Now would be a really super time for my brain to come back from the little vacation it's been on for the last six months. My job application for the college in Austin is going to arrive at their Human Resources department in no fewer than SEVEN pieces. The first four are letters of reference. Why are there four and not three as required by the job posting? Because Becca is a little stressed out and overreacts when an email about a letter of recommendation goes unanswered for more than three hours so calls another professor who says "No problem, I'll have it in the mail tomorrow" even though it is Saturday (I could kiss you on the mouth for that Dr. D, just kidding, but not really) and about 45 minutes later the original professor sends you an email saying he'd be "Glad to do it!" (Thank you Dr. P) so now I have an extra letter but am too mentally exhausted to actually do anything about it. The next two pieces of mail that will be received for my application are my undergraduate and graduate transcripts (which hopefully won't reflect that I failed one of the classes I'm applying to teach the first time I took it but they probably will so I'll need to come up with some kind of "growing experience" crap in a hurry if against all reason I am offered a job interview by this place). The last item to arrive (making the first six pieces of mail all the more mystifying) will likely include my actual application, cover letter, and teaching philosophy statement (which, don't get me started on that damn teaching philosophy statement). All I have to say is thank goodness I'm applying at a liberal arts program because engineers would have a heart attack if they saw how disorganized I was. I pointed that out to my Mom who said "Ooh, I'll buy you your first pair of Birkenstocks! Can I have all your unused razors?"
They say when you are pregnant you are eating for two. That is a lie. You are only allowed an extra 300 calories per day, which is five Fig Newtons and a glass of milk (for most, for me it is an entire plate of cheddar fries with ranch and a milk shake). I think the real truth is that you are using your brain for two people and Charlie has a heck of a lot more important job to do than me--he has to grow LUNGS. Which means when it comes to remembering that there are groceries in the car and writing goofy statements about my teaching philosophy, I am out of luck. Oh well, Vince Guaraldi's "A Charlie Brown Christmas" is playing on my iPod and now it is impossible to sound angry in this post.
I'm off to make a basket of muffins for the people at the registrar's office who somehow have already sent my transcripts to Austin despite my inability to get the request in any earlier than YESETERDAY AT SEVEN PM.