Plans are what you make, life is what you get.

Robert Heinlein once said, “Climate is what you expect, weather is what you get.” My version works pretty well, too. I started this blog with the best of intentions, planning on posting at least once a week. It’s now been a little over 2 months since my last post. Not the best track record around. In my own defense, my plans took a back seat to life.

I’ve happily started my new job at Cutco. Unbelievably, this company is everything its reputation makes it out to be and more. They’re very family and community oriented. They work hard to take care of their employees (as I’ve recently had ample evidence of – more later). They make good products and they stand behind them. This is a company where, if you’ve worked there for 15 years, you’re a short timer. I’ve been looking most of my adult life for the company I could work for until I retire (hard to find in the computer biz) and now, coming up on my 49th birthday, I’ve found it. Life was good.

So, I spent the next few weeks getting up to speed on my new job, learning the network and systems, etc. Everything was going well. Tami started a new job at about the same time. Coincidentally, it’s my old job with the Disconnects group at Level 3. She even has my old cubicle. Of course, her old boss was being a real jackass about letting her go. He had let the group attrit down to 2 people from 6 while the work load doubled so Tami wasn’t allowed to just start her new job. She had to ‘transition’ out of the old one which turned out to mean working 1/2 days at one job and 1/2 days at the other. This made training for the new job interesting in a Chinese curse kind of way – especially since the person training her was due to take maternity leave real soon. Needless to say, her stress level was kind of high.

Still, she was doing OK and learning the new job. Dennise had her baby so Tami was on her own but she was still doing well. But the stress was getting to her. She has been under ever increasing stress in her old job because of her let-staffing-drop-by-60%-while-workload-doubles-and-keep-performance-requirements-the-same jackass boss. The new job stress just added to it. On top of that, she had hurt her knee a couple of months ago and it wasn’t getting any better. Her feet were swelling (from sitting all day, we thought) and she couldn’t exercise because of her knee and would get out of breath going up stairs. All this just made everything worse.

Finally, her mother had to go in for surgery. As such things go, it wasn’t too serious but her Mom is 62 so there was something else to worry about. Tami and I had scheduled time off work so that we could go stay with her Mom when she got out of the hospital. We planned (there’s that word again) to drive down Thursday evening so we would be there when her Mom went into surgery Friday morning. We would stay the weekend and drive home Sunday evening. Tami’s Aunt would be there as well and would stay for the rest of the week. That’s what we planned.

Here’s what actually happened. Thursday morning, Tami got up and went to take her shower. She came back a minute later saying that she had gotten halfway down the hall and couldn’t catch her breath. I checked her pulse and breathing to make sure it wasn’t a heart attack (I was an EMT is a former life). Nothing dire was apparent so after talking about it, we chalked it up to a particularly bad anxiety attach (she had been having them off and on for the past few months and we attributed them to work related stress). We thought that worry about her Mom had just turned up the pressure. Anyway, we both went to work.

That evening, we drove 5 hours to West Virginia to Tami’s Mom’s house. Tami was still having anxiety attacks. The next day, more of the same. She would be able to walk about 10-15 feet and then would have to stop and get her breath. After the surgery, it seemed a little better which seemed to strengthen the argument that it was stress related. The next morning, Saturday, July 13th she woke up and her breathing was worse than ever. I drove her over to the Fairmont General Hospital Emergency Room. They very quickly admitted her and the Doctor on duty almost immediately tagged her problem as something more serious than an anxiety attack. He didn’t like her breathing, didn’t like her color, didn’t like her pulse rate, blood pressure and blood oxygen level and remarkably made a tentative diagnosis of pulmonary embolism. The reason I say ‘remarkably’ is because pulmonary embolism is hard to diagnose because it often resembles a heart attack or, you guessed it, an anxiety attack. Regardless, one CAT scan later, his prognosis was confirmed and Tami was off to Intensive Care. Plans, meet Life.

The Doctors at Fairmont General were fantastic. They kept us fully apprised of what was going on, the risks involved, planned treatment, prognosis for recovery…everything. The Nursing staff was just as wonderful – always friendly, smiling, professional, caring. My Mother was a nurse so I know something of what the job entails. It’s not an easy job and maintaining a good attitude is difficult sometimes but essential to giving good patient care. Tami’s nurses were among the best I’ve ever dealt with.

