Matt and I went on a date and did shots! No, wait. Matt and I went on a date and got shots! The day of my last shot, I sat around nervously all day terrified I would miss my time slot and left an hour early. The days I was driving my parents for their shots, same. Yesterday I ran around with Eve all day trying to find some decent black shoes for her abbreviated graduation ceremony tomorrow evening because we realized she only ever wears boots or flip-flops (my kid, obviously) and other than some super-fancy shoes for prom, she had nothing. We could maybe be forgiven this lapse if this was the first time this had happened, but, um, it's not. So we went to a few stores without any luck, until we realized she didn't really know what she wanted, she just felt like maybe wearing her Docs for grad wasn't completely appropriate. To which I said, hogwash (I did, I used a quaint and un-profane epithet, you weren't there, you can't prove otherwise). I wore Docs for my weddi
I had a job interview today. I was weirdly panicky about the whole process, which was a little weird, and I don't want to say anything else about it for now, and I don't know how things will turn out, I'm just limp and noodly with relief that it's over. Eve is still at basketball practice and the temperature is plummeting and my head hurts and I don't have the energy to say anything witty or intelligent right now. The story of getting TO my interview is going to have you marveling (huh. Only one L in marveling? Okay then) at the extent of my ability to screw up simple tasks when I tell you about it tomorrow, though. Promise.
I am a hot mess. I had a great conversation today with friends in an ongoing Facebook chat (ongoing for ... I don't know how to check how many years now - Hannah? Nicole? Any idea?) about how two of us were hanging back from the conversation because we were struggling and didn't feel like burdening the others with our complaints, even though we know rationally that whenever we do, everyone is compassionate and supportive, and we feel better. One of depression's major Insult to Injury Features is that it both takes you out at the knees and whispers in your ear that your pain is unearned and unimportant and no one will believe you or care. But first, the good stuff: Watch this space! Ready? THERE'S AN EVE IN IT! We stowed a couple of things (microwave, bedside table drawers, bin of dishes) in Matt's brother's garage not too far away because she wasn't going to have access to her house until May. We had pretty easily fit everything in the Rav going down, with