She ain't got that swing
I have a job offer. I have a big meeting with the hospital director tomorrow morning to determine my fate and (at a minimum) the next three years of my life. I have put together a fabulous portfolio of my work in a nifty green binder for the occasion.
I have started smoking again, officially. Cigarettes are my downfall as well as my longest lasting relationship to this point.
I bought plane tickets to Boston for the last week in January. I am sorely in need of the vacation. It will be my first whole week off in over two years. While I know this is true, I don't really know what the magnitude or meaning of it is.
I am making a feeble attempt to diet. I began this job 35 pounds ago and would like to leave the weight with the job when I go.
Things should be fine. I have good friends around me who want to spend time with me. I have a great job prospect. I'm making good money. I have nice things. Yet, I find myself feeling like crying and crawling into bed for a year at least 3 times a day. It's that unpleasant heavy-hearted feeling.
*Sarah*
