"Us do opposite of all Earthly things! Us hate beauty! Us love ugliness! Is big crime to make anything perfect on Bizarro World!" --Bizarro Code
I kind of feel like I live in my own little Bizarro World because the most important events in my life seem to happen backwards.
I wore a bra long before I had anything to put in it.
I left high school, then got my diploma.
I had a baby, then got married.
When I had my son, my water broke hours before the first contraction.
Frank and I didn’t really get to know each other until after we were married.
(“Hey! Who the heck are you and what are you doing in my wife’s/husband’s body?” Eep! Not the best foot on which to start a marriage.)
Oh, and I eat dessert before the main course. (ok, so I just made that one up - but it sounds pretty good, doesn’t it?)
So continuing the trend, I found an apartment today. I didn’t mean to – it just happened. Yeesh! I don’t even have a job yet.
I want the apartment very much though. It’s perfect for me. Not too big, not too small, very nice, clean, bright (bright = happy), the landlords are pleasant and attentive to the premises, the rent is very reasonable (and the rent includes heat!!! VERY important in New England), there’s storage space in the basement, a coin-op washer and dryer on the premises, the location is great - it’s right off the highway and less than 10 minutes from the Animal Rescue League where I plan to spend a lot of my free time, and (this is the best part) one of my all-time closest friends lives in the apartment right upstairs! We’d be able to run up and downstairs in our pj’s! *squee!* (can you say ‘perpetual pajama party’ three times fast?) So I’d have the benefit of having a close friend who has also been through a divorce on hand for extra support, while still enjoying the privacy of my own apartment. The whole scenario is just chock full of win.
The only drawback (and it’s a rather large one) is that they don’t allow pets. I volunteer at an animal shelter. I am a huge advocate of people saving lives and adopting rescue dogs instead of spending $1,000+ on a purebred puppy, and have been champing at the bit to get a young rescue dog of my own. As badly as I want a one though, it’s not a deal breaker for me. After seeing the apartment and thinking about it for about two seconds (yes, it’s that nice) I decided it’s more important to be in a nice place where the price is right and I feel comfortable and safe, than in a place where I might need to pay more and don’t feel as comfortable, but can have a dog to feel safe.
Why this deep seated need to get a dog? Well I’m glad you asked! Completely aside from the fact that I’m a dog NUT (unconditional love, butt wiggles every time you walk in the door, face-washing-doggie-kisses, warm- furry- tv-watching-snuggle-companions… what’s not to love?), as a single woman alone, living with a pooch would go a long way to making me feel much safer than I would living by myself. However, I wouldn’t need a dog for safety purposes for the time being if I get this place. My would-be neighbor across the hall is a police officer. Yep, just one more check in the ‘chock full of win’ column. Gee, those are really starting to add up. (I REALLY hope the apartment is still available when I'm ready to move!!)
Speaking of the job I don’t have yet… (well, I was thinking about it at any rate) I’m pretty bummed that I haven't heard back from the place I interviewed at last week. They must have found someone more qualified for the job. I refuse to entertain the possibility that they simply found someone they like better. I don’t have lots of experience, and we’ve already established that they can’t really know just how intelligent I am or how incredibly hard I’d work for them, so that just leaves my likeability factor.
Oh, that and my fashion sense. I wore simple, sensible, yet not unattractive square-toed black leather flats, black dress pants, a white, grey and black pinstriped blouse, and a black blazer. I wore medium sized plain sterling silver hoop earrings, kept my makeup simple – a little eyeliner, a light hand with the mascara, barely there blush and very light, neutral eye shadow, with a quick swipe of clear lip gloss. My past-shoulder-length hair was down and blown out – simple but stylishly pretty waves framed my face. I smiled, was warm and friendly while being careful not to cross professional boundary lines, and I thought my answers to their KAH-RAZY questions were pretty darn good. *melodramatic groan* So where did I go wrong?
In light of all that, I’m thinking maybe I should go to my next interview dressed for slopping hogs (complete with dirt-smudged face), put one leg over the arm of the chair, light up a cigarette, hack up a lung (since I don’t smoke that'll be easy), and pull a bottle of JD wrapped in a paper bag out of my purse, offer them a swig, take a hefty gulp myself, wince as it goes down, then slam my hand on the table and say, “Whoo! That's the ticket! Now let’s talk turkey!” Since I’m obviously an orphan from the planet Htrae, maybe this is what it will take to land me a job. Ya’ think?
*Htrae is a fictional planet in the DC Comics Universe. The planet Htrae (“Earth” spelled backwards) is also affectionately known to Superman fans as Bizarro World.
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