Saccharine Sunday

Image via flickr.

Saccharine Sunday

Image via Pinterest.

YOU GUYS.

I JUST FOUND OUT THAT YOU'RE ONLY SUPPOSED TO HAVE ONE SPACE IN BETWEEN SENTENCES.

You mean...everyone else isn't just lazy?

I LEARNED TO TYPE WHEN I WAS FIVE. THAT'S SEVENTEEN YEARS OF BEING GRAMMATICALLY INCORRECT. THAT'S JUST...I FEEL SO...I CAN'T QUITE...BREATHE....

And don't you dare tell me that caps lock isn't correct, either. I'M A GRAMMAR BANDIT. I DO WHAT I WANT.



Image from an earlier post, but originally from that Community episode where Troy meets Levar Burton. Those eyes just slay me.

Sunday Snark

Happy Mother's Day...for some of us.

Image via Chuck Clendenin.

I've Got Movin' On My Mind

In five days I'll be starting out to live on my own!

Well.  "On my own" might be a bit of an exaggeration, since right now I still have no job and no apartment.  I wish that made me spunky and adventurous, but it will probably just make me a mooching recluse, eating cereal with the shades drawn and watching reruns of "I Love Lucy" in my boyfriend's place while he's at work.  Then when he confronts me, I'll shout, "I'M WORKING ON MY WRITING.  THIS IS THE GATHERING INSPIRATION STAGE" before asking him to please buy some more Raisin Bran and maraschino cherries next time he's out.



Image via The Classy Woman.

School's Out Forever!

Today was my last day of work as a kindergarten teacher.  And you know, I believe unemployment suits me.



Image via Vintage Fine Art Prints.

Sunday Snark

This man knows what's up.  Today is a beach day for sure.



Image via The F Word.

Cinco de Mayo!

I told the kids that I was leaving and that they would be having a new teacher after next week.  Yesterday  I found twelve notes on the podium saying "I do not wut you to go miss tracy" and one that said, "Happy Cinco de Mayo!"  At least one of them has his priorities straight.



Image via Cubiclebot.

Grand Exit

One week from today is my last day of work.  Any ideas on how to make a memorable exit?  Keep in mind, I work at a kindergarten - so no nudity or profanity, or my grand exit may be in handcuffs.



Image via The Chive.

Suspicious...

Since I decided a month ago to move from California to Pennsylvania, I've applied to almost fifty jobs.  Craiglist, Monster, Indeed, numbers scrawled on the bathroom walls in bus terminals...I'm getting desperate.  But as the weeks went on and I failed to receive a single response, I descended gracefully into despondency.

Not all swoons occur near fainting couches.

Well, I thought, it will be easier once I'm actually able to put a Pennsylvania address on my resume.  Everyone knows companies don't like to hire out of state.  And with that small comfort I trudged back home, weary from the dust and rejection of another day pounding the virtual pavements.

What.  So I like trudging.

Last night, however, I decided on a whim to change my cover letter just slightly.  Instead of listing my reason for relocating as a desire to be near family or loved ones or even my boyfriend, I lied and wrote, "I'm moving to Pennsylvania to be near my fiance."

Suddenly, this morning: three responses in my inbox and one voicemail!  I don't think that's a coincidence.

"WHAT A BITCH GOTTA DO TO GET A JOB THESE DAYS?!" I'd cried to the cold, unfeeling universe.

"Put a ring on it," the universe replied, not even looking up from her Emory board.

Speaking of which, I guess I'll have to find a ring for all these interviews coming up.

Too much?

Images via Nonnie's Notes, Littie Loves, Staggered.