The portfolio review went very well despite my anxiety and lack of motivation. I had one of those out-of-body experiences where the words are coming out, from where I am not sure. It was comfortable and not at all like being in front of a firing squad which is how I envisioned it. My advisor joked that I should get the last license and I said I'm not buying one more damn binder. We laughed. She encouraged me to keep looking for the right job because there's one out there for me. I said, yeah at about the 27th parallel in a raccoon camp by a big lake where the ice doesn't go out until the 4th of July. Ha. I crack myself up.
I learned to text message yesterday. I'm not very good and it takes me a long time to write anything. My theory about that, as I've said here before, is that you can't let technology pass you by or pretty soon you can't set a digital clock or program a VCR. Regis set my phone to do T9 which I don't get at all. I type W and the phone types X. What's up with that? I love that text is a verb now. I texted, he texted, we all text. It's the growing edge of language as Harry Foster used to say.
Regis and I sat in the yard after work but the little seed things from the birch tree drove us nuts. Every time we came back int he house they were all over us and inside our clothes and in our hair. We finally hid out in the porch. It's a beautiful day here and would be perfect for sleeping on the porch if we had a bed there. I think we're too old for couch sleeping much less floor sleeping.
Since I woke up at 3 this morning, I can barely make it to bedtime. If I had any gumption, I'd scan my new license but that would involve learning another new thing this week and I think I've reached my limit. Tomorrow. I took a picture of the weird directional signs in Armstrong Hall but I don't know how to send a picture from my phone to my computer either.