Tami’s prognosis was actually pretty good…once we got her in the hospital. The scary part was that the doctors told us that if we hadn’t brought her in when we did she probably would have been dead within a few days. In fact, the only reason she made it as long as she did is because (we found this out in the ER as well) she was severely anemic. This limited the size of the clots and kept them from killing her outright. This kind of revelation has a tendency to make you forget to breath for a few minutes.

This is where hind-sight kicked in and we realized that pain in her knee was the initial blood clot that started all this. The swollen ankles were a side effect of the clot. The infuriating thing here is that Tami went to our family doctor about her knee and was sent to the local hospital (which shall remain nameless) for a sonogram to see what the problem was. The tech looked right at the clot and never saw it. Fairmont General found it almost immediately. For the record, I will never willing set foot in that nameless hospital again. They’re the closest to our home but they’ve managed to screw up diagnoses and treatment for every member of my family. The took hours to even see one of my sons when I took him to the Emergency room on a Friday night for what we found out was a cracked collar bone (the ER wasn’t even remotely busy that night – we were the only ones there). They mis-read a cardiac stress test on me when they thought they saw something. This resulted in my having to travel to another hospital 3 hours away to get a Cardiac Catheterization done which showed absolutely nothing wrong. They did the same thing with an echocardiogram on my youngest son when he had to get a checkup for Cross Country and Soccer. We ended up taking him to 2 other hospitals. The first one did another echocardiogram and found nothing so they sent us the another hospital. This last one put him on a treadmill for a stress test. End result was that the only person who had ever done better on that test was a professional fire fighter who ran triathlons. I was willing to overlook the botched tests on me and my youngest since the only consequences were more tests (better safe than sorry) – irritating but OK. But when some incompetent imbecile miss-reads results and it almost costs someone their life they’ve gone too far. I don’t blame the Doctor that read the results or our Family Doctor. I blame the brain-dead tech who gave them bad results and the hospital that employs him or her.

Once we got over the shock though we started looking ahead at her recovery. Short term, that meant at least a week in the hospital followed by another couple of weeks at home. This is where we are now. Tami’s out of the hospital, we’ve driven the 5 hours home and she’s following doctor’s orders – resting a lot, light exercise (the only kind she’s capable of right now), monitoring her blood pressure, taking her meds…the list goes on.

Medium term it means getting her blood checked – a lot – to make sure it’s not too thin and making some minor dietary changes. Interestingly enough, we don’t really eat that badly, nutritionally speaking. We’re just too sedentary and our portion size is too big. Which means continuing with the exercise and increasing it as we can. It also means that when she goes back to work next week she can’t sit chained to her desk all day. She has to get up occasionally and walk around for a few minutes.

Long term…WOW. Long term means being thankful to God and appreciating that you actually have a long term to think about. And plan for. It means making the most of each day. It means actually improving out health, not just talking about it.

As for me, I’ve gone back to work. About the time Tami was being moved from Intensive Care to a regular room, I was driving home to get the boys, clear the decks with my new job and cancel about a half-dozen appointments with Doctors, Optometrists, Dentists and Orthodontists (the only one I couldn’t reschedule). We all had checkups scheduled – ironic, ain’t it? I went to work that Monday to clear things up so that I could be away for a few days. My boss (and her boss and his boss) all made a point of letting me know that I was to take as much time as I needed to take care of my family – no muss, no fuss. My job would still be there when I got back. I was speechless. When I got back to work for real this past Tuesday I asked my boss how I needed to handle the fact that I had used up all my available vacation time with this plus a day I didn’t have coming to me. She told me, “You still have your vacation. They wouldn’t do that to you.” Again, I was speechless.

I know that eventually I’ll find something about Cutco that I don’t like – nothing’s perfect – but everything I’ve ever heard about them and now my own experience tell me that I’m working for a wonderful group of people. Tami’s on the mend and the future is bright. We’re all (reasonably) healthy and getting more so. What can I say. Life is good.

Employment – The adventure begins…again

Three cheers and a tiger for me!!! I’ve gotten a job offer from Cutco and have accepted. I start work on June 1 and I couldn’t be happier. By all accounts, Cutco is a great place to work – privately held company, good bennies, family oriented, community aware. Plus I’ll be working in IT again. Sure sounds good to me.

It’ll be good to be working again. And yes, I realize how lucky I am to have found a job given the current state of the economy. The thing is, there are jobs out there. Tami and I were discussing a former boss of mine. He was laid off shortly after he laid me off over a year ago. Tami heard recently that he’s still looking for work.

