Darnit, I hate when my husband is right!
Okay, so this is one of the better things for him to be right about.
Right; so, I lost my job on Wednesday, which was completely my fault for being an utter moron. I'd kind of like to get out of insurance anyway, and have hazy, half-formed thoughts about taking an accounting or medical admin assistant program at CDI. You know; down the road, once the savings has been built up again. Whenever that may happen. (Incidentally, went in for a visit at CDI on Thursday, and got all excited about taking one of these things. Then I found out the cost for a ten-month program, and made choking, gagging sort of "hurk!" noise. Soooooooooooo, that's off the table for now.)
Anyway. I've been applying for jobs like a mad thing, living on Workopolis, Monster, Jobserve, and the City of Edmonton job site, and I think my number of submitted resumes hit something like fifty-seven yesterday. The whole way along, I've been whining that no one's going to call me, it's hopeless, etc., and my husband has been kindly advising me to shut up, I'll probably get a call on Monday.
Aaaaaaand the phone just rang. It was a recruitment agency, so it's not a real interview yet, but it's amazing how even a fake interview can bolster the ol' confidence. And the lady said she had something in mind for me. As long as the company isn't about to up and relocate to Stony Plain, or Prince Albert or something, I'm happy. *is still bitter about her hour-and-a-half-one-way commute from the UBC to North Vancouver everyday.
Like I said, there are worse things for my sweetie to be right about.
And now, a message from my cat, who invariably wants cuddles the second I sit down at my computer:
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