I start a brand-spanking new job tomorrow as a receptionist for our area BMW dealership. It’s a full-timer, benefits and all, but no free car, sadly–one perk is that I get to dress up everyday (which will probably get old, but will nonetheless thrill me for a good month or so, so we will overlook that fact.)
I am just excited enough to be apprehensive, and just apprehensive enough to fret over my nails and my hair and that new spot on my face, and alternately obsess over how much of my wardrobe is work-appropriate and how much the employee discount for leasing new vehicles is. I am loathe to admit it, but along with the art and the music and the healthy appreciation for inner beauty, Allis is also a fickle and superficial creature. This is why she changes her web page colors so often.
It occurred to me today that not working at home anymore also meant that I could finally change my voicemail message on my cell phone. The realization was something like handing a box of fingerpaints over to an over-stimulated and energetic four-year-old. I think I have recorded some fifteen messages today, but just now settled on one (for now, until I get Marcia or Erci to help me do one in Portuguese) so if you would like to call my cell phone, I will politely abstain from answering so that you may hear it.
….I have this distant, shadowy memory of fingerpainting in preschool. There was lots of purple.
On a somewhat unrelated note, Lucy has been rather sweet these past few nights, and I can’t help but think that she must be making up for some thing that I just haven’t discovered yet.