So here I am, home, while my friends, I hope, are having a good time at the bar get-together I coordinate.

No, I'm not feeling unloved, or even unusually shy.

My foot hurts. A low-level sort of thing, result of a splinter I got this morning: but with a job interview tomorrow morning, for which I have to be able to walk, and not be visibly or distractedly in pain, it seems best not to push things.

If I hadn't been home most of the day, dealing with plumbing and plastering, I might be on Atlantic Avenue right now--but as is, I would have had to make the whole trip. Or, rather, I could save myself the entire trip by coming back home. If I'm going to walk the same distance either way, I'll go out and play.

Sometimes being a grown-up is frustrating. But less so, I'll bet, than hobbling to a job interview, or blowing it because my feet hurt too much for me to think about whatever it is they're going to ask me.

Wish me luck. I have the clothing, the shoes, the handbag, all the stuff to disguise the weird, casual Redbird; now I need to display the smart, helpful, quick, creative Redbird.
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About Me

redbird: closeup of me drinking tea, in a friend's kitchen (Default)
Redbird

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