Another rambling post

My boss was such a jerk yesterday. He totally chewed me out in front of a couple of other folks for something small. We’re all on a learning curve here, people! He apologized later but we are not in agreement about the nature of a new role I’ve taken on. At this point, there’s no way for me to win, and I don’t care enough to fight it. One day at a time.

On the up side, I got some praise from some folks my boss deems important on the very thing he flipped his lid on. These expectations do not compute. It’s some consolation to know that I’m not the only victim here.

Library school here I come!. . .or writing school. . or j-school. . .wait. . .
I reached out to my most recent writing teacher about a recommendation. He very graciously agreed, then said, “Of course what you should be doing is pursuing writing,” though he’s ambivalent about MFA programs (and also forgot I already have one).

Then he wrote that he himself wishes he had gone to journalism school, and *that* got my head spinning. Shoud I? Should I? Prolly not. Still I emailed a former classmate who I know is in j-school and want to pick her brain.

My teacher also said that he mentioned my memoir to his new class, not the subject – not that I would have cared – but the structure and imagery. I’m beyond flattered. Amazing how a little bit of external validation can do wonders on the ego.

I signed up for another memoir class, not his, a shorter one. Starts in October.

Boys on the side
So I have a date tonight. Erp. He’s quite a bit older than I am, though he looks pretty young.

And that supercute boy wrote me again! He was like, “Hey, what happened?” and asked if I still wanted to get together. His last message was from a week ago, and I didn’t answer. In that email I had asked if he was born the year of the monkey, and in his reply he didn’t even answer, just asked if I wanted to get together, which irked me.

This time he signed off, Monkey Man. So he *did* read my message! Sure, why not? It’s just a date.

1 comment

  1. Haha, when you call him “supercute” and write of his disinclination to zip off anything in email, he reminds me of the goofy kids in their early 20s I’ve corresponded with back in the day… they didn’t work out….

    But I’m learning that older guys can be just as goofy and tight with their words. It’s a bit of a constant battle with me and the boy for him to appreciate my love of words and my small appreciation for arts.

    That said, I hope your date’s fun! =)