Busy, Busy, Busy

One of the pictures of the kitchen.

We've had a busy few days lately, so I haven't posted anything in a while, but allow me to play catch-up. First of all, no, I haven't heard anything about my interview last Monday. They did tell me it could be "one or two weeks" before they got back to me, so I'm not stressing over it yet.

Yesterday was jam-packed: Z was admitted to the Alabama Bar Association in a 3-hour ceremony (!). One of his law school friends who had moved three hours away came over to spend the night with us the night before so he wouldn't have to drive all that distance the morning of the ceremony. It was a very nice ceremony, but it was very similar to a graduation, with lots of speeches, but there was also the justices of the state supreme court, court of criminal appeals, and court of civic appeals on stage. So there was a little more pomp and circumstance than a regular graduation. They all swore the oath and walked across yet another stage. Then the whole group (hundreds of people) had to get in their cars and drive to the supreme court building to have a formal picture taken on the front steps. All in all, it was lovely, and I missed a good deal of work (of course, this and the house closing are the reasons I've been working through lunch for the past two weeks).

I was only at work for about 5 hours yesterday and then I had to hurry over to the new house where we were having the final walk-through with our real estate agent, the builder, and his agent. That was the first time we'd met the builder, and he is about the nicest person ever. You could tell that the house was his baby, and he took lots of pride in it. One of the reasons we love the house is all the little upgrades he included that really add up. After all these years of living in dorms and apartments, we are used to the absolute cheapest materials and people "getting by" with building things as cheaply/unattractively as humanly possible. But this builder has installed very attractive light fixtures throughout, ceiling fans in every room, a really nice master bathroom, high-end kitchen cabinets, high-end kitchen appliances, etc. It really makes a big difference. For those readers in my family, he reminded me a lot of Kevin Garrett. It was uncanny, actually. They got started before I got there because I refused to take anymore time off from work and didn't arrive until 5:15, so I missed just about everything, but he showed Z how to work the appliances, the sprinkler system, etc.

So now we are one day away from closing on the house. Tomorrow I will get off work at 11:00 (thanks to all my at-desk lunches) so I can have time to go by the bank and get a certified check for closing. Then it's off to the attorney's office. After closing, we'll be headed to buy our fridge, blinds for the whole house, a mailbox, and paint. Saturday morning we'll begin painting the kitchen and master bedroom. My sister is coming down to help us, which should make the day more fun. Tomorrow, tomorrow, tomorrow. Tomorrow we are buying a house. We've waited so long to find it, waited to get a deal ironed out, waited for the month of October to pass, and here it is, finally. Sometimes it seems like our whole relationship has been an exercise in patience. Since the day we started a serious relationship was spent touring the law school at Ole Miss, it has been one obstacle after another. One big milestone to wait on after another. It was waiting for that summer to be over to discover which law school he was going to attend. Then it was waiting for me to graduate, waiting for a wedding after an 18-month engagement, waiting to find out where we would live, waiting on him to graduate, waiting on his job, waiting on my job, waiting on the bar, waiting on the results, waiting for him to become a real attorney at work. I never thought myself to be a patient person, but maybe I've been wrong. Maybe I'm more patient than I realized, but I've just been tested more than I'd like. Who knows.

I'm guessing I probably won't have a lot of time to blog in the next several days, so I know you'll really miss me. But don't worry, I'll be back! (All of my readers should join Facebook so that you can see pictures as I post them!)

Lake Life Will Be Great

Yesterday was a great Sunday. After church, Z and I came home, packed a lunch, and went to the lake house to eat on the back porch. It was beautiful – birds chirping, squirrels running around, ducks on the lake. After eating, Z tried to see if any fish were biting in the lake, but it was a little too chilly, I think. Then we raked the back yard (those pine trees better enjoy it now before I chop them down) and decided to go back to the apartment to get the inflatable boat I blogged about in May. You remember, we took it out on the river on Memorial Day weekend and rescued that large boat stuck on the sand.

Anyway, we haven't used it since then because it has been so hot, but yesterday was perfect. We went home, changed clothes, got the raft, and went back to the lake house. (Keep in mind that we do not have possession of the house yet, and there's still a realty sign in the front yard, so some neighbors probably think we're crazy people.) We sat in the backyard and blew up the raft then quickly used the neighbor's pier (we're not actually lake front) to get in the water. We paddled leisurely (more like floated aimlessly) around the whole perimeter of the lake, which took about 2 hours or so. We had ducks following us and a few people in their yard looking at us, but other than that, it was totally secluded.

