She Loved Her Pets Too Much, starring June Mint.
Her Hair Was Stupid, featuring June NotGardens.
Not With MY Red Pen, You Don't! Guest Starring June NoName, based on the novel Push by Sapphire.
(Hello, Faithful Reader TwelveDays.)
What should my new last name be?
Anyway, I think my interview went well. I think this because two of the three people I met with said, "You have all of the qualifications we're looking for." The other one said, "You totally suck but you're a hottie."
What if that had happened for real? Sadly, I would have been excited to be called a hottie, I think.
Anyway, they said they'd let me know next week, possibly, so I am thinking maybe I'll just hang around the office till I get an answer. What say you? Sane? Maybe I could just start putting up my Barry Gibb posters in an empty cube.
Also, because I know you want me to mention it more, I thought I had finally finished that hutch. I went out and bought new handles for it, I painted it AGAIN (I KNOW!) (nothing in the history of time has as many coats as that hutch. Burlington Coat Factory called, asked if they could buy me out, I have so many coats on this hutch. Joseph called. Wants to trade his technicolor dreamcoat).
(We're talking a lot of coats.)
And those new handles? People have spent less time buying condos in Manhattan than I did selecting the handles for this thing. You'd have thought it was the King of Prussia's drawers I was getting handles for. I have no idea if there is such a thing as a King of Prussia or if that is just a city somewhere.
Also? Last night? After I thought I was done painting? I took all the paint and rollers and trays and brushes and stirrers and cans and can openers and drop cloths and easels and paint chips and tape and berets and French music and nude models and poodles and existentialism and decided to carry it all into the shed at once.
Guess who dropped the paint ALL OVER HER FOOT once she got to the shed? The night before her interview? I look like I have vitiligo.
Then this morning, I DRAGGED that hutch into the dining room BY MYSELF, BEFORE MY INTERVIEW, just because I was so dying to see it finished and in the room it was supposed to be, and I stepped back to admire my work?
I forgot to paint the feet.
I painted MY OWN FOOT, but after the first coat of primer and paint, I FORGOT TO PAINT THE $##@#$$%&#&# FEET. So now I have to go to the $(#(#$*$_@ shed, get what's left of that can I spilled, get the brushes and drop cloth and poodles and French mustache and cheese and PAINT AGAIN TODAY and COULD SOMEONE KILL ME PLEASE?
Will someone remind me not to take on projects in the future? This is why God invented hiring people to do things. This is why God invented crafty folk. This is why God invented my friend Laurie.
Okay, I am going to paint in my interview suit, and I am just saying that to make the humorless among you have 80 fits. Really I am going to walk around my house with my arms crossed, looking out windows like they do on Lifetime, until Ted McGinley shows up.