I was listening to the radio yesterday, working on getting to Chicago, and the DJ was talking about the Bonnie Raitt/Lyle Lovett show at the Ravinia. Yeah, yeah, whatever. Oh, wait! Yes! His shattered leg is still far from healed! So the DJ talks about what a trouper Lyle is, about how he knew the members of his Large Band depended on him for their livelihood, so he�s still out there performing. With a large wire contraption that�s screwed into his leg. So of course he�ll be sitting. But he�ll be there.

What is it about Lyle Lovett that�s so incredibly appealing? He does make the ladies swoon.

Johnny, on the other hand, did make them swoon, but he�s taken over the swooning. Momentarily.

What? That isn�t all you want to know? Well, that�s what you get for failing to report which Golden Girl you are. I don�t know how much you can be trusted with. But since I received one report from a Sophia Petrillo, I�ll carry on.

In brief, the interview went well. I decided I would/could make some vague sacrifices to make it happen. To enjoy my work. I would. It felt like work I would enjoy, and that�s worth quite a bit these days. The benefits won�t even compare; we don�t know about salary. I�ll have to wait a few days and see if an offer comes.

I was so convinced that yesterday would be the end of it�that I�d be so wonderful they�d make an offer right then. But again, this is the city, not here, so it�s likely that I�m not the only qualified candidate.

I didn�t realize it was so close to the hospitals. That was a bit of a shock. But I refuse to think of whom I might run into on the train in the morning. I could take the bus, anyway. And in spite of my confident city driving yesterday, I still maintain it�s best for me to live in an area I know. Or where I have a friend. So that gives me a few options.

But then I might not get the job offer at all, and I shouldn�t really be thinking like I will, but I think it felt like I will, but I�ve become such a bad judge of the employment process. Much easier when you�re on the other side, when you can make arbitrary judgments about people based on their resumes. And such.

Oh god, it�s just agony. I do not handle life stress well. Work stress I handle surprisingly well, I think.

And I broke the strap on my favorite exercise bra this morning. The poor dear�s given me several years of good service, never becoming droopy and stretched-out (a significant problem I�ve noticed on less-endowed specimens of females�some of us seem particularly attuned to the issue). But there�s just no saving it. And the fine ladies at Moving Comfort don�t seem to make it anymore. So in addition to a possible relocation and new job, I must also deal with a new sports bra.

I�m not sure I can make it.

Also, piss on men who stand you up, when they�ve asked if they can come drink with you, and you�re not interested in them, but you would like some company for a bit.

Speaking of not terribly nice, this idea is much nicer than the people who�ve voted.