In that same time, I’ve looked for work, taken a contracting job that lasted a year, looked for work again and found a good job with a good company doing what I love. Taking the contracting job was a no brainer for me. It was for considerably less money than I’d been making. It would be considered an ‘Admin’ job when I was an ‘Engineer’ before. None of that mattered to me. It was a paycheck and would allow me to support my family albeit at a reduced level. My sole criteria was did it pay more than my unemployment?

The thing is, I don’t think that my former boss – and a lot of other “Professional” people out there – would have even considered that job. It would have been beneath them or it would have been a blot on their resume or something equally silly. Interestingly enough, that contracting job actually helped me. It allowed me to expand my skills, introduced me to another whole group of people (can you say networking) and, because I actually tried to do a good job, it garnered me another good recommendation.

It also looked good in interviews. Everything I’ve ever read about the interview process says that prospective employers like go-getters and this experience has proved that point. When people asked me about that job I them the absolute truth – that I took it because I have a family to feed and bills to pay – and that answer got a good response. I wasn’t waiting for something to be given to me, I was going out and getting what I needed. In this case, a paycheck.

Don’t get me wrong here. I’m not trying to blow my own horn. I’m trying to make a case for doing what’s necessary to get through tough times. If I hadn’t been offered that job I would have applied at MacDonalds and the local grocery store and anywhere else I could find – not because I’m some paragon of virtue but because I’m a practical realist. It’s practical and realistic to take the job you can get if it helps you support your family. It’s impractical and unrealistic to pass on jobs that don’t pay what you used to make or that are ‘beneath you’ especially when the economy is tanking.

You do what you need to do whether it’s taking a lesser job or maybe taking two lesser jobs. You do what you need to do so that you can still look at your children and your spouse with pride. You do what you need to do so that you can still look at yourself in the mirror. Anything less is just not good enough.

Unemployment – The adventure continues…

Three weeks gone and maybe an end in sight. I’ve had three interviews for one company and it’s down to me and one other person. Now we wait. They told me that they plan to have a decision this coming week. Hope they weren’t kidding. I don’t mind the time off – sleeping late, keeping the house up, learning JavaScript and cooking are all fun…except for the keeping the house up part (dishes and laundry suck) – but I really want a job.

I’m one of those people that’s just wired that way. I need gainful employment. I don’t need it from a self-worth standpoint. I don’t define myself by what I do for a living. I need it to keep my mind busy. I need it for the challenge. And, on a less personal level, I need it to pay the bills.

I’d probably still work even if I hit the lottery…and I do play the lottery. Tami and I once talked about it – you know, one of those what if conversations couples have. We both decided that after we paid off everything, took care of our families, got new cars, built a new house, etc. we’d either still work or, even better, become perpetual students. That would be fun. Not having to worry about bills or anything and able to take whatever classes caught your fancy. Not because you’re necessarily working on a degree but just because it sounds interesting. That’d be a blast.

Of course, given the odds of my picking the winning numbers a job sounds like a much more reasonable goal. So I wait for a call and hope it’s the right one. The one that says, “Can you start on Monday?” And even though I’m really hoping this job comes through, I’m not counting on it. There is another candidate. The coin could land ‘tails’ instead of ‘heads’.

So I’m still working the job market. I’ve got an immediate fall back job that I stand a good chance for but it doesn’t really pay enough to take care of the bills, groceries, etc. plus braces for one kid and college tuition for the other. I’ll take it if I have to but it would just be a temporary job until something better came along…and I don’t want to do that to the people I’d be working for and with. They deserve better.

And there’s good news on the job front. Sean found a job. The plan was for him to come home over the summer and work to save up money for his Junior year. We made that plan before the economy went bust but it worked out even so. He starts on Tuesday in a Call Center. It’s going to be a bit of an odd schedule, especially if I get this job I’m hoping for. It’ll be interesting getting three people to their jobs with two cars. But we’ll manage. And maybe one of us can carpool with someone. Luckily, James doesn’t need a car yet. The High School is within walking distance. I wonder if they need a resident computer guy?

Parenthood – Oye Vey!!!

