Note: I am not a stoner. Everyone knew that, right? Not that there�s anything wrong with it.

In other news, w/r/t that position that may be coming available here at the cheese factory � and I hate myself for being so superstitious that I hesitate to write about this development here in the di, not least for the way the superstitiousness indicates that I think there�s a something about which to be superstitious in the first place; why can�t I just turn hard and hopeless and bitter and get it over with already? � while I was away last Friday Liz gave my resume to Pam, who�s going to be the hiring manager. Pam came over to my desk and whispered to me that she thinks my rez looks very good and therefore (!) is trying to get the position past the Kremlin as one that may be filled by either an internal or an external candidate, without the internal preference applied. I can�t tell you how much it meant to me, that whisper. Here is where I say Even if it comes to nothing, I am not a nobody because I have been whispered at. It sounds like what happened is that another department opened a similar position internal-only and chose the best of the applicants who nevertheless turned out to be a tool, and now they are stuck with her. The gossip is (read: "Liz says") that it�s hard to find people who have both the technical skills and the writing background � they want technical, marketing, business development, and legal � that the position ostensibly requires, and that since this position would be part of a group that Pam has newly won for her own in a power grab, she has enough of an interest in getting someone to fill it who will make her look good that she may be willing to fight on the internal-external tip. Bwah hah hah, look how pathetic I am, getting breathless over office politics. Anyway. Note that I do say "ostensibly," because by now I have a sense of the gaping gulch between the on-paper descriptions of people�s jobs in this office and what they actually do from hour to hour, and the position in question would be not exactly the kind of gig with which I�d hoped to vanquish this round of temping. But but but, etc. I�m tired, kids. I want to go clothes shopping and to the doctor, I want to replace the Crocodile glasses that I left in my hotel room in New York. If called upon to do so, I would certainly eat some cheese. And therefore, this morning�s bobble notwithstanding, I truly am going to try to turn up the competence around here. A guy in this office needs an Access front end built for him and he went to Pam to see about hiring a temp, and she pitched it to me instead, and I am going to take that freebie as a de facto audition, I am going to build the nicest front end the two of them have seen in a while. I�m also going to ass-kiss without shame; Pam�s on Atkins so last night I made and today brought in a batch of spicy almonds. In the rush of this morning, it was they that I chose to pack over my own lunch. They are in a bowl on my desk.

More good things: one, I found my mother�s class ring, which had been not quite lost for about a month, when I took it off because a rough spot on the back gave me a cut. I knew that I�d put it somewhere for safekeeping but could not remember where � I swear I�m not a stoner � and it was only over the past few days that it had sunk in that the term for what the ring was was Missing. My dread was powerful because, speaking of New York, when I was there my mom and Karen came into the city to have dinner with me, and over the mussels she took my hand and looked at the ring and said how happy it made her to know that I had it and that I wanted to wear it. Oh man, if I�d lost it I would have to cut off the finger I�d worn it on to make a sufficient gesture of abjection. But no amputation will be necessary, since I found it in one of the trays of my jewelry box, the most logical place in the house. And two, my sister sent a new batch of this season�s opaque tights and they are gorgeous. A few hours ago I sent Vanessa mail asking if she wanted to get some drinks at Septieme tonight during my suddenly available evening, and if she hasn�t replied by five or if she doesn�t, I�m going by myself because an outfit no brag this Ingrid-Bergman smashed together with colors that work this brilliantly deserves to be seen in public. Preferably in the company of bourbon.

I�m shallow again today, sorry. Liz is due back from lunch soon and I'm rushing to finish in case the blood thing is a go and I end up spacey and fainting. Wish me luck!