thediastema's Diaryland Diary ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- This happened at about 9 a.m. today. It's always like this, Master. Pots don't boil until I'm in the john. Packages don't arrive until I'm out of the house for the first time all week picking up kitty litter. I get a free ride when I've already paid. And the phone call didn't arrive until I was curled up in bed after a long night (and morning) of get-togethers and HTML coding. It didn't occur until I was stark naked because I'm behind on my pyjama laundering. The phone rang only when, for the first time so far in all of 2002, I'd gone ten minutes without giving thought to work. "I understand," said Mrs. Lindberg*, PTC's very own ticket sales/treasury queen, "you were interested in working Box Office during the days here?" WOOHOO! I will not describe in too much detail the dance I did, still naked, with the phone to my ear, because nobody wants to know; suffice it to say that it was all I could do to maintain any semblance of calm in my voice as I arranged to meet with her for training. Tomorrow. Two p.m. The position opens up (for, um, me, pleasepleaseplease!) just after the Olympics. I wonder who's quitting? ~ETK, longing to be Cage People 23:44 - 30 January, 2002 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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