Sean, my eldest, is home for the summer. We’re four again and it feels good. Of course, there are adjustments to make. The tall young man we picked up on Saturday isn’t the same one that we dropped off last fall. Or the same one that came home for Christmas. Or even the same person that was home for Spring Break a few weeks ago. He’s growing into himself and maturing…becoming the man he’s going to be. And I’m pretty pleased with what I’m seeing.

Oh, he’s not there yet but he’s well on the way. And Tami and I get to go through the bittersweet period of adjustment that comes from looking for our boy and seeing a man. She put if perfectly earlier this evening when she said, “We’re not the center of his life anymore but he’s still the center of ours.”

Ahhh, the joys of parenthood. We raise them, teach them, help them grow, all the while hoping beyond hope that we’re not making too many mistakes and that we won’t do something so horribly wrong that it’ll end up crippling them emotionally or intellectually. We spend sleepless nights worrying about…everything. We hug them when we can, spank them when they need it, bandage their skinned knees and send them back out to get more. We teach them how to drive and then pray more earnestly than we have in years the first time they go out solo. And then we pray more each time after that.

We try so hard to guide them and help them grow up straight and strong and we get so wrapped up in their lives that it comes as a major shock when we look up and see that our work is almost done. It amazes us that our children have gone and grown up on us seemingly overnight – Sean is 19 now but still sometimes I hear his voice behind me and I turn around looking for the 12 or 13 year old boy and am surprised when I end up having to look up at him.

Worst of all, it’s truly painful to realize that, even though they still love us and (we hope and pray) they always will, they don’t NEED us anymore. At least not like they used to. But we still need them. That’s the part that really hurts. That’s the part that’s not fair. DAMN IT, they’re not supposed to grow up that fast. Didn’t he just start Junior High School a few months ago? And he was going to his first High School Dance just a few weeks ago. He can’t be 19. I still have so much to tell him. And I still haven’t spend enough time with him. He’s still just a boy. Except, he isn’t.

He’s a tall, straight, honest young man that I’d be proud to call friend…if I weren’t so insufferably prouder to be able to call him ‘Son’. He’s everything I’ve always hoped he’d be at 19 – except for maybe the long hair…and the tattoos…and the piercings. But those are window dressing. I may tease him about them but they don’t change how I feel about him. ‘course, if he ever comes home with gauges in his earlobes I’m gettin’ the pliers.

Jokes aside, I am proud of him and who he’s become…and who he’s still becoming. We don’t agree on everything but that’s OK. Tami and I have raised our sons to think for themselves and make up their own minds. We’ve never required them to agree with everything we say and to believe everything we believe. We do require that they be respectful of us – even when they disagree with us.

When you get down to it, Tami and I never had that many rules. I’ve never really tried writing them down before and I don’t recall us ever discussing them in any organized, “this is what we’ll required of our children” fashion so maybe I should make a stab at putting them down once and for all. So here goes…John and Tami’s rules for our children.

We require that our children treat everyone with the respect they are due – and this includes the respect your give yourself. This means treating everyone with respect. If someone proves unworthy of that respect at a later date, the fault is theirs, not yours. Of course, if the person that proves themselves unworthy of respect is you then you have a real problem on your hands. So make sure that it doesn’t happen.

We require that our children mind their manners and be aware that what passes for good manners at home may not be good manners out in public. This one starts out with the parents making it crystal clear what is and is not considered good manners both at home and in public and being consistent with those standards.

We require that our children take responsibility for their own actions. If you screwed up, then YOU screwed up, not someone else. If you got bad grades because you didn’t study, the fault is yours, not your teachers, not the kids being loud and distracting at the back of the class.

We require that our children be honest. This does not mean that we require them to be little Polly Purebred, never tell a lie, brutally honest at all times with everybody prigs. It means that, if you’re asked a question, you answer it honestly – even if it gets you in trouble. If you give your word, you keep it – even if it hurts.

We require that our children try their best and put forth their best effort at all times. Everyone has days when they don’t feel like putting out the effort – maybe you’re tired, maybe you’re sick, maybe it’s just one of those days. None of that matters. You still do the best you can do knowing that your best on those days isn’t as good as your best when you’re really on your game. The important thing isn’t whether or not you’re as good today as you were yesterday or whether you’re going to be better tomorrow. The important thing is, regardless of how you feel, you do your best. Anything else is cheating yourself.

Of course, that’s the easy part. The hard part is the rules for ourselves.

