Que sera, sera

Good evening, gentle readers!

Today has been a rough day for yours truly.  

Actually, it's been a rough month.

As I think I mentioned previously, the shop that I work at will be closing down at the end of the year. In anticipation of that event, I've been putting out feelers, trying to get a job lined up for the new year.

Initially, I had some strong possibilities, but they didn't amount to anything. Then, last month, I was advised to apply at a regional insurance agency.

I sort of shrugged my shoulders and put in an application. I was pleasantly surprised to get a telephone interview with their HR Department. Later, still, I was invited to their office for a face-to-face interview with one of their managers. It lasted about 45 minutes and I thought it went pretty well, even though I had to scramble at the last moment to find something "businesslike."

That was about a week ago. 

I thought I had the job nailed down, but then I got a call from their HR Department advising me that they had gone with someone else.

I was somewhat disappointed, but not as much as I probably should have been. It would have been a nice job, with some nice benefits, but I'm not sure I'm cut out for that whole nine to five gig.  I'm not a morning person and I hate the idea of having to wear a tie.

I keep joking that I'm going to get a real phone and just Uber for a while, but now I'm thinking maybe I shouldn't dismiss it.  But then I think about having complete strangers in my car and I just go, "No."

Still, you can't sit on your ass, and expect the world to hand you a golden ring.

That's why I just applied at another place.

What next?

I don't know.

Let's find out together.

Stuff and Nonsense

The first book that I can ever remember hating was Alice's Adventures in Wonderland.
I was still in elementary school when I stumbled across a copy of it, sitting on a dusty bookshelf at home.  I was familiar with the name and had seen bits and pieces of the old Disney cartoons, so I pulled it out, made myself comfy on the couch and started to read.
I didn't get very far that first time. After a couple of chapters I shut the book and, if I remember correctly, throwing it across the room.
I had never done that with a book before and I haven't done it with one since.
I didn't like that book, but I kept going back to it. Perhaps I thought it would get better? It was supposed to be a great classic, wasn't it? It was supposed to be wildly popular with kids?
Mostly, I remember feeling incredibly frustrated when I read the book. Maybe it was Carroll's language? Or the fact that Alice was a bloody irritating girl! She was the sort of person who thought math jokes were fun.
It took a while for me to finish the book. I had to read it in snips and snaps. When I finally turned the last page and closed the book, it was winter. I was on the couch in the living room. There was a fire in the fireplace.
I sat there on the couch, holding the book, peering into the fire, seriously thinking about burning it.
Yes.
I hated Alice's Adventures in Wonderland that much.
No. That's not right.
I didn't hate the book, I loathed it. Even now, just thinking about it sets my teeth on edge and makes my skin itch.
People have described that book as charming and whimsical.
I disagree.
I think that book is mad. I used to wonder if Carroll was high on opium when he wrote it.
It is the one book that I never recommend to anyone to read. Ever.
My reaction to it is visceral.
If it were a person, I would punch them in the face.
Repeatedly.