April 8, 2003
Lately, my life seems to be on an upswing.
Hell, it's about damn time. I was due. After nearly ten months of shopping a useless degree around to various employers who wanted nothing to do with my creative-writer ass and working as a journeyman instructor for a salary that was *just enough* to qualify me as the working poor, all occassionally punctuated by laugh-a-minute ruined holidays and excruciating teeth trauma, things seem to be going my way.
At least a little bit. I mean, things are not going so my way that I sold a novel to Scribner's, lost thirty pounds overnight, and eloped with Billy Boyd. Not even a brief flirtation with French, uh, Freedom Stewart. (Okay, so I'm going to do this joke to death. Hey, whaddya want from me. I'm proud of it.)
But I did get a job. Bit of an anti-climactic way to announce that, what? (Holden says I have to stop being so self-deprecating, but I can't help feeling that it's all part of my dorky charm.) Thanks, once again, to Scott (I swear I owe that man my first born child. Or at least a really good dinner and all the Guinness he can drink), I have a full-time job with.....wait for it...ready?....you sure?...okay...here goes...with HEALTH BENEFITS! Ta da! Even dental.
Yes, I am now the Director of Recruiting for University C's Graduate Program -- the same program where I teach literature and writing. And don't worry. It's not as impressive as it sounds. I mean, it's a great job. But DIRECTOR of Recruiting seems to imply that there will be more for me to direct than just myself, a computer, and a phone. You know, like maybe other recruiters. Or a support staff. Or even ONE other person who comes in part-time for ten hours a week. But no, for now, I'll be directing just myself, a computer, and a phone.
Which, since this is me we're talking about here, is probably a good thing. I'm not much good at directing anyone other than myself. When I was stage managing Rose Theatre's show in New York, I was such a wimp about calling time for the actors. Every other stage manager in the world would have gone down to the dressing room and announced, "Ten minutes to places" and then walked away and yelled at the lighting guy for whatever and then walked back down to the dressing room and announced "Five minutes to places" and walked away again and yelled at someone else for moving a prop or whatever and finally walked back to the dressing room and said, very firmly and loudly, "PLACES, Ladies and Gentlemen! We're at places" and then ushered every single actor out of that dressing room, loose jingle bells and half-finished makeup be damned -- that way they'd learn their lessons about fucking around and jabbering on about their weekend plans and love lives to each other and wasting time. Meanwhile, I baked them brownies and sewed their loose bells and every night I would go downstairs and ask them very politely and nicely if they "kinda, maybe, coulda, sorta,if wasn't too much of an inconvenience, get into places because that would be a really big help to me" and invariably, every single night, there were three to four people still in that damn dressing room five minutes after I had called places.
So, yeah, it's definitely a plus that I'm not in charge of anyone else. Otherwise, they'd all be still in the lunchroom, twenty minutes after they're supposed to be back, and there'd be no students in the Graduate Program.
Anyway, without having to direct anyone, I'm in charge of drumming up enrollment in University C's graduate program. And no, you're not crazy -- I have nothing in my past employment or educational history that would qualify me to do this. As my new boss, Diane, told me when I went in to talk to her about the job, "You are the strangest candidate. You're completely overqualified education-wise and completely underqualified experience-wise." But, luckily for me, Scott talked me up as being akin the Second Coming and Diane is forward thinking enough to realize that I could learn this job on the fly.
I started last month. (Yes, I know. Nice of me to tell you.) So far, I've done a whole lot of nothing. But I did write two journal entries, so you can see how this Kate working full-time thing will work to your advantage. And I'm so freakin' tired. Going from three years of sleeping in, doing the minimum, and watching hour upon hour of TV to being out of the house 35.5 hours a week, plus the three hours that it takes to get ready in the morning and commute back and forth have wiped me the fuck out. I haven't seen a single episode of Crossing Jordan in weeks. There are completely different characters on there now. I'll never catch up. Where the hell did Jerry O'Connell go? Was Kangaroo Jack *that* successful?
I know. I know. Poor freaking baby.
It's actually not that bad. My boss is awesome. The atmosphere is suprisingly relaxed for a Catholic University where the main attraction is an all-female undergrad department. And I've promised myself it's only for two years, until the MFA at program gets off the ground and I can teach for Scott full-time. Or until Rose Theatre's children's theater takes off. Or I publish a novel. Or....Or....Or....Two years, just two years.
Not the best attitude, but it's what I've got to work with.
7 Deadly Sins and Other, Less Fatal Diversions
Pride:
Envy:
Wrath:
Sloth:
Avarice:
Gluttony:
Lust:
Book:
Tune:
Any man with a microphone can tell you what he loves the most.
Task at Hand:
Quest for Publication:
Some of the clothes I bought to wear to this job are pretty fine.
The me of three weeks ago, who could sleep until noon on a weekday.
God, I forgot how much I hate taking the train.
The Department of Health would condemn our house.
MP3s to listen to on my MP3 player on the train.
The grill at University C makes the BEST grilled cheese sandwiches and curly fries.
Okay, I'll say it flat out without using Billy as a cover. FRENCH STEWART.
April Witch by Majgull Axelsson. Still a great book.
White Stripes, "Dead Leaves and the Dirty Ground":
Figuring out the reading list for this Witchcraft in Literature class.
Total Submissions: 51
Rejections: 23
Acceptances: 1
Withdrawals: 7