two things

one: no word yet on whether i've got the job. i got a call yesterday from their staffing consultant; she said they hadn't decided yet how they were going to proceed, but that they'd probably be making a decision today.

two: i'd really like to change positions here on the couch, but iceberg is sitting on me and he's so cute i can't bear to oust him.

thing three

my latest anxiety symptom is difficulty swallowing; things seem to get caught in my esophagus and stick there. this occurs at random, and is most irksome when it happens while i'm trying to choke down any of my thrice-daily handfulls of pills.

i'm getting awfully tired of this stuff.

prezzies!

i just got a package, containing a gift from Brian. the gift itself is so beautifully wrapped that i don't want to open it. i'm finding myself seized with a desire to save the surprise for the solstice, but i'll have to find somewhere to hide it from iceberg meanwhile, because he'll eat the ribbon otherwise. (he's already investigating the packing materials, which apparently look extra tasty. he's a very peculiar little cat.)

as an added bonus, the box it came in, filled with foam peanuts and bubble wrap, is just the right size to send my cameras to dglenn!

oh, never mind saving it for the solstice. ( i have to know what's in the box... )

grrrr

why don't they call? i can't handle the suspense. i feel literally like someone is hammering a stake through my chest. my heart is pounding. i can't concentrate on anything.

for the love of all that's unholy, why don't they call?

hmm.

decided to make soup for dinner, rather than the intended roast pork, due to continued swallowing difficulty. am quite disappointed so far with the mushroom and pumpkin soup recipe; as written, the pumpkin overpowers all the other flavors in the soup. have added additional veggie broth and am soaking more porcinis also. considering other possible additions -- sage, perhaps? i wish i had another leek. it would've also done well with some white wine to deglaze before adding broth.

should have trusted self; instinct said too much pumpkin, but between discomfort in chest and extreme anxiety over job not yet secured, mind is clouded and unreliable.

is there anything sadder than an unsatisfying batch of soup?