It May Be A Little Bit Too Country in the Country
So I got a permanent gig at last that I can live with. It's in Virginia so I shall have to move from Germantown as it's nearly 40 miles, at least half that distance in dreadful traffic. This all came on rather quickly.
I could tell you about the one that got away, the one that came and wined and dined me took me for a ride in his private jet and left me with my eyes full of stars and my head completely turned. "I'll call you," he said looking deep into my eyes. "This was special." Did he call?
They never do. My mother maintains that I'm much happier without the bastard and I'm inclined to believe, well, it is necessary to believe it at this point otherwise I'd just be like whatsername neath the blossoms waiting. Still, when I read his name in the paper I wince. But I'm moving on...
...to this gig not in the center of the city. No he's not rich like that other fellow but he's a steady provider and promises me four weeks paid vacation a year and an honest day's pay. The location is out on the outer reaches of the Metro area. I may have to say goodbye to the bright lights of the city but perhaps I can make up for it in acreage, space, quiet, nature, etc. So when I saw the Craig's list posting advertising the house on 75 acres (not that far from the job, really, if it was fabulous it deserved consideration) I followed the link to the specimen of shitty-little-California-ranch-style above (interior below),
and realized I was looking at Larry the Cable Guy's pied a terre.
Leslie, via email, has suggested I should give up my dreams of being landed gentry. She has a new blog, The Bias Committee and you should drop by and take a look because that's where she's following through on her Jena experience. You can't march in a crowd every day, you know. You have to do the daily work too, and that's what she's doing.