Clean Apartments

Yesterday Katie and Nathan signed a lease on an apartment ten minutes from here, a little closer to work, and closer to church too. Katie cleaned last night for a while. She worked on the kitchen this evening; I worked on the bathroom.

Katie cleans. Whenever she leaves an apartment, it is in better shape than when she took possession of it. It is frustrating to leave an immaculate apartment and then be docked on your security deposit because the apartment manager just assumes that he has to have a cleaning crew come in whenever there's a change in tenants. I have no idea what the cleaning crew did at their last apartment, but they obviously didn't even open the cupboards because Katie & Nathan were charged for destroying (or losing or stealing) an item that was left sitting in the cupboard.

Likewise, this new apartment was cleaned before Katie and Nathan took possession. And it wasn't bad. But there's the grunge on the refrigerator gasket. And caked-on soap drips on the underside of the bathtub soap holder. And it makes me shudder to think of the thick greasy goo on the ceiling fan in the kitchen. I don't think of myself as a good housekeeper. Adequate. Above average. But not consumed with perfection over our cleanliness level in the house. I suppose I have spots in the house that other people might be horrified at while I am blind to those problems. I suppose that the apartment's filthy spots might be something that only Katie and I care about. But still....

If I'm living with my own dirt, that's one thing. But moving into a place with somebody else's grunge, that's a different story.

Birthday Party

Wow! There are balloons that need to be hung for the celebration! There was a chocolaty spatula to lick a few minutes ago! There are streamers on the ceiling! This is a good day!

But I Really Wasn't Job-Hunting

Cashing a check at the bank this morning, it came up in casual conversation with the clerks that I was applying for a job at the library. They were thrilled to hear I was considering a part-time job. But I'm not supposed to work at the library according to the gals at the bank. I need to apply there. They neeeeed someone. They pushed an application on me. They didn't want me to leave; they wanted me to fill it in right then, wishing that the manager could hire me today.

What's going on????

I wonder how long I have to wait before I know whether I'll get an interview with the library. (Hours and pay at the bank and library are fairly similar. A little less on-your-feet time at the bank. The library doesn't have incessant background music. The bank has more windows.)

Maybe it's time to get a job?

Psalm 69:11-12

I became a byword to them.
Those who sit in the gate speak against me.
I am the song of drunkards.

If the psalms belong in the mouth of Christ [and by the way, they do] then it is interesting to see these verses in light of the cursing and swearing and foul language that permeate our society. Jesus' name IS used as the song of drunkards. It IS a byword.

Tank-tops and Shells

It is supremely unfair that the time of life when a woman's hormones force her into sleeveless shirts is exactly when her upper arms are getting floppy and her elbows are getting wrinkly.

Writing a Resume

Checking out of our local library recently, I noticed the poster that said they're hiring. Although I need income, I haven't been looking too hard for a job, seeing as how I already have a job teaching the kids. But I've kept my eyes open, just in case the perfect job pops up.

And this is it! The hours don't interfere with chapel or church or choir. The job is in a building filled with [get this...] BOOKS. [Be still my heart!] The pay is decent; the hours are enough to make a difference to our budget but not too much to prevent all my frugality measures of cooking and gardening. It's the kind of job that requires attention to detail, organizing books and labels, and other tasks that fit my personality well and that I'm good at. It's close enough to bike, or even to walk if absolutely necessary. And the 'customers' are my neighbors who have willingly come to learn something! How cool is that?!?

So this week I've been learning about resumés and cover letters. It's so hard to tout yourself; I think the traits the employer is looking for should be taken for granted. I mean, it's a sad commentary on society that an employer has to specifically state that employees should have a strong work ethic and be friendly to the customers. So I need to find a way to get across to potential employers that I'm the kind of employee that they will be thrilled they hired. How do I know which desirable characteristics are the ones to list, and which good characteristics must go unmentioned? If I'm brutally harsh in my self-evaluation and still recognize that this is a job I'll be superb at, how do I differentiate myself from the people who think they're marvelous at everything and say so in order that they might win the "pick me! pick me!" game.

Brown

I bought knee-socks to go with my skirts because I'm tired of spending money on hose and then having them run. Knee-socks are cheaper. One of the pairs of socks in the recently-purchased package was brown. So this morning, getting dressed for church, I pulled on the brown socks to go with my brown Birkenstocks.

One day. One short morning. I haven't worn brown for years. And in one morning I'm already tired of brown.

I think I got too much brown in the 70s. Enough brown to last a lifetime. Gimme blue, red, black, and white, please!