It's Saturday night. The last weekend of faire. Am I at any of the four parties I was invited to? Nope. I'm working like a good little monkey. I have given up duct tape clothing, top hats, cowboys and Indians and received bleaching the kitchen grout as my glorious parting gift. Next year, I am getting all six weekends off if it kills me. (Since I am dying a little inside from jealousy of everyone who is there.) Good planning. Really.
I have bleach in my nose.
This past week was eventful. We joined a gym. We even got a personal trainer who told us that we need to work out. (fancy that, at a gym) This is all very exciting. I am going to go on Monday and start my routine... Hey, I have a routine! Hee! This place even has a lap pool. Goodie for me!! I like to swim. Hopefully in a few months I will trim and slim, and have cool arm muscles, just like the trainer said. By the way it is hard to take him seriously because he looks an awful lot like Will.
Still waiting for a call about the second interview. But since they called me at seven last Sunday night, I am not too suprised. I just hope they give me enough time to compose myself. Ok, so I don't really need to compose as much as get an acceptable outfit for a panal of Christian interviewers. Geeze, I want this job.
Alright, I still need to clean the rec room, so... high-ho, high-ho it's back to work I go.
Tah
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