Not all of you knew this, but I spent the last two weeks in the interview process for the position of Dance Director at my old high school. I think it was probably third on my short list of dream jobs. (First: wife, check! Second: mother, will get there soon. Third: Going home to old Chadwick.)
I didn't get it, though. I didn't really know how badly I wanted the job until now. And it's not a matter of applying elsewhere, because other schools are not my school, you know? This desire to teach dance was location specific.
So I'm having a bummer of a day. I slept until 10am just to avoid having to call my parents and tell them that I didn't get it. I found out via a "thank you for making yourself vulnerable you silly deluded girl" note in the mail, which we picked up at 10:30 last night when we got home from a party.
This is a downer of a post, I know. I suspect this is why there's never been a comic about Not-Good-Enough Girl. The superhuman ability to accept rejection isn't all that inspiring.
Oh well. Off to the yarn store to make myself feel better. I need something soft and fuzzy.