Last night I was feeling pretty good, because I had an interview with a new potential client and it went really well, I thought. I still haven’t filled Louis’ spot, and the income hit is starting to be felt – I’ve been advertising like crazy but things are really quiet on the childcare front in Halifax these past few months.
(It’s everywhere, not just in my area. Many licensed centers have vacancies and dayhomes are having a hard time holding on to solid, reliable full time clients. It’s stressful.)
Anyway, the couple and their very sweet little girl left with promises to follow up by email this weekend with their decision.
They haven’t contacted me, it’s been 24 hours, and I’m all WHY WON’T YOU JUST TELL ME ONE WAY OR THE OTHER I CANNOT HANDLE THE WAITING OH MY GOD THIS IS INSAAAAAAANE.
I tried to keep busy today. We had our family pictures done, which was a two-hour distraction. Then we got groceries. Now, we usually go to the grocery store at 10am on Saturday, which is just about the perfect time; most of the customer base are either older folks from the seniors’ complex next door, or university students who get there by bus. At that hour on a Saturday, students are still sleeping it off and the seniors are taking their time getting started. Today we didn’t get there until after 2pm, and oh my holy hell. I realize that I will be old one day, so I try very hard to be respectful and patient with the poor dears, but DEAR SWEET LORD THERE ARE ONLY SO MANY CANNED TUNA OPTIONS, PLEASE JUST CHOOSE ONE AND MOVE ALONG, SIR. Also happening at 2pm – store samples. I swear to god the menfolk only go to the grocery store to get some free food and a bit of conversation with the sample ladies. We slalomed in and out of what felt like a hundred ambulatory apple-dolls with walkers, and I could feel my visage coalescing into Bitchy Resting Face because I know, I know, we must be kind to the elderly but I just wanted to get home.
Once we got home I was able to sit for all of ten minutes before the waiting drove me mad, so I charged outside in a huff, rebuilt the backyard gate, and set up some bracing for posts that were knocked loose by a recent late-season tropical storm. Then I stormed back in and made dinner for the kids. Now I’m writing this post, and I’m clicking “refresh” on my email every five minutes, and WHY WON’T THEY EMAIL, IF IT’S BEEN THIS LONG THE ANSWER IS NO, I WISH THEY’D JUST PUT ME OUT OF MY MISERY.
Did I mention I’m having my second period in a month? Because that’s happening, too, hello perimenopause, I guess that’s a thing I’m dealing with now.
Waiting, man. Waiting SUCKS.