. A new frontier, indeed.