Cupcake Day

Came and went yesterday without much ado. I mean, there really is no good way to say, "Today it's been four years since the last time I cut myself!" This year, I didn't even make cupcakes, since there's still half a loaf of banana bread on the counter and I've got big plans tonight to make a dutch apple pie. (We're learning the hard way that we can't buy fruit at Costco.) I didn't even tell Lui that it was Cupcake Day, because I figure the reminder that I ever cut myself would just upset him. But I felt like it bears mentioning somehow.

Yesterday's phrase in our French phrase-a-day calendar was, Je ne suis pas encore rangé des voitures. Which literally means, "I am not yet parked away from the cars," but figuratively means, "I am not giving up on the wild lifestyle yet." Which is true, but maybe not as true as I wish it was. There's this part of me that really wants to go out, meet people, drink, flirt, make bad decisions... as though there were no husband in the picture at all.

I think a customer service position will do me good - now that I've gotten as far as the second interview at Trader Joe's, I'm pretty confident the job's in the bag. It'll give me a lot of opportunities to get attention from strangers, not to mention a sense of purpose to my day. And Pigeon said that working in the grocery store is fun - she worked a scab during the big strike of '03. So not having the dream job can't be all bad. And I do need something, especially now that my old job went up on the facebook marketplace last night, offering full-time hours (I was only allowed 35), $14/hour (I was told that the choir could only afford to give me $11, and that the 12th one was coming out of my boss' pocket), and benefits after 90 days (don't even get me started!).

Man, waiting for the cable guy sucks. I'm afraid to even go pee in case he knocks on the door during those exact 45 seconds and then leaves.