Nervous Anticipation

I have an interview today. At this early stage in my experience with them I am not a fan. I wonder if that is the sort of thing that ever changes? I often wonder, will I ever like public speaking? Or will it always make me feel performance anxiety? (I just want to play around with the potential of text color. How cool is that? No links, just color). I'm also not a fan of the potential a week or so after my interview getting a call to inform me they've filled the position (with someone else). I obviously have some strong codependency issues.

I've been experiencing a lot of anxiety about money too. In particular my ability to earn money in a manner that I enjoy. Plus I have this fear that the van is going to die on the highway, and I can't afford to repair of replace it, or even if it doesn't die it's going to continually need expensive repairs which will deplete my meager earnings and hinder my ability to accomplish other things that involve financial investments... like I won't be able to get my laptop, or photoshop, or ever move out! I'll have to succumb to some overtaxing full-time job that deprives me of my will and spirit... this is all over dramatized, but there are moments when it comes on that heavy. Then I try to remember there are always options, maybe not the ones I was hoping for, but there are.

(the page nabbed my rubber band bucket. No biggie, I shouldn't be needing it urgently). But why did she yoink mine?

So I've been holding off on putting the pink highlights in my hair until after the interview at Library Headquarters. The logic being trying to appear as professional as _I_ am capable of. But part of me feels like that is deceitful, if I get the job, showing up with new pink highlights. But I don't think they are exactly scandalous. I guess I don't want her to get the impression that I am too young for the position, I believe I would be judged inaccurately because of them. I have complete confidence that they would be satisfied with my work.

There was a man in here earlier today with Johnny cash singing softly from some where on his body. It was some what unreal. I just wanted to know what sort of device he was carrying that was doing that. I asked him, but he didn't really answer, I think being posed the question in a library stimulated a different direction in his thoughts- mainly oops. He couldn't hear it. Then he went on a mild mannered diatribe about the physical casualties of age, hearing, eyesight, wrinkles (he described them as many, many wrinkles all over your face). Was he actually carrying a mini tape deck with a speaker- or something else of the sort? It was the Johnny cash song with the word "fire" in it... I only have a faint recollection of the tune and that is the only word that comes to mind... Spittle. (I just got my rubber bands back, hee.)

I started an art project yesterday that I had to postpone because I ran out of spray paint. Maybe I should call it a craft, or a bastard of art and craft? I took a piece of branch that came off one of our trees after an ice storm and "planted" it in a pretty ceramic pot, I'm spray painting it pink and I'm going to make a spattering of flowers at the tips of the branches. I've got a little nook in my room I think it will fit into nicely. I did it in the shed, even with a mask on the smell was noxious, I covered most everything with drop cloth, that pink spray paint sure travelled, I really didn't think the spray would reach as far as it did! My mom was right. If I could have concentrated the spray simply on the area I _wanted_ it on I probably would have finished the job. The plastic around the base of the tree out by two feet at least was totally pink.

My god! I've had virtually nothing to do for hours! An occasional patron checking out... I keep putting my head down, it reminds me of being at school, bored.

I made myself a sandwich for lunch today and I couldn't finish it because something about the combination of tastes resembled the smell of farm animals, I felt like I was eating that smell, slightly unpalatable... After the bout with food poisoning I have this heightened fear of it happening again _soon_. I keep reminding myself that it isn't likely, but anytime something tastes off that is my first thought. Although the crap that was guilty didn't taste off at all.

I just remembered I have an unfinished post saved as draft. I think I'll visit it. Maybe even post it.