Sunday, April 13, 2008

Post-interview Laziness

I'm generally exhausted after interviews. Even ones like this past one where I was relatively relaxed and the travel time was short and I slept really well in a comfortable bed with delightfully snuggly pillows leave me sleepy.

"I want to go home," I told Friend on Friday night. We'd talked while I waited at the airport and when we couldn't make any sort of decision about weekend plans - other than that it might be good if we did something fun - she suggested I stop and pick her up on my way home.

"Well, hello," she said when Prettiest Cat semi-gracefully leaped up to the couch for attention. "Now that she's here, it's safe to approach?" She looked at me and shook her head before explaining. "Ever since I let her out of the cage, she's been keeping her distance from me." So I settled in, still in my interview clothes and having shown her the tiny bloodstain on my shirt (She wasn't surprised at all - I'm not infrequently spilling something on myself and Mom threatened to buy me a full-body bib when I was at home over Christmas since I typically ended up with coffee down my front in the mornings) and cooed to Prettiest Cat while I smoothed her silky coat.

"You look better," I told her. "Yes, you do. Not nearly so wobbly at all, my love." She purred and flopped down on the couch so I could continue to lavish attention on the regal feline.

"She kind of veers to the right when she walks," Friend noted. "But she's eating and drinking and makes it up and down with the bed and furniture. She goes for blood work on Monday and to the specialist on Tuesday," she concluded and I nodded, feeling grateful that my schedule is light enough to attend both appointments for moral support.

Eventually, we loaded Friend's bags - she brought laundry to do and computer stuff to upgrade her OS - next to my own luggage in the trunk and headed out to my house.

"Are you awake enough to get us there?" she asked when I mumbled yet another response to her thoughts or questions. I made a noise that she could have taken either way, I suppose.

I slept very well, dreaming strange dreams (Friend was trying to win a contest for the best erotic story! Which is something she wouldn't ever do. I, however, might have a shot.) and woke feeling rested and cheerful. I wrote out thank you notes and filled out my expense report and wandered to the mailbox with Chienne after our morning walk. After Friend woke, we decided we'd see Horton that afternoon and selected a tentative time.

"I'm hungry," I decided and thought that a quick trip to Waffle House was in order to grab breakfast before heading to the theater.

"I am," Friend declared after we sat at the counter for 45 minutes before our order had even been called to the single cook (they normally have 2), "amused by the fact that you selected the place because it would be efficient." In contrast, I settled into a glare because nobody was helping him and I was hungry and Horton was waiting!

"We'll have to go to the later show," I decided as noon came and went before our food finally arrived. "We'll go visit your cats first."

"The problem," she noted as she began to pour syrup on her waffle, "is that both our laptops are at your house. So we can't look online for movie times. We'll have to use the phone book."

"What," she cried a bit later while I sat on the couch petting Prettiest Cat while Biggest Cat sat beside us, "did people do before the internet?! I don't know where any of these roads are! I need to click on maps! And the movie theater I want isn't in this book!"

I giggled at her while she flipped between peering at maps and paging through listings, finally throwing up her hands and tossing the yellow pages away. "It's either 2:15, 2:30 or 2:45," she decided. "Something like that." I smiled and nodded and told Prettiest Cat that her human wasn't very good at phone books. She moved toward Friend and cuddled in while Biggest Cat took her spot on my lap. He left after a bit and I got The Cat Who Loves Too Much.

"It's almost embarrassing," I told her while I watched the cat knead and lick my arm with complete focus. "I mean, he's gorgeous and very soft and completely sweet, but this is a bit much."

"It's worse when you're buried under the covers, trying to sleep and thinking you're protected, and he moves aside your hair to lick and knead the back of your neck." I nodded in horrified agreement.

I drove to the theater, we shivered while waiting to purchase tickets (It got chilly down here.), carried out gallons o' soda in two hands and found seats in the center of a row. My flip-flops found a spot on the railing next to her Birkenstocks and we slouched into the tall seats and watched previews. I loved the movie - finding it utterly charming and adorable and sweet. I cooed and laughed and did grab for Friend's arm when I thought the kangaroo was going to burn the poor speck!

"I loved it!" I declared as we moved out to the car again. "When little Katie kept running into the log over and over and how great the Whos were and Horton and how absolutely fantastic that he was."

We stopped at PetsMart ("How many cats do you have?" The cashier asked when seeing our cart.), then Kroger to find items for dinner. Friend grilled chili-lime chicken and I made cheesy potatoes and threw together a spinach salad with red peppers.

"Pretty," I said of the tequila sunrises she made. I drank two while we finished dinner, cleaned up and began to watch Enchanted. The brownies finished baking while it played and we each had a treat while Friend asked why the female villains breasts were always nonexistent or far too large. I shrugged.

The movie was very cute and I found myself rather sleepy after it was over. So I went to bed and fell asleep listening to a Friends DVD. I woke up this morning with a headache and felt grumpy. So I drank some coffee and read a bit and found myself frowning constantly so I went back to bed. I woke feeling not much happier and took something for my head. I didn't feel well enough for church, which is sad. But I slowly grew less pained and more awake. And moderately less of a Thundercloud on my Belly Bear (Dad's name for Grumpy, the CareBear.) After a brownie and a bowl of leftover potato casserole, I feel rather sleepy and relaxed. Perhaps a nap and/or bath are in order. And then there's the return to work tomorrow.

"What if I don't get any of these?" I asked Friend during out long wait at Waffle House.

"Your big meeting is in a couple weeks," she said calmly. "You'll know what's up with the current opportunities by then and the idea of going to Canada to the conference was to network and see what's up with job stuff. So you'll be fine."

She's right - I will be. But the process is exhausting.


ce4460 said...

I'm hungry for some waffles now. Unfortunately, there's no waffle house anywhere near my home. Your so lucky.

PhysioProf said...

I like cheese and potatoes. What's your cheesy potato recipe?

post-doc said...

Comments about food! :)

Waffle House is normally fantastic and I'll miss it very much when I move north. I'm sorry you don't have any close to you, ce4460.

We do any number of cheesy potato casseroles, PP, but my favorite is made with shredded potatoes, cream of mushroom soup (we used a roasted garlic variety last night), sour cream and sharp cheddar. Then it bakes for a bit and is delicious and comforting.

TitleTroubles said...

I rather enjoyed that "In [Katie's] world, everyone is a pony and they all eat rainbows and poop butterflies."

Oh, and the next time that we notice immediately upon entering a restaurant that everyone appears to be hungry and food-less, we should perhaps return to the car. Or, you know, ignore the lesson and stay. I'm still waiting for the steam to actually visibly escape from your ears. Do remember to wake me when that happens.

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