Sunday, July 07, 2013

For every sad, there is a happy

i love whomever made this!

I had that ‘refresher’ interview on Friday.

What a weird time… but I’ll get to that in a minute. Let’s start at the beginning. Shall we?

It started with him emailing me. In it, he told me that he wrote me this really long email, but never sent it. Then he wanted to know how my job search was going.

Turns out, that after my interview with him at the end of May, he had to make a political hire. (Whether that’s a lie, I don’t know…)

So Friday’s interview was lunch off-site because he didn’t want to be anywhere in the building when we talked. Walls have ears and all that.

During the interview, he told me more than once that I was his first choice. I guess to prove that it was a political hire? Again, I don’t know…

We chatted. We laughed. We bonded.

He pulled out real-life financials, invoices, and reports and asked me to analyze them.

He pop quizzed me several times on accounting techniques. (He kept apologizing for it, but it was kind of funny. I apologized several times for rolling my eyes.)

He asked me how to fix a printer. (I’m fucking serious. It was pretty hilarious.)

He told me exactly what he wanted me to take ownership of.

He told me exactly what he expected of me when I started.

Then, without meaning to, he pulled a Sherlock when he asked me if I was OK with him singing in the office. (For reference, during Sherlock and John’s first meeting, Sherlock says, “I play the violin when I’m thinking. Sometimes I don’t talk for hours on end. would that bother you? Potential flatmates should know the worst about each other.”)

I wasn’t sure if I should laugh hysterically or hug him for that.

He said I should hear back from him soon. He wasn’t sure if the owners needed to be involved or not before he made a decision. (I don’t know if they need to be - they got the resume and gave it to him, so obviously, they liked me on some level.)

I don’t want to be to optimistic, but I’m hoping to hell this means that I’m getting an offer.

Soon.

——

After moping around this morning for too long, the Duke of Stud texted me. Didn’t exactly help, per se, but he distracted me and made me laugh for a little bit. I can’t complain about that.

We’re figuring us out. Day by day.

He’s getting better, but I still feel like he’s still a ticking time bomb.

I guess I’ve been burned by him too many times.

BUT…

He offered to do something like the GORUCK with me after the spring of 2014. I’m looking forward to that. It’ll be nice to do it with friends…

After we got done talking, I realized that while I didn’t do the PT with the team, I walked the entire thing with them (however many miles). WITH MY RUCK ON. IN 90 DEGREE WEATHER.

I guess that’s something to be proud of.

... and so I will be.

I need a hug

a little johnlock lovin’

I’d joked about dying during the GORUCK Challenge, but I didn’t think it would almost actually kill me.

Between the 90 degree heat and my heart defect acting up, I couldn’t breathe. Could. Not. Breathe. At. All.

They tried to help me out, but not even a half hour in, I backed out. I didn’t want to be the weak link.

Of course, I feel even worse because if a kid that puked the ENTIRE time (forever known as “Barf Bag”) could do it, why couldn’t I?

I walked the course with the group, just to see if I could. To get an idea of whether or not I could handle doing it again.

I can.

But first, I need to schedule an appointment with my cardiologist and fix this. (I already know the only way to fix it. I don’t want to be awake while they shove the laser up my leg and zap my heart. I’m hoping there may be a second option now… it’s been a few years since the diagnosis.)

I know I can’t control what my heart did… I know I can’t control the weather.

I did the best that I could without putting my life at risk. I mean, with these as the symptoms, could you really blame me for backing out?
Pounding heart
Shortness of breath
Chest pain
Rapid breathing
Dizziness
Loss of consciousness

I’m looking at Hartford in October… I’m not giving up.

I know if I can get the heart under control, I can do it.

Time to suck it up and get it fixed once and for all.

But in the meantime, I’m going to sit here and pout and cry and generally be a baby about it.