Fourth-graders, dude.

Fourth-graders. That’s who I’m going to be interviewing with next week. Or auditioning with, rather. They’re turning me loose on a classroom of fourth-graders for 40 minutes to see what I can do.

Fuck.

Some other people called, too…

They called on Thursday, in between my groups, almost causing me to lose my shit for the rest of the day. Remember the interview I thought I bombed? Yeah, I guess they want me to come in for a SECOND INTERVIEW.

Apparently they’re going to have me plan something to do with one of their groups of kids. They told me the name of the school, but I was so queasy I don’t remember which one. I should get more details sometime soon.

Something occurs to me: they mostly work with elementary and middle school populations. Hmm. This…huh. Yeah. This is going to be illuminating.

anyone tired of hearing about my life yet?

Too bad!

From an e-mail to my friend Ryan in which he asked me, simply, “How’s life in Chicago?” That’s what you get for asking…

###

“Good…okay. I applied for a job at this place called Urban Gateways (www.urbangateways.org), and much to my surprise, actually got an interview. I knew my application fucking ROCKED but I just didn’t think I was cool enough. They haven’t called me back yet, though. I sorta felt like I bombed, even though my whole BODY was like screaming out, ‘CAN’T YOU SEE HOW PERFECT I AM FOR THIS?! WE ARE SOUL MATES!!’ But as Kelsey said, ‘This job is so not ready for a Rachel.’ God bless her. I am looking for other things. Every time I see a plane flying overhead I involuntarily rise onto my tiptoes. I write sometimes, but I often go out salsa dancing when I should be writing…or sleeping. I don’t sleep enough. I feel guilty way too often, especially for a Protestant. I feel like something really great is about to happen…or something really scary, that will later become something really great. I’ve gone to a couple really really cool poetry event things lately. I think I’m gonna do more of that. I meet strangers and instantly captivate them with the way I laugh at all their jokes and my confessional style. Last Thursday, one of those strangers drew a box around me and said, ‘This is a no-bullshit zone.’ I meet strangers wherever I go.”