Two Write Hands (and two left feet)

Next thing you know, I'll be shaking a fist above my head at teens who cut through my yard.

I got my first paycheck Friday. And after three years of saving for textbooks and parking permits, I decided my bank account could handle it if I went to the mall and bought one of those overpriced, uber-fragrant candles in a jar. Somewhere between Spencer's and the store that only has juniors clothes sizes 0, 2, and 4, I discovered that 28 is old.

Two teen girls were walking in front of me. Both of them were  a twenty-minute tanning session from being sold at Wilson's Leather. (In the interest of full disclosure, I am pale. I don't tan, I get third-degree burns. There's a small chance I was just jealous). These BFFs also had identical hairdos. Platinum blonde on top and a layer of hot pink underneath. They wore their tresses up in twists to show off their hair flair. I was less critical of their 'dos. Skin damage is permanent. Pink hair isn't.

"What? You mean the pink hair?" I heard a young man's voice behind me. It was apparent he wanted to be heard.

"Shut up!" a girl said in response. It must have been his girlfriend then. She giggled, betraying her concern that the girls in front of me would overhear their conversation. "I think it's ugly," she added. The BFFs kept walking. They didn't exchange glances or say a word to each other.

The boyfriend spoke even more loudly saying, "You know who they are trying to be? Gwen Stefani. But they just look stupid."

And that's when it happened. I looked over my shoulder at a teenage couple who appeared to be in mourning and gave them the your-mothers-would-be-so-disappointed-in-you-two look.

About that Law School Waitlist

At work Thursday, I got a phone call on my cell. I looked at the number but didn't recognize it and let it go to voice mail. While I was grabbing my purse and kosher lunch, my phone vibrated again. Whoever it was left me a message.

I walked out to my car, tossed my things in the passenger seat, rolled down the windows, and listened to the message. It was the Director of Admissions at IU Law, Indianapolis. She asked me to call her back. So I did.

"Hi, thanks for returning my call. The reason I'm calling is to see if you're still interested in our school."

It was kind of a surreal moment for me. "Actually, no," I told her. Thinking my response was a little abrupt, I explained about my new job. I told her that I was putting off law school indefinitely. But saying no to her -- without even asking about my spot on the waitlist -- was not the surreal part.

The surreal part is that I am totally OK with not going to law school. I'm OK being an administrative assistant. I'm satisfied typing letters for preschool teachers and copy editing the director's memos. I'm fine with freelancing my nights and weekends away. I'm happy writing articles about potty training instead of stressing over exams and research papers.

Who knew?

I am alive. I'm just in transition.

So, a little over a week ago, I resigned two positions and took two more.The first new job is a work from home freelancing job. The second is a bona fide, full-time, benefits offered, tax-withholding dream as an administrative assistant at a synagogue. I officially start on Monday.

And so, with my employment fate seemingly sealed indefinitely, it is only fitting that another employer called me this morning to ask if I could come in for an interview. I mean, what girl wouldn't want to second-guess herself and wonder if she should've negotiated a little more time to make a final decision?

The second interview would have been with the U.S. District Court. A nice "in" if that attorney stuff were in my future. Oh, and it would've paid like $5-7k more a year. Can't forget that.

Like anyone else, I figure the best thing I can do for myself at this point is rationalize. That is, ask my self only the questions with the best answers.

• Doesn't government work do horrible things to people? Not all people, no, but just enough of them to make the prospect seem risky?
• When your new boss showed you the postage meter in the front office he reminded you to make sure to: "Reset this button, because if you don't well, something horrible happens. I can't remember just what--someone at the post office kills a kitten or something." That joke sparked this mental image and a hearty guffaw. When was the last time you saw a judge on "Law & Order" tell a joke?
• What's so appealing about metal detectors and security guards operating X-Ray equipment anyway?

In all seriousnes, I'm very happy about my new job. But you guys might see a little less of me around here through August and September. I'm moving, starting new jobs, and working on a blog transformation.

Revelation

I sure am busy. When I explain that I have three jobs and still count myself among the unemployed, is that a reflection on the lousy economy? Or the overachiever in me looking for a little more action? Don't answer that.

The big news is that one of my good friends from college, Lisa Kelly, is running for Lieutenant Governor of Indiana! And she asked me to help manage her campaign. Of course, I accepted. She's just kicking off her campaign with Andy Horning, and I've been working on her news releases. So far, the stories are being picked up here in Indianapolis and on political blogs. You can take a look at the coverage, here, here, here, and here. It's a nice start for a third-party candidate.

Since I started blogging, I've worked very hard to keep Two Write Hands apolitical. Through November, that may change slightly. However, I have no intention of turning this into a purely political blog.

On Children

I knew some of you were going to guess that I might be pregnant. I just didn't know so many of you would.

First a little background. For those of you who don't know, before I was Two Write Hands I was the Mad Secretary. I wrote a blog about the woes of clerical work, because I was particularly frustrated with my job as an elementary school secretary. It was the most horrible job ever. Sure a lot of my pain was the result of poor administration and evil parents, but those 734 children in grades K-6 weren't exactly innocent.

I was sick the entire year I worked there. And children don't just spread the common cold, they attack you with stealth mutant viruses that don't have medical names yet. Case in point, for three weeks in January 2005 I had bumps all over the back of my neck (my lymph nodes were the size of golf balls) and red splotches appeared on my skin--but only around my elbows. I was extremely fatigued. My throat was sore. And my entire body was simultaneously chilled and achy. The doctor thought it was mono. Until the test came back negative and he said, "I don't know what the hell you've got."

Oh, and the day that adorable little kindergartner locked himself in the principal's office and screamed for six consecutive hours until we finally reached his mother on her cell phone? I looked at the school social worker, who returned a knowing glance and then said, "If we could bottle our jobs we could make a fortune on birth control. Who needs the Pill?"

So all of that is my way of leading up to this: no, I am not pregnant (or "up the spout" as Ken, my favorite Irish blogger, so delicately put it in the comments of the previous post). I don't even want to be pregnant.

I still like kids, and I still like people who have kids. I adore my nieces and nephews. I love it when my favorite mommy bloggers write about their kids doing adorable, amazing things. I've just been traumatized. And until I recover, I prefer kids that come without the 18-year contract.

So anyway. I promise to write about the news soon, I'm just waiting for a couple of things to link to before I publish the post.