Last weekend I was seriously stressing about how insanely high my credit card bill had gotten. I knew paying rent and COBRA wouldn’t be a problem, but I’d be dipping into my savings way more than I liked (and oh how the savings dwindle when you are unemployed.)

On Tuesday evening I got the email: “We are prepared to make you the following offer.”

On Friday I had a job. Not only a job, but one that was a promotion from the one I’d originally applied for. The CEO was impressed, they said. (Please note: I now work for a very, very tiny company, one even smaller than The-Job-That-Wasn’t 2.0. But hey, it’s still a cool thing to impress a CEO enough to get you out of the assistant trap and get you into a job title that won’t make you self-conscious to hand out business cards.)

So Friday night I couldn’t stop smiling, and I made the first level of the pies for my impending dinner party, and when The Roommate got home, we just hung around, occasionally exchanging bits of commentary, and yeah, I know there’s been pseudo-drama with us that’s mostly my jack-asinine behavior that’s at fault, but it is nice that we can just “be” when we’re around each other. And then we made an amusing trip to Target Saturday morning.

Michael came over around noon on Saturday, and I had not seen him in months so it became a very fun session of cooking, reminising, catching up, babbling, and yes, lets talk about how Rachel loses her gaydar completely when a Libertarian is involved. Michael is one of the most gregarious people I know and he will engage anyone in just conversation or whatever. So while we were cooking and talking, The Roommate was putting together chairs (wins more Roommate points for engaging my dinner party that logistically was going to be a mess although a few expected people didn’t show, so it would have worked out) and I think Michael actually forced Roommate into having a good time. Which I did not know was possible. The Roommate does not have fun.

And then – successful party, I think. The food wasn’t as good as it could have been, I forgot to put out cheese with the chili, and the salad just never got made. But we all just hung around the table, and people laughed a lot, so is that a good sign of a successful gathering? I think so. Plus, it was also an impromptu celebration of my new job.

And then, I had a date, of sorts, on Sunday. This is a change from my usual mode of boy drama. This boy has told me straight out that he likes me, told me he thinks I am “beautiful and intelligent”, and held my hand in public. He made me feel adored, which made me realize – the recent boy I like-liked never made me feel like that. He was very good to me in many ways, from the pajama pants to the pancakes, (and one time, in the midst of the worst panic attack I have ever had he made sure I was safe and protected). And to him, I owe the roof over my head. I will always be incredibly grateful to whatever bizarre arrangement the roommate and I have. But I get his point now. It has been so long since I dated and I am so used to emotionally unavailable men, for whom you have to fight for an ounce of their attention. I forgot that sometimes you can just be yourself, and a boy will like you and pay attention to you.

This isn’t going anywhere yet. It hasn’t even started. But he held my hand in public, and he walked me to my doorstep and kissed me tonight, and he asked me if he could see me again soon.

And of course I said yes.

I’m back!

Vacation was…ok. There was, unfortunately, some stress involved, such as running around a tiny beach town, trying to find a) somewhere to print something from the internets b) a notary public c) a UPS/Fed-Ex store.

But now I’m back, and I have news. Originally, I was going to break this down into a few posts, and tell the tale of how this came to be, but really, I don’t have the patience. Maybe I’ll go back and write it just for myself at some point, but today, I’m back at work and I’m tired, and I have a ton to do, so without further delay:

I got a job in DC. I’m moving there in less than three weeks.

I merged onto the highway, playing Dar Williams’ “Traveling Again” at 9:01 this morning. It took a phone call to Trenton and a minor heart attack, but it all worked out. From my past month or so of entries, you may conclude that I am a neurotic worrier. However, the amount of obsessing I did in anticipation of today was paltry compared to what I would do before I was therapied and medicated. So I’m going to chalk it up as an accomplishment.

My desk is a mess and I have a lot of laundry to do. And it’s too bad my nails always take the brunt of my anxiety because they are as ragged and torn up – the better to horrifying my fellowship interviewers next week. I should wear my I <3 Hank Rearden shirt to the interview.

I have nothing to report. My life is still boring. After all the waiting and all the times I’ve mentioned that my life is on hold until November, this is mildly surreal. It’s going to take some getting used to.

Don’t they say that humans have 6-8 dreams a night, or something ridiculous? You just don’t remember 95% of them? I’m too lazy to look it up. Anyway, my second to last dream before waking (the last one was Little House on the Prairie related) was that I got the interview in DC. 

My dreams have been oracle like before, so I was thinking about that while I was getting ready.

And then I checked my email before my ride got here, and there was a “Rachel, come in for an interview” email. It had been sent at like 6:00 am, probably right around the time I was actually having the dream. How freaky is that?

