Finally finally, I got the hell out at noon, and finally I went by the grocery store first, for the staples, like cheese and hummus, and for a cheese steak at the place across the parking lot. The day was brilliant sunshine and I was good and free from the blackish week, with a pure white one stretching into the future. Pure white as in calendar blank and unscheduled, or at least only scheduled with things I put there, instead of things they put there.

In this moment that should have been joy, I was noticeably sad. The sadness didn’t bother me deeply, but the fact that I had no explanation for it did.

I mulled it while I drove and I mulled it while I yarded. Partly I’ve been burning the candle at both ends. Partly I had to spend the morning with an ancient-spirited stranger lady who brought a 1951 cold war definition of socialism to the table. But really–I think it’s just that any big change has a little grief in it. Though it really was only a little, I had been repressing it vigorously, because you never let them see You hurt. It’s just an ancient rule, for friend and foe alike.

But you I can tell, because you transcend friendship and enmity, and it doesn’t matter if I’m spilling tears or manic delight, fiction or fact, as long as it’s real and true.

So thank you, for being that for me.

mmFlint finally dropped another episode of Rumble, number 47, and … that’s not actually a change of topic.

It was about coping with a little momentary grief, as in the unsuper tuesday in this case of course. A really fine hour of post-radio conversational sound art.

Later in the afternoon, I got a callback from the Talent Management clerk at the school down the road.

She called first on Monday I think, to tell me after some weeks of waiting that yes, as expected, they wanted me to show up next week for an interview. But the time of day for it was still unsettled., she didn’t have instructions yet for the teaching demo, yadda; she’d call me back.

By today I still hadn’t heard, so I left her a voice mail, and finally she called back. With essentially no news. They hadn’t answered her, so she couldn’t answer me. She was sure (she didn’t sound too sure), that by Monday she would have more, and that I’d have a couple days to come up with a demo based on a topic of their choosing. When, you know, they chose …

Okay …

This is a terrible fucking sign of what to expect from them as potential employers, because it signals a lack of respect–not to sound too uppity about it, but this is kind of a sore point with me right now …

Respect and money are the only things a job has to offer me, and without the first … I feel quite tempted to insist on a lot of the second.

Which they won’t likely go for.

And the question will then become … half-ass bird in the hand? Or pass them by and look for something more promising?

Or … be an uncivil bastard about it, sign on the dotted line, and then keep looking.

Like anyone who was even marginally good at the game of capital would do.