Ramblings from the Desert

The man who trades freedom for security does not deserve nor will he ever receive either. ~Benjamin Franklin

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Location: New Mexico

Author of the urban fantasy novel, The Music of Chaos, and the paranormal romance, The Canvas Thief.

Monday, March 06, 2006

Dirty Dogs And Dirty Liars

Puppy shampoo isn't for the puppies. It's for the humans that wash them.

Case in point, the Rat Dog, a decade beyond "puppy," is getting a bath. Just as I get her lathered up, she launches the standard canine defense--she shakes. Soap bubbles and hair fly in all directions, including at my face. A hairy glob lands in my eyes. Fortunately, it's puppy formula, No Tears. Alas, the Rat Dog's hair isn't no tears. The Rat's bath takes place in the tub and while I'm trying to get the dog hair out of my eyes, she makes a break for it and scrambles out of the tub. Soapy dogs are slippery little buggers.

Anyway, I can attest that the No Tear puppy formula is true to its advertising.

Yesterday I cleared all the out-of-control brush in the yard. Next to me, Dubya is a brush-clearing wimp. A tiny, sagebrush forest fell before my loppers and saw.

Today, I can't move. Nature's revenge. And I'm totally uninspired, which is unusual, because I can usually engage in self-involved blathering with great aplomp. The only thing I could think of today were job interviews--job interviews for a job you realize you really don't want.

Do you fess up and midway through the interview say, "Oh, this isn't working"? Snerk. Like a bad relationship. "It's not you, it's me..."

I love acting, so I just keep playing along, no matter what. In one case, the interviewer asked if I objected to working Christmas Eve. Truth, "Hell, no, I ain't working on Christmas Eve!" Actual answer, "Oh, no. No problem," said with a smile and oozing sincerity.

In another interview, the interviewer admitted that the workplace was rather volatile. Of course, adding me to that kind of workplace is like adding gas to a fire, but I lied and said I was great at conflict resolution. I.e., I love resolving the problem by verbally and if necessary, physically eviscerating the enemy.

In both cases, I got offered the job (and turned it down). One supposes I should feel guilty about wasting their time. I don't. It was like getting an Oscar. Day-yum, I'm good.

Monday. Argh.
P.K.

 

Graphics and Content Copyright © Patricia Kirby 2005