Same old, same old.

The Prof goes for his interview today for the full time tenure track position. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him this nervous about anything before, and it surprises me. He’s worried about being asked to work a problem he can’t handle, or asked a question he doesn’t know the answer to. I’ve tried to reassure him that a simple “I don’t know but I know where I can find out” would be sufficient. Somehow I don’t think I was much help, though.

In the “Life’s Little Traumas” department: I had to trash an unopened pint of Edy’s “Nut’s about Malt” last night. It had sat at the back of the freezer too long, and the chocolate in it had turned weird and powdery. I tried a few spoonfuls, but the ice cream had taken on a gritty texture as well. Let that be a lesson to me. One does NOT save up ice cream for use at an unspecified future date.

Sister the Elder turns 51 a week from today. Last year I got her a pair of diamond earrings for the big Five-Oh. That sort of extravagance can’t be duplicated this year, and I’m left at a loss as to what to get her. I know what I want to get her – a hardback copy of James Clavell’s “Children’s Story”. I recall she was telling me over Christmas that she loved Clavell and had all his books, but when I mentioned that book later (without mentioning the author) she’d never heard of it. I’m surprised it’s out of print right now, considering the tone of the country and the popularity of the author. But it looks like I’m reduced to e-Baying.

“Iris” is playing at my favorite theater, and I’d like to catch it before it disappears. The Prof has agreed to doing the movie thing this weekend, which we can combine with doing a little scouting for a new apartment. If he does land this job, we’ll need to find a mid-way point between his campus and my office. I’ve about had it with our current abode, with its malfunctioning toilets and silverfish and idiots who constantly leave clods of mud in the hallway because they’re too lazy to clean their boots. Besides, I’m looking forward to having separate bedrooms to lock the cats into.

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