This is the only picture I have of me scooping ice cream at the moment. I call it "Professional Scooper". During the tumultuous second interview All I could think of was this image. Is this is the image of what I am suppose to be the rest of my life? A scooper of joy? A sundae of sadness? A hot fudge river of emotions?
During the interview I was Blake Adorable. Funny, direct, and sold my self with internal jazz hands. The ultimate professional scooper. Yet as I sat there waiting for my appointment I saw all these other well dressed IHC employees coming in and leaving and they looked so happy and content with the jobs that they had. Then looking at this picture I realized that as much as I joke and use the term professional scooper if I had the choice I would throw it away for the chance for something different.
The other day I blogged bout going to the ATC to get my MA and when I showed up on campus I heard this big ole' voice say "RUN AWAY! BIG BUNNY RUN AWAY!" sorry bad Monty Python reference. So I did. I ran away! Well not exactly running more along of the lines of gimped away but it sounds better if you say I ran away!
So now what?
Anybody have a stripper pole? Wait strike that. The last thing I need is the Mormon Mafia to organize and protest. Don't laugh they exist. Be afraid. They are watching you! What depresses me the most is that yesterday I was doing the "what diet should you do?" quiz in O magazine and I thought why am I being reactive in life instead of being proactive? Why moan about these extra pounds when you can actually go out and do something about it?
So that's what I did. I went out for a hike. Saw the beautiful skyline and got just a brief answer. "Hold still and know I am here. Something is coming."
Well that's positive.
Gotta go.
Time to polish my professional scooper badge.
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