I have an interview in DC in 2 weeks! And they are paying for my train fare and accomodations. And since I’ll be in DC anyway, I’m going to stay the weekend and hang out with Keithers.

So at least SOME of the shopping I’ve been doing lately has not been for naught. Now I have plenty of job-interview outfits to choose from! I am definitely straigtening my hair.  Obviously, I have my priorities in order.

Now, I’m very psyched about this, but I also need to reign in some of my excitement. This is still a LONG process. I will be interviewing with at least 6 different people at the foundation. Even if that goes really well, I will still have to interview at 4-5 of their partner organizations. And you know what? I could be FANTASTIC, and as a result of circumstances (bad economy being one of them) they may not have a placement for me at any of their partner organizations.

So I don’t want to pin all my hopes on this, even though they clearly already are.  To say nothing of all the obsessing that will go into the possibily-moving-to-DC aspect of this.

But I’m afraid that my hopes are already there.

“Tomorrow afternoon I will write an inquiry as to WTF is going on with Libertarian fellowship. I figure their office is closed today for Veteran’s Day.”

I wrote that sentence and some other babblings, and then I got an email scheduling a second phone interview! My suspicion is this means I was on the brink in terms of “Should we bring her to DC or not?” but this means a second chance.

Now I really wish I could get my hands on some xanax before the phone call to keep me from rambling and babbling senselessly.

Had I not gotten an email yesterday evening regarding the phone interview, I would have been able to go for the Trifecta of Ashlee Simpson Lyrics (finishing it off with “by Wednesday, I can’t sleep” to accompany “Monday, I am waiting/Tuesday, I”m fading”)

I have a phone interview scheduled for next Monday. And now I feel positively silly about the whole thing, because it’s just a phone interview. That’s no where near as good as an in-person interview! (They are not doing in-person interviews until AFTER phone interviews have been completed) I am not worried about the phone interview itself so I can now move on to waiting to hear on whether I will get an in person interview.

I saw Just-in-Case last night. He gave me a ride to the Tuesday meeting. Afterwards, he was driving me home and we were chatting and he brought up the “…girl that I just started dating.”

Typical. But my reaction is mild disappointment, bordering on “oh well.”

This probably sounds pretty minor (and repetitive, since I have gone on and on about the fact that I like my job.) but I just had my Official Employee Review this morning. Despite the fact that things have gone awesomely lately, I was fretting about it because, well, last time I was sat down for an Official Review I got fired.

Anyway, I had nothing to worry about.

It is crazy to me that at this time last year, I was spending most of my lunch breaks quietly crying in a concrete office park because my job then gave me so much misery/stress/anxiety that I was reduced to tears on a regular basis. I used to not be able to eat on Sunday nights because I was so anxiety ridden about having to deal with my boss on Monday morning.

It is very nice to be able to have a lunch break like a normal human being, instead of crying in public, because I don’t cry very prettily.

Job offer from non-profit came through. Salary = my old one x 1.5. Excellent benefits. Tuition assistance. 4 weeks vacation. All Jewish holidays off (there’s a lot of them). Pleasant working environment. This is definitely the “something better” I quit my job for.

I am quite pleased with myself

Me: I got the job!
Jill-IAN: Good, now you can stop being psychotic!
Me: Uh, that’ll never happen
Jill-IAN: Oh yeah

I had my last final yesterday afternoon. I am signed off to graduate. I am DONE with grad school. 

An MA, in 9 months, just days after my 24th birthday? Means I have the whole rest of my life to do things completely unrelated to my over-educated degree!

My thesis proposal was approved.

It was approved by a man who is an expert on Schmitt. I’m working with a rock star.

I’m happy to report the revival of my cellphone!

And I’m reposting this, because it needs to be said again, even though I only posted it a month ago.

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I have officially moved up in the world. I have gone from not even having a cubicle/nameplate to having my own giant office, with printing privledges (a huge deal at UChicago) and a wall of windows. I love being a research assistant. Of course about 1/5 of the time I still have to the do the “organizing class materials” part of the job (as I wrote Former-Favorite-Professor “I am back to wrestling with copy machines”) but it’s mostly actual research oriented and will look splendid on my PhD applications. Also, money is good.

I got my housing application approved! I have a small studio about a 10 minute walk from campus. The rent is a little more than I was anticipating, but I think I can manage it, because my loans got approved too!

The majority of the time schedules for Fall 2006 are online, so I am making masochistic fantasy course schedules and dreaming about my thesis. I can’t believe that by this time next year I’ll have a Masters degree. Six more weeks till I move to Chicago, so nice to know that I have some place to live.

And that means my two bedroom in Astoria is up for grabs. Anyone need a really cheap apartment in the best neighborhood in NYC?