Hug your child…a lot. Every living thing needs physical contact. A hug conveys love, solace, comfort, stability, friendship, strength, sharing…the list goes on. Robert Heinlein once said, “Touch is the most fundamental sense. A baby experiences it, all over, before he is born and long before he learns to use sight, hearing, or taste, and no human ever ceases to need it. Keep your children short on pocket money but long on hugs.” Ladies and Gentlemen, this is wisdom.

Say, “I love you!”…a lot. And do this out in public, not just at home. And don’t be shy about expecting the same in return. Children need to understand that love is there to be shared everywhere, not just at home. One of the things that I’m proudest of as a parent is that both of my sons will hug me in public, in front of their friends and tell me that they love me without any hint of embarrassment. I’ve always been careful not to do anything that might embarrass them – no yelling “I love you” as I drop them off at school. But I’m also never been shy about going up to them and hugging them and telling them, “I love you. And I am so proud of you.”

Be consistent with your rules. NEVER punish for something one time and let it slide the next time – even…or especially when you’re tired, cranky, out of sorts, don’t feel like it or can’t be bothered right now. Children need consistency. Not so much because it’s easier to learn the rules that way – it is but that’s not the main reason. Children need consistency so they’ll feel secure in their place in the world. That security is the foundation for the rest of their lives. If they get punished for doing something one time and don’t get punished the next time, they don’t know where they stand. The ground under their feet shifts. Don’t do that to them. Being a child is hard enough without that. A corollary of this is if you have to change the rules, explain why you’re changing them…and be aware that the explanation will probably include the words, “I was wrong”.

Never reward what’s expected. If your child acts the way you want them to act, that’s what’s expected and that’s not deserving of a reward. If your child exceeds your expectations – even a little bit – reward them. But be consistent with the rewards.

Never reward a child with money or gifts. Reward a child with hugs. Tell them you’re proud of them. Brag about their achievements to your family and single them out for praise and attention. But don’t raise them to expect a financial windfall whenever they do well. The world doesn’t work that way and you’ll be doing them an incredible disservice.

Never compare one child to another. Never say things like, “Why can’t you make good grades like your brother?” Every child is different with different strengths and weaknesses. One of my sons is dyslexic. The other isn’t. One gets C’s and B’s and the other is on the Honor Roll. Expecting the same grades out of both of them is unreasonable. Instead, I expect something much more important from both of them. I expect them to do their absolute best. If the best a child can do in a given subject is a C-, then expect that C- and don’t be satisfied with a D+. More importantly, don’t let your child be satisfied with it either. And praise and reward that child as much for the C- as you do other child for making the Honor Roll.

Never bribe a child to get them to behave. Once you do this, you’re stuck with it and the bribes never stop…and always get bigger.

Did I mention being consistent?

Be careful what you promise a child because even if you forget, they won’t. And it won’t matter to the child if you shouldn’t have promised because it isn’t good for them or they’re too little or it’s too late or it’s a school night. All the child will understand is that you lied.

Don’t be perfect. Three little words but they cover a whole lot of ground including but not limited to:

Admit when you’re wrong. Then make it right.

Admit it if you don’t know something. Then go find out.

Fight with your spouse in front of your children. Then make up in front of them. Before you start heating up the tar, let me explain. Children need to understand that there are good ways and bad ways to fight or disagree. They also need to understand that, even if you and your spouse fight, you still love each other and you’re both willing to compromise – that sometimes one of you wins and sometime the other one does – and that no one holds a grudge. And that regardless of who wins, life and your marriage… and the childs family goes on. Of course, if you and your spouse can’t fight fair or can’t not hold a grudge then I’d recommend that you seek marriage counseling…and that you tell your child what you’re doing and why.

Punish immediately. Never say, “When you get home you’re getting a spanking!” If the child deserves a spanking, do it then. If that means you have to leave wherever you are then leave. But never delay punishment. It’s cruel.

Let your child see your emotions. Let them see joy. Let them see love. Let them see heartache. Let them see anger. And let them see you handle your emotions in a good way.

And finally – be consistent.

By the way, I should mention that these rules are really for small children. Everything here is subject to change as children grow – except the part about how you should always be consistent. And the part about the hugs. And saying, “I love you.” Those never change.

Back to the ranks of the unemployed

Here we go again. My contract with Level 3 ran out this past Wednesday so once again I’m looking for work. Frankly, this doesn’t worry me. I’ve been unemployed before and no doubt will be again. Even the current condition of the economy doesn’t really worry me that much. The area I live in has been economically depressed for the last several years so we’re all old hands at dealing with the kind of economy that the rest of the country (world?) is still getting used to.

