Old and Feeling Older

I sit here, wearing all black leather walking shoes (not Cons) and big black socks up my calves. I feel like I'm the hippest guy in the retirement community because my walker has colorful tennis balls on the back feet.

It's all because of a job. A job I interviewed for, made phone calls about, checked with their website, left my name with Jerry a number of times, and drove down to their offices not once but twice. A job which has actual Benefits, with a capital Bene. A Monday through Friday day job with training and advancement.

Ultimately, it feels very strange. Not to many of you, naturally, but to those of you who look forward in time to where I am now, know this: It is never as easy as you think. At the same time, you should be less scared of it, because it is far easier than you imagine. Both at the same time. When it happens, it will make sense. This is my solemn promise.

Enough of my pseudo-enlightened, LiveJournal-conceit ramblings. Blogs tend to make people do exactly what I dislike about them, and that's pretend they're saying something special. They make you pretense, and therefore pretentious. See, doing it again.

Philosophical tomfoolery aside, I have a job now. It took a while, but much to my and Allison's relief it finally happened. Come Thursday or so, I'll be a security guard for AlliedBarton, making a fair clip of money doing it with a real, regular-job kind of schedule. Of course, right when I do this, I hear that the Technical Director job I turned down because I didn't have the paper qualifications for (among other things) got filled by a woman with not half my experience. This is shocking, and proves that the world is wicked. But, perhaps, in a couple years, the job will still be a revolving door, and I can line up to the the Defense Against the Dark Arts Technical Director there. Oh, the convenience.

But that'snot now, and now is wearing big black walking shoes and trying to figure out how I'll keep fooling them into thinking I'm a security guard.