Disappointed And Disgusted

Now aren't those fun adjectives to describe your favorite Jen De Menthe? Woo hoo, we're talkin' full fledged barrels-o'-laughter here, folks.

I found out today that I didn't get the other job that I applied for. The one I interviewed for earlier this month. I am disappointed, to say the very least, but nowhere near as unhappy as I was last week when I learned that I didn't get the other job that I'd applied for. In today's case, the selecting official was responsive and kind and basically said without saying that she wanted me and that I would have been a fantastic fit for their agency, but that the "Budget Gods" (the exact words that she used) weren't kind and that their funding for their two vacant positions was pulled. I feel so good about this experience for numerous reasons. One, they liked me and I fit in...and I finally felt for the first time since all of this BRAC hoo-ha started that I might actually be OK someplace else. They were kind and friendly and welcoming and they really seemed to enjoy having me. I felt comfortable and like I could actually find a new "home" there. Later, two people sent me EMAILs that had come to them about me from the folks who had interviewed me...and the consistent message in both was that I was well-liked and that I'd interviewed very well and that I was wanted. So that makes me feel worlds better than I did last week. And also, there's the sheer fact that this agency extended both my boss and I the professional (and HUMAN!) courtesy of an answer without our having to (continually!!!) seek one out. Although I am very disappointed that I didn't get this position, I feel confident in both myself (I did it! They liked me!) and in them (that if, perhaps, the Budget Gods do smile upon them, that a job might be right there waiting for me). I guess it just wasn't meant to be right now. Looks like my place is, at least for now anyway, writing crediting plans, adjudicating Veterans' Preference, and rating and ranking applicants in our tiny DEU. And, truthfully, that's not such a bad place to be.

So I'm driving down my residential street tonight and I noticed two strange figures trifling through the trash on my neighbor's curb. Now, this is a family neighborhood. Upper-middle-class. Lots of little ones, mostly complete nuclear families, and almost everyone Christian or Catholic. So for two shady, unkempt hoodlums to be rummaging through garbage is, well, a bit odd and out-of-sorts for our little 'hood. And so I stopped dead in the middle of the street and watched them (smart, yes, I know)...and they stopped and watched me looking at them. ("Hey Abbott, who's on first?") And I sat right there in the middle of the street staring at them and dialed my neighbors on my cell phone. No answer. So I called the Police. Before the kind, patient officer got here, the hoodlums made off with FOUR bags of trash. My neighbor finally connected with me, and explained that the bags consisted mainly of toys her son had outgrown. Just to be on the safe side, she's calling the bank and her utilities and the credit card companies tonight. Smart move. Yuck. How disgusting. What kind of low-life does this? Takes all kinds to make a world...

That's all from my end of the planet. Actually, that's a lie. Please keep my friend Donna's father in your prayers. He's been ill for a while now and has taken a turn for the worst in the past 48 hours. Please also join me in wishing my friend (and former Secret Pal) Shelby a happy birthday!