About Bloody Time!

Two more weeks, and it'll be the floor of my flat you see in these videos. Ali and Foxy are coming and I can't wait. By the way, can you hear that little exclamation at about 19 seconds in, right before the baby drops her head? This is about as much sound as Ali makes when she sees a problem. It could be the baby dropping it's head. Or it could be a dump truck about to t-bone your Jeep. The level of urgency doesn't matter, the sound is the same. It's just one of those things. And of course, even thought it's a little sound, Foxy senses that Ali is stressed so she starts to cry. My baby isn't stupid. Ali can be so mean to Foxy, she calls her a turtle because she can't move as quickly as some people might like. But she's mean in a loving way.

I finally started working again, and this time it's for real. Temping is for suckers! Ali couldn't be happier. Maybe now she'll stop sending me photos of a sad Foxy every day with captions like "I do not wants to starve" and stuff like that. This job rocks: no dragon ladies, just really upbeat go-getters. People always tell me I shouldn't get too excited about jobs, but this is the kind of job I've been waiting a long time for. I nearly went broke waiting for this one, so I'm super happy that I got it. When the time is right, I'm hoping to buy in. I can't say for sure, but I think Ali had a lot to do with me getting this job.

I would go out tonight and get stupid, but after what happened last time, I've reconsidered. I'm babysitting tonight. Uh huh. I popped by Orange Peel's and J's last night and helped them put their new bed frame together, and helped myself to a plate of enchiladas. Luckily, J had all the right tools to put the bed together. I thought I'd help them out a little bit more, and agreed to babysit for those two while they attend a friend's function. I've got to get a little bit of practice in before Foxy gets here anyway.

Last week, Bobby threw a bit of a party and for once he didn't ask me to serve drinks. He said it was family and friends only which meant that it wasn't a client party with canapés and champagne, and which meant I wasn't getting paid. I brought a bottle of Fat Bastard chardonnay for sharesies, but there was already so much on hand that nobody tried my grape except me, and Bobby actually sent me home with another bottle altogether. Bobby only drinks reds apparently. Who knew? Anyway, the Fat Bastard was nothing to write home about.

Even though it wasn't a client party, Bobby did ask about my former CEO. The ringmaster at the last place I worked drives a Maserati and is good friends with Bobby. He takes his Mazzer to Bobby for service and they are part of some club together. The CEO was actually a really nice guy, so I didn't mind when Bobby brought it up. He said that the guy was surprised to hear that I'd been let go, and felt bad that he never got a chance to wish me luck personally. No hard feelings. That guy was awesome to work for. Unfortunately he let someone else run the accounting department.

One more thing that seems to be going my way: The tailor is running late on my order. I called just to see what's up, only because I don't want another Café Press incident on my hands, and he was so apologetic. I told him not to worry. As long as it doesn't take too long, everything will be fine. I know what's taking them so long. It's kinda my fault for ordering special collars. I feel a little stupid now about spending all that money on suits and stuff because at the new new job, it's pretty casual but I don't think I could get away with wearing my lemon capris.