But it rang and rang.

BOOM. Work's over. I celebrated by drinking beer with Marky and eating Taco Bell. Last night, I slept for 11 hours. So glorious I can barely talk about it. All in all, it was a great little job. I learned a whole lot and I hope they'll want me next year, if I can come back.

Fear over unemployment hasn't set in yet. Only relief over not working 18 hours a day. The few days I've had between marching up to the Governor's office to turn down the job and now has only sealed the deal that I made the right call. I can't believe I was freaking out so much over it. (Now, ask me about that when I'm broke in OKC.)

I'm starting to take stock of my posessions; what I want to take, what I need to take, what I should get rid of. I honestly don't have that much. A speedy move out of the Princeton house took care of that.

You know, I've got some dreams up my sleeve. I might never get there, but I can't help but feel like I'm heading in the right direction to turn them into reality.

My step brother signed up to be one of the few, the proud, the Marines. It's personally a little scary for me, but he came to the decision on his own. Can't be anything but confident in him about it.

The East Mountain Triple Homicide hits a little close to home for me and Kyle, as one of the victims was my cousin-in-law (not at the time...) and it happened at Kyle's old bus stop. I think the trial's left both of us feeling a little left of center. Especially the fact that Brandon Craig's going to get away with it. Looks like money can buy justice.

For example, competition.

Momma is wicked precious. I called her this morning and told her that Larry is probably the nicest man on the planet, seeing as he cut me a key to his apartment in Santa Fe, so I can stay there whenever I need to. Even when he won't be there, like this weekend. My mom's response: "What will you eat?!?" My response: "There are lots of restaurants in Santa Fe, Mom." Her response: "But it's a boys apartment, there won't be anything in the fridge." My response: "Mom, there's nothing in my fridge at home, either." I really don't have the heart to tell her how rarely I eat out of my fridge.

On that note, I called in a to-go order of a club with soup from the all-time home of comfort food known as Christie Mae's last night. When I got home, I discovered they'd given me the wrong order. Disappointment subsided when the order I got was the Acapulco Chicken, a far superior dish. I really only missed the cornbread.

When I did my time sheet this morning, I was shocked to discover I've only worked 65 hours this week. ONLY, by the way. It's felt like a lot more. I think that has something to do with the commute... Some days we work 16+ hours. Thankfully, working for Kathy Zimmer has prepared me well. The last year or so of college, it was habit to work in the office all day, get food, and come back to bartend. Those days weren't that bad, it was the day after that was horrible. The problem is, now, I don't get the day after off.

Only 8 more days of this job left. That's 8 straight days. I'm working straight through the weekend. Honestly, I'm not even scared of being unemployed. I'm just so excited for it to be over.

The term of state contract.

On Saturday, I started bragging about being around all these sick people and not getting sick. Half an hour later, my throat started hurting. It's been down hill ever since.

Moral of the story: Working a lot when you're a lot of sick is a lot of suck.

I've found something I like about Santa Fe. It took me a while. But, it has that small town-after rain smell. I missed that.

Fly away, breakaway.

I guess it's okay to tell you I work at the State Capitol. You have no idea what I could be doing at the State Capitol! I could be a janitor, a food service worker, a secretary, an analyst, a lobbyist, a press assistant... there are many jobs one can have at the Capitol.

Anyway, I was at the Capitol until 9:15 last night. Working. The first of what I'm sure will be many 13 hour days. By the kindness of my boss's heart, he's letting me come in an hour later this morning, which means I got up at 6:25, not 5:15. But dudes, I was right. Early's still early.

Call the DOT to make a warning sign. Cat's a zombie today.

She's the best of everything.

I know, I know. Imma bad blogger. But I work a lot. About the only thing I want to do when I get home is eat. Then preferably see an amazing person that will let me whine about work for a few hours, then go to bed. It's 9:30. Guess where I am? If you said in bed, you're correct.

But, on with blog.


How I watched Obama Day.

If this picture does not indicate where I work, then... Bad New Mexican! Bad! No, actually working there is the first time I've been in the Capitol in years. WHOOPS. Did I type that?!?

New job is going pretty alright. People seem to want to give me fancy job titles that, in all actuality, don't mean a whole lot. I got "promoted" from what I thought my original job would be. That means I make more money, but I seem to have an almost identical job. People tell me that'll change in a month or so, but I'm skeptical. People always seem to tell me my job is going to be a lot more than it actually is. Am I really good at avoiding work or...?

I will tell you that's it's super awesome to hear the older women in this place talk about how excited they were to vote for Obama. Makes my heart glow.

Commute is still balls. The train's been on time, but that doesn't stop the fact I have to be up early. For the most part, I feel like early is early. If I've got to be up prior to 8am, it's early. But, 5:15am... that's a whole nother early. I guess I'll just spend the next two months of my life super tired. I'm not proud to say that Starbucks has become my morning BFF. I feel like butt if I don't have some kind of caffeine before I get on the train. And drinking Dr. Pepper prior to 10am just doesn't feel right.

BUT. HEY. What happens when you get trapped in an ice storm?


You drink a lot of Lost Lake. That's what.

I'll be honest and tell you that ice storm sort of ruled. I mean, I got an involuntary vacation. I got oh so lucky in getting stuck with Chelsey. She and I have pretty much the exact idea of fun, which is hanging out on a couch and watching game shows. Then, when you get bored with that, you throw ice balls at neighbors you don't like. Then, when you get bored with that, you walk to Walgreens and buy a Snuggie.


No really, we had a super good time.


This is what Ice Storm looks like.

Sort of. This is ice that's melted off a roof and crashed into ice that hasn't melted on the ground. Just imagine everything in your world. Now, put a sheet of ice on top of it. That's an ice storm.

This postsecret, as previously posted about, has proved to be one of the biggest catalysts of change I have ever witnessed. I think we, as New Mexicans, have all thought about it. Now, a lot of us seem to be doing it; sort of a mass exodus. It's really exciting and intense, the thought of leaving. But, I think coming home is just as big of a rush, regardless of how long I've been gone. I told Ashley tonight I was portable. It made a lot of sense.

Speaking of change, I decided it was time for some. Out of thin air, and a bit of luck, I visited Emily Stone at her first official day of hair cutting at Casa Verde and she took off a good six inches. I absolutely love it. I had no idea there was actual hair under all that death and damage. I also spent a lot of money on Aveda products, in an attempt to look, feel and smell better (that stuff smells sooooo good). AND I booked an herbal salt glow at Betty's. The point is, if I'm going to be working so much, I need to take care of myself. I feel better already.

Now. If only a museum would hire me...