Truth to tell, I’ve been working the local job market for months in anticipation of this so it’s not like I’m unprepared. And though I haven’t really had any nibbles for a while, I do have an interview setup for next week. With luck, I’ll soon be employed again.

But what happens if I don’t get lucky? In the short term, it means unemployment until I find work. Not my favorite way of paying the bills but doable – if only barely. Unemployment holds no stigma for me. I don’t feel ‘less of a man’ if I’m collecting unemployment. It’s something that I’ve paid into so why not use it. I think of it more as insurance against job loss. It’s not something that you ever want to use but it’s sure nice to have when the gas bill comes due.

In the long term unemployment would probably mean that I’d have to move my family. This is not something I really want to do. First, Tami and I really like this area. We are big fans of small town living and the climate here is great – actual winters with snow and everything, gorgeous springs with everything in bloom, warm summers with cool evenings (great for sitting around a bonfire in the back yard while you talk, roast marshmallows and watch the stars) and finally, breathtakingly beautiful Autumns where the surrounding mountains look like they’re on fire with all the color.

The second reason I don’t want to move is my youngest son, James. He’s still in High School and I really want him to be able to finish up with his friends. I moved 5 days before Christmas my Junior year of High School and it sucked! I’ve not become an axe murderer or anything but moving away from your friends does make a difference – especially when you’re a teenager.

I switched Elementary Schools (and States) the summer between 4th and 5th grade and frankly, it didn’t hit me that hard. At that age, you accept change easily. Moving during my Junior year, though…that was tough. I left behind friends that I had known (Teen Angst to Warp Factor 10, Mr. Sulu) most of my life!!! I also left behind (Warp Factor Zillion, Mr. Sulu with a side helping of hormones, please) my first serious girlfriend. This plus moving just before Christmas was more than a little trauma inducing to a 16 year old. I’d prefer if James didn’t have to go through it.

So…what are my options if I don’t get this job I’m interviewing for? What’s my strategy for finding gainful employment in Information Technology in a depressed economy in a depressed mostly rural area with a limited number of jobs period, much less IT jobs? Simple. Look for work where I can find it and be prepared to adjust my plans and desires to fit reality.

Sounds simple, doesn’t it. I even said it was simple. And it is…in a Zen kind of ‘simple is complex, complex is simple’ kind of way. There are two parts to this: “look for work where I can find it” and “be prepared to adjust my plans and desires to fit reality”. Lets take a look at both parts seperately.

When I say “look for work where I can find it”, the first question that comes to mind is where can I find it? There’s precious little employment available around here and I’ll apply for any of it that’s available. But what if nothing comes through? At the same time I’m applying for local jobs, I’m applying for jobs in surrounding cities with the idea that I can work there during the week and come home on weekends – not my first choice but still very doable and it still allows James to finish High School with his friends. Great, but what if nothing comes from that? That’s where my third group of applications comes into play.

You may have heard of a town called Morgantown, WV. It’s been mentioned in the news lately because it has the lowest unemployment in the nation. Morgantown is my Ace in the Hole – not because I saw it on the news but because I have family there. Morgantown is where I moved to my Junior year of High School. Tami was born there. So was my oldest son, Sean. I lived there for over 20 years. Paradoxically, Tami and I moved from Morgantown because I couldn’t find work. Things were different in the late 90’s than they are today. The thing is, working in Morgantown would almost require that I move my family. It’s just a little outside “go home on the weekend” range…which is there the ‘be prepared to adjust my plans and desires to fit reality” part comes into play.

If that’s where I can find work, that’s where I’ll work. We’ve talked to James about it and, while he’s not real happy about the possibiltiy of moving, he’s willing and able to accept it. And Morgantown is tops on his list of places to move to since, aside from having family there, he also wants to attend WVU. So even my “bad” possibilities aren’t that bad.

But we’re not there yet. I’ve still got an interview to do on Monday. And who knows, maybe I’ll get the job and we can stay right here. I hope so. It’d be nice if reality would work with me on this. But if we have to move, that’ll be good, too. Just in a different way. I mean, traumatic as it was to move during High School, if I hadn’t moved I never would have met Tami. And she’s about the best thing that’s ever happend to me. Love ya, Hon.