At one of the farthest points from our house, we noticed a flat sandy area that looked like a great beach to use. So we decided to get out and see if it was someone's yard or just city property. If it was city property, it would be perfect to swim off of (the lake was crazy deep immediately off the shore). So Z gets out, drags the raft onto the sand, and I get out too. We walk up the embankment and see five horses staring at us – it's someone's pasture! They were so pretty, but they seemed pretty surprised to see us standing there. So we got back in the raft and paddled away. We got a little sun, but the water was cold, so it felt great. It was so much fun, but getting out of the raft at the end of our cruise proved troublesome. We don't technically have property on the lake, so we were going to have to use someone's pier or walk up someone's bank (lots of the yards just slope into the water). We haven't gotten a feel for the people who rent the house directly behind us, so even though we used their pier to quickly get in the water, we didn't feel comfortable climbing out onto their pier (Let me clarify – the pier is outside of their fenced-in yard, so I'm not even sure if it's their pier at all, or the city's.) Anyway, we decided we might offend fewer people if we walked out onto a "beach" at another neighbor's yard and quickly walk/carry the raft up the fence line to our backyard. I felt like I was breaking so many rules, but nobody seemed to care too much. Of course when we live there and meet people we're going to ask before doing that again. Another neighbor, the one who talked to us the first time we went to the house, told us we could fish off her pier because she and her husband don't use it, but it's in their fenced-in yard, so I would feel weird about it. (Also, she doesn't even know we bought the house, so she might not even remember us.)

Today is yet another day at work with no lunch break. It's becoming excruciating to stay here. We're not really supposed to eat at our desks, but other people eat in the small kitchen and watch TV. If I can't leave work for lunch, I at least don't want to have to make small talk with coworkers, so I stay at my desk. But since that's not allowed, I eat in about 10 minutes, or as quickly as I can. So all of a sudden I'm not just taking lunch at my desk, I'm really not taking lunch at all. Nine hours seems so much longer than eight… After this week (Z's swearing in and our house closing) I'm never asking for time off ever again. It's not worth it. I've only made up 7 hours of time, but today makes 8 hours. I've got to reach 10.5.

Break

Sometimes, (admittedly more often when I've been watching football alllllll day long) I like to end a conversation or make my exit by clapping and yelling, "Break!"

Lunchtime Lament

I have had to ask for lots of time off recently. A few hours this week for my secret interview, and a lot of hours next week for Z getting sworn in as an attorney and closing on Halloween. Well, I'm not salaried here, so I'm working through lunches to make sure I still get my regular paycheck. Except, when I say "working through lunches" I mean eating lunch at my desk and reading news stories online, because there's nothing for me to do. It's a time thing, not a work-getting-done thing. So, I've sat at my desk through lunch everyday for a whole week now. I still "owe" 4.5 more hours… Ugh…

Oh, wait, I just checked my calendar, and apparently my probationary period of 90 days was up on Tuesday. So that means I am salaried now. But, just looked it up in the manual, and you still only get time off after you've worked an entire quarter with perfect attendance. Seriously? And, no, being salaried now doesn't mean I don't have to check in and out or stop keeping a time sheet. None of that changes. So, you might ask, "What exactly is the difference between being hourly and salary there?" Um, there is no difference. I asked.

But, as referenced in my previous post, last night we had delicious pot roast for dinner, so today I had a lovely roast beef sandwich for lunch, so it was OK. It beats the peanut butter and honey sandwich from yesterday.

Ode to Publix

Last night was a great night. I was dreading it when I left work, because I had a headache and needed to run errands, but it turned out to be very nice. I'd started the crock pot before leaving for work that morning, so when we got home, there was pot roast ready. I cooked some broccoli & cheese, butter beans, and mac & cheese to go with it, and we ate dinner (on time – not after the gym!) Then we headed out to the local cigar shop to pick out some special cigars for my baby brother's birthday. OK, so he's not a baby anymore (as evidenced by the cigars) but he'll always be my baby brother, and today's his birthday. After that, we needed to go grocery shopping, and I just happened to remember that Prattvegas has a brand-spanking-new Publix and that yesterday was the grand opening!

I already love Publix – huge selection, exceptionally clean stores, friendly staff, what more could you ask for – but a brand new one? I was psyched. The brand new Best Buy next door (it's a newly built shopping center with brand new stores everywhere. There's also a JC Penney and Belk that just opened.) was calling our name first, so we ducked in to check out their refrigerators, but their salespeople were a tad too pushy, so we left pretty quickly.

We walked over to Publix where they had really rolled out the red carpet. There were samples everywhere, chances to win prizes, etc. The place was packed of course, but I felt like I was in heaven. Their produce section alone is larger than life, and it just got better from there. It was wonderful because there were lots of buy-one-get-one-free specials and to top it off, they always take your groceries to your car. Yep, I'm sold. I'm one of those people that really love grocery shopping, but I get stressed out doing it. You see, when I shop, I'm thinking about what I'm going to cook and when I'm going to use the items. For instance, when Christmas is coming up and I have to go buy stick margarine, that's not just a boring grocery item because I think about the macaroni and cheese that I take to Granny's house for Christmas. And the Cheerios are not just cereal; they're going into Mama's recipe for Chex Mix that I'm making this year. Grocery shopping is emotional for me, and if I can do that in a beautiful environment, that's even better.

