Disappointments and Preparations
Just when I think I've got an interesting tidbit for y'all, it goes and blows up in my face. Crap.

That phone message I told you about was from a lovely sounding woman named Sarah. She was making cold recruiting calls in my area on behalf of her company. I replayed the message for The Boy, and his eyebrows shot way up into his hairline. "This could either be a scam, or opportunity knocking," he said. I was hoping it would be the latter.

I wrote the pertinent information on a small post-y note and stuck it to my monitor at work, where I could gaze upon it. This is a bad habit. I do the same thing with lottery tickets. They sit, untouched, in my wallet or on the coffee table, full of promise. I get more of a kick out of them as I think about the story I could tell later about the ticket that sat for a month before I finally sat down with a coffee and scratched it. I was really wishing this phone message thing would turn out that way.

Brrpt! Incorrect! Thank you for playing!

I emailed around to a few friends over that next morning, and found out a few things about Sarah and her ilk down at P*&%$#ica. They cater to the bottom of the barrel in terms of those with dodgy credit histories. Their collection methods when one of their 'clients' defaults ranks up there with Goodfellas and The Sopranos. They may pay well, but their expectations are high; they apparently think nothing of jettisoning you when the going gets tough. All in all, low marks across the board.

Damn.

Oh well, more surfing each day for that perfect new job. Luckily for me, I'm still hanging on by the skin of my teeth at this job. It will not last, mark my words. (God, aren't I just a little ray of sunshine?)

Lunches this week are being used for planning my Martha-like Thanksgiving celebration with my family. New linens, pork roast, Yorkshire pudding, salads, fresh bread, spectacular cake for dessert, coffee and Baileys, etc. Scented candles, flower arrangements and fall decorations.

Wine.

Lots of wine.

I suspect I'll need it by this Sunday.

Posted at 1:32 p.m.