How is it that "I want my mother and my psychologist!" never took off as a major catch phrase, do you think? Personally I love it and use it at every appropriate opportunity, but it would be nice if people knew what I was talking about.
This morning someone from my previous place of employ emailed and said the boss wanted her to fax me something, so could she have my fax number. It was with trepidation that I gave it to her, but what was faxed were copies of my interview thank-you notes, that I had written back in 1997. My old boss is getting ready to retire, so I guess he's cleaning out his desk, but why he wanted those sent to me I do not know.
Not a lot to tell you about my weekend. We moved some more stuff over from the old house (Francisco had to walk the filing cabinets over, on a dolly, because they were too heavy to lift into the pickup), so progress is being made, but if only there was a magic wand I could wave to finish the process. Other than doing worky things, we relaxed and watched television and had Twyla and the nieces over for dinner on Saturday. After dinner we watched Singing in the Rain, which I hadn't seen for a long time but which is a movie I really like. It made me think of the guy who first introduced me to the movie, when I was 20, and hope he is doing well. I THINK he is, but I really don't know.
This weekend Sharky told me he wants to be a bartender and he wants me to teach him how to mix up drinks. After my vision cleared I told him that if he wants to be a bartender he will have to wait until he's 21, because it's The Law, and also that there is no way I'm teaching my 16 year old son how to mix drinks. Later I heard him ask Francisco to teach him to mix drinks, and Francisco said the exact same words "I'm not teaching my 16 year old son how to mix drinks". Francisco also told him the path to bartender begins at busboy and progresses through waiter until it gets to bartender, but Sharky wasn't having it.
Francisco and I went to Goodwill this weekend (to drop more stuff off, mainly) and while we were in the store we saw the 7 foot tall 12 year old. I can't remember what kind of crazy pituitary disease he's got (it's not the normal kind with the tumor on the gland), but the poor kid is massive and is still growing. We recently made a contribution to a fund so his family could buy things like a really long bed for him, and other things needed by a 7 foot tall 12 year old, but now that I've seen him in person I wish we'd given more money.
As of today Francisco started back on the day shift, which will be in effect for two months or until he gets hired by the county sheriff's office and quits the jail; whichever comes first. I know which one I'M hoping for, but as of now we haven't heard back about the oral board scores. Anyway, he's making dinner tonight and OH how I've missed dinner being ready when I get home. I shall change my shoes now and freeze my ass off walking home. Good night!
design by simplify