I have a connection with Publix anyway. Let me explain: I sometimes grab a few groceries here and there while I'm at Wal-Mart buying something else (I'm cheap – what can I say?), but when I am purely grocery shopping, I used to be a Food World girl (that was our best grocery store where I grew up). In college, there was a time when my sister had moved to town, and Z was already off at law school. My sister spent a lot of time together, and when it came time for Thanksgiving, my college graduation (December), and Christmas, I did lots of shopping/cooking with her. She shopped at Publix in Alabaster, and we always had lots of fun buying ingredients to go make something. Then, after I got married and was living in Tuscaloosa, I discovered a Publix just past my office. That fall/winter/spring (the relatively cold parts) I only did my grocery shopping at Publix. Picture it: It's cold outside. You rush indoors to escape the wind and are met with complimentary coffee or hot chocolate. Their bakery is working overtime for the holidays, so it's smelling great. The oversized aisles (really – they're huge!) are filled to the brim with wonderful basics as well as the hard-to-find stuff. Everyone smiles at you and asks how you're doing. When you check out, they are friendly and load your car for you. Then when you get home, your husband has the fireplace roaring. I don't care how much you might not like shopping – that's perfect. Anyway, we moved in mid-May, and Prattvegas didn't have a Publix then (hello, it just opened, keep up). So I had to shop at a run-down Food World staffed by bored teenagers. It was OK, but it wasn't "a pleasure," if you will (sorry – I had to). Now that Publix is open, I think I feel more at home down here. The seasons are changing, Publix feels comfortable and familiar, we're about to move out of our cramped apartment that was just a stop-gap for us. It feels like all is right with the world. (If you think that's stupid, then you quit your job and leave your friends and uproot your life and move away from your family and start a new job you hate. Then come talk to me about the little comforts in life. I'll take what I can get.)

Interview with Dept. of Education

Yesterday went very well. After being a bundle of nerves, I left work at about 3:00. I was wearing my suit pants, the camisole that goes with my suit, and a sweater over that. I drove to the large parking lot a block or so away from the building, changed into my suit, calmed my nerves, checked my lipstick, and started my trek. That's sort of a long way in uncomfortable shoes, holding a heavy portfolio. I made it to the building, but had to ask for directions 3 times to find the office I was looking for. I was a little early, so I was able to collect my thoughts and relax a little until the two men were ready to meet with me. I met with the Director of Communications and the Communications Manager, the #1 and #2 respectively. I feel like the interview went very well. I gave good answers that they seemed pleased to hear, I provided witty banter, I brought tons of samples of my work. Who cares if your resume says you've written things if you write like crap? I brought a pretty large portfolio though, and had extra copies so they could keep them. Then I toured department a little. If I get it (big if – there are several other applicants) my office would be flippin' sweet. Seriously, it's about the size of my apartment's living room. All in all, it was a positive experience, but like I said, there are others in the running, so I'm not going to get my hopes up. The work is about 60% media relations, 20% writing/editing for newsletters and magazines, and about 20% video production/miscellaneous. They seemed like very nice, professional people (emphasis on the professional – finally.) Everyone I met was friendly. But like I said, I'm not going to obsess over it. They let me know that there's a chance they will be conducting a second round of interviews. That would not make me happy because I'll be fighting for that job once I'm fired here for missing too much work!

Two, Two, Two Posts in One!

OK, I am tired of the numerical format. Counting my blessings has certainly served its purpose – I spend time each day thinking of all the many things I have to be thankful for, and I'm much less negative. Of course, that comes along with having a job and a paycheck, and the bar exam being over, and the house hunt being over. But, still, I'm not feeling crappy, and I've made my point. So the counting's over.

With that being said, I'm still totally thankful. What is uppermost in my mind right now is the Department of Education. Let me clarify for a second: when they hold exams for a state position, it's open for any state department. Each state department has at least one Public Information Specialist, and some have upwards of a dozen. Some departments are Department of Transportation, Department of Public Safety (state troopers), Department of Art, and the list goes on forever. So you can see that some might just be jobs, but some you could actually be passionate about. Well, I've always been passionate about education, and the Dept. of Ed. just so happens to be the first state department to contact me after my exam results came in. Two days ago the Communications Manager called me, and I was able to have a secretive phone interview sitting in my car at work. The phone interview went extremely well. The manager and I had a great rapport, and I put a lot of stock in things like that. He said my resume was "extremely impressive" and seemed to really like a lot of the answers I gave. He also let me in on a little secret that we examinees are not told: there were only 14 people placed into the top band I am in. From those, he contacted what he called the "top 5." So, that does mean he called 4 other people to interview for the position, but that means he placed me in the top 5! So, we chatted for about half an hour while I was praying no one was looking for me inside. Then I turned my cell phone off, because I don't keep it on at work.

