I was going to update Friday. I was going to say the following: "Today was the best of days and the worst of days." I would then have gone on to explicate precisely how the day was bad and good. But since the entire weekend's continued along the same lines, well, just do the muliplication yourself.

Job interview. Affirmative. Tuesday morning. I was exceedingly excited, until the fellow from the place told me the base salary. It's less than I make now. High, then low. But it could work out. Several friends have wisely advised me to ignore that fact, 'cause it could work just fine. Toss out the car. So I was okay again. Then I dropped the Sonic stawberry limeade, which had been a gift, before a mere drop had passed through my lips. Happy hour was a disappointment, too.

But I know what you really want to know--what am I wearing? Damn fine question. Not the Tarzan/Jane combo oufit from last Halloween, and certainly nothing new. Shopping in C-U is laughable, at best. If you want a Sunday school teacher-like dress, no problem. Style, you say? Oh, no. None of that. But TJ Maxx supplied me with a lovely pair of mary janes that will enliven anything I chance to wear.

Other than that, well, I had a meltdown (pun intended) last night, skipped the night out with friends, loaded up the cat and drove to the parents' house. My apartment was unbearably hot. So here I am.

I'm eager for the drama to be over, aren't you? Back to the oh-so-informative-and-delightful posts of yore. Don't recall those? Eh, you're a sarcastice twit anyway.

I'll meet Court for drinks Tuesday after she's released from her publishing job for the day. We'll analyze and scheme, and it'll be divine.

In the meantime, the old lady's made me a nice rhubarb cobbler. Sit pretty.