Day 70 (also known as 70 days left)
Influenza, she wrote
I don’t fall sick gracefully. You know how in Hollywood movies, the heroine lies dramatically on a couch covered in a shawl and people swarm around her, carrying juices and looking sad? Well that’s never me. I go around looking miserable with a filthy bit of tissue paper stuck between my nose and glasses, blowing my nose like geese honking or trumpets in a parade. I aggravate my cold out of sheer stubbornness until it turns into a full blown fever and then expect to be pampered, which I never am. Beth of Little Women, I am not.
Blah blah…wedding…blah blah
Khaer, my countdown’s started a lot later than when I actually started counting down. I started checking the calender in June; when I finally found time to look at the calender at all. Since then it’s been the only activity I have (other than sending my resume to every known design agency in town) and it’s tragic how little time of my time it consumes. The rest of my day is then spent roaming around miserably with tissue stuck between my nose and glasses. Sigh.
It’s funny how I don’t feel nervous at all. Considering the panic attacks I got just at the thought of being engaged, I’m surprised at my maturity. But then, I doubt I’ve registered the fact that I’m getting married (you would be surprised how emotionally dense I am); and secondly, I don’t think I’ve registered that marriage means forever. FO-REVER. FOR- EVER. Til death do us part. Now I’ve read the last two lines again and I’m still not freaked out, therefore the only conclusion is that my mind doesn’t get what’s happening. It’s doped up; or so high on free arsenal mugs and chocolate that all it can come up with is “Whatever man…”
Being farigh is the pits. I write my best when I’m ranting and this waylapan is leaving me nothing to rant about!
Anyway, I have an interview call tomorrow from Nippon paints. They need a color consultant and even though I KNOW I’m great for the job, the problem lies in convincing everybody else. Once again the fine line between confidence and arrogance becomes the enemy. I’ve given up on textile mills…the hiring criteria of textile mills is whacked. The first job interview I gave required the applicants to give an aptitude test. Needless to say I scored the highest. Needless to say I was the only one they didn’t call for the second interview. Maybe it was my killer charm. I can, after all, turn technology into a metal dump with a mere glance…or the ring on my finger which screams “Don’t hire her! She’ll leave once she’s married!” Or maybe it was neither. They probably thought they couldn’t afford me.
And damn right they were.