When I left work and turned my phone back on, I had a voicemail from the administrative assistant to the Director of Communications wanting to set up a second interview with me – yippee! Now, of course this was after 5:00 already, so I waited until this morning to call back. When I arrived at work, I sat in my car for a few minutes and called at 8:00. She seemed very nice, but there were only a couple of blocks of times for me to choose from – there were no offers to meet during lunch or at 5:15 after work, even though I'd explained to the manager yesterday that I'm currently employed. So I took an appointment in the late afternoon for next Monday, but I feel guilty about it.

I don't know who made it to this next round of interviews. When I spoke to the manager yesterday (Wednesday) morning, he said there were 2 out of 5 people who hadn't returned his call yet. Perhaps it's only between me and one or two other people. I have no idea. I just know that if this opportunity doesn't work out, the next department has got to work with me a little more because I'll get fired if I keep taking time off to interview.



I forgot to ever blog about the preacher's visit. Here's what I wrote the day after, but I forgot to ever post it:

Last night the preacher and his "posse" came over. It was really only 2 other nice people – I guess big group of people splits into smaller groups to go visiting, and our group contained the senior pastor because he had to talk to me about baptism. We had a lovely visit and got to know one another, and he of course had to ask me about getting baptized. I told him I understand that it is something I will have to do again. He clarified that the church is not judging Methodists or our way of doing anything, but that they are committed to baptism by immersion to symbolize the death of Jesus, the burial (going beneath the water), and rising after 3 days. I can live with that. It was good to get that cleared up too, and not just hear, "This is the correct and only way to be baptized. Period." Then I wouldn't be joining the church. Anyway, I still got emotional discussing it with him, but he really put me at ease explaining that it's just the way they do it, they're not claiming I've been taught incorrectly, etc. That would have greatly offended me. But that didn't happen, and I still like him very much.

Yesterday afternoon Z left for an overnight business trip because he had to be in court in north Alabama first thing this morning. I have two reasons for being happy about this: first, he is a little bit ADD, so having a job where he can travel around the state and not be cooped up in his office does him a world of good; second, he gets reimbursed for his time away, so each month he gets extra pay for any overnight trips he took. That will add up to be a nice, albeit small, bonus.

So I guess I'm the official copy-editor at work. Don't think I get any credit for it. I most certainly am not on any of the mastheads. I'm not even listed on any of our Web sites, even though my title is Marketing Director, and people might need to contact me. Besides that, I've been here for 3 months… Anyway, I now copy-edit all seven of our publications, as well as our internal newsletter. I'm constantly having editors override me and my changes, however, even when my changes come straight out of our company's style guide which was – wait for it – written by the editors. They honestly cannot decide if they want to spell it website (their current preference), web site (our style guide), or Web site (AP style). It's annoying, but I can get over that. The real atrocity occurred a couple of weeks ago, though. I was copy-editing our largest magazine, the only one on sale at book stores, grocery stores, etc. (the rest are by subscription only to those in the industry). As I was reading a several-page story, I became very confused. After flipping back and forth several times, I realized that when production had flowed the copy onto the page, at least one sentence was lost. It simply was not there. No problem – I had caught it on the first round of proofreading. So I marked it, along with a million other corrections, and returned it to production. After the magazine shipped to the printer, I thought all was right with the world. The problem with being the lowly copy-editor who the editors refuse to speak to or acknowledge in any way is that I never get to look at things after I put my two cents in. When I see them again, the magazines are already printed and my changes have either been made or ignored. At my old magazine, shipping was the end. Of course, we published every 2 weeks, so there was no time for changes after the printer got it. But here, the printer ships back another round of proofs and gives us one last chance to check for any glaring mistakes. The head of production (essentially, my job at my last magazine… that causes some tension) asked me to look over it one last time, which was the first time I'd been asked to do that. (I've only been copy-editing for about a month or so.) As soon as I got to the problem page, I noticed the missing sentence hadn't been corrected! I got very upset and showed it to the head of production. She got very upset and showed it to the head honcho. The head honcho, in all her wisdom and level-headedness, decided that it wasn't worth the hundred bucks to ask the printer to fix it in order to salvage our editorial integrity and save our readers the confusion of wondering what they'd missed. I later learned it was not just one or two sentences. It was an entire paragraph. And, to clarify, the first page was actually cut off mid-sentence. So there was an article or adjective or such, no period, then you flip to the next page, and you're reading about a completely different topic. Way to protect our image. I don't know who I am working for, but I know I don't respect them for that decision.