this is why my brother is the athlete in the family

Vegas & I have started running. I mean, I'm calling it "running" so that you all (hi Dad & Bekah, my two most devoted readers) understand what I'm doing. If I were somebody who actually ran, I would call it jogging/walking/listening to an iPod while trying to keep Vegas out of the street/from eating cats/from eating garbage while she tries to pee on every rock that we pass.

Our schedule goes like this:

0700 - alarm goes off

0701 - reset the alarm so that I can sleep another 15 minutes

0715 - alarm

0716 - reset

0745 - alarm. Decide that we probably ought to get out of bed

0746 - stretching

0750 - realize I've fall asleep stretching, resume stretching

0755 - put on running shoes. Vegas knows WHAT IS UP

0800 - head out the door. Jog/walk/iPod/in the street/chase cat/pee on rocks

0845 - back home. Take off shoes, socks, leash, shirt. Vegas & I both stretch in front of the fan.

0900 - try to convince myself that I want yogurt for breakfast. I hate yogurt. Eat a few bites. Feed the rest to the dog.

My future as a triathlete is not all that bright. Furthermore, making me run past Raliberto's, Filiberto's AND Armando's? That is just unkind.

Anyway, sneaking into that interview seems to have switched up my luck. I have TWO interviews tomorrow for pediatrics positions!! If you are of the good thought sending or praying types, I'd appreciate if you send 'em up for me!

lazy sunday

All that I plan on doing today:

- sleeping until noon

- forcing Russell J to order tortas en español. Giggling/being totally proud of him

- watching the Steelers play/napping

- resting up for my interview on Tuesday. That's right. I scored 2 separate interviews in one week. En fueeeego.

interview ninja

Today, at twenty-four years of age, I broke the rules.

There was this hiring event. And in order to score an interview, you had to apply via the website. Of course I did, because I am super great at following the rules. I never heard back.

But I did use my sweet Google skills to find out when & where they were interviewing. And because I'm unemployed & so bored that I've started RUNNING (willingly), I showed up.

I mean, what are you gonna do? Fire me?

Really, what did I have to lose?

...

They interviewed me.

And they liked me.

And wearing my lucky black pointy-toed pumps totally worked, at least for a first interview.

And I felt like a total badass...until two men under the age of thirty called me "ma'am" at the bank.

It's cool, though. The high from this interview will last at least a week & proves that I'm not a leper.

Excited!