Feeling sheepish

I know I know I know I know I know!!!!!

I'm a terrible fibber!  I keep saying I'm going to post, and then I don't.  Do good intentions count for anything?

So, as I sit here with the latest Bulls pre-season game on the TV, I'll make my latest effort to do a blog post.  I'm in a holding pattern at the moment: I still haven't heard back about the copy editing test, and I have no idea if they just hated my work or if they've been too busy to deal with it.  Meanwhile, there's the possibility I'll get sucked back in to the place I worked last year: this is something that just came up this afternoon, so I don't know if it's really something that will work out, for them or for me, but there's been a change of management since I fled, and it might be doable.  Or not.  Lots of variables and questions, but I'm going to go talk to them a week from Thursday, and we'll see what's what.

Yeah, vague.  I know.  At any rate, it's ego-boosting and flattering to be asked.

Early voting started in Illinois yesterday, and I went over to vote - it's not as if I ever had any doubt how I was going to vote, so I might as well get 'er done.  The election judges, bless their hearts, they try: but, for instance, when you are assigning numbers to people waiting to vote, so you can call them in numerical order, it really works better if you assign each number to only one person, so that when you call each number, only one person comes forward... not, oh, say, two.  They went with the less good option.  They also had nowhere near enough pens for people to use to fill out the application cards they needed to fill out to vote early.

But it's done, and it felt good to get it done.

The house continues to be a slight money pit: latest outlay was $1,400 to have the furnace fixed, since the onset of cooler weather made it clear it had stopped working.  It's a high-efficiency furnace we bought some time in the early years of living here, in the early 2000s, so it was definitely worth repairing instead of replacing - but ouch.

My moving-related anxiety dreams have mostly stopped.  I do keep having dreams about Jerry in which something is wrong: in the latest iteration, he was leaving me for some reason - he didn't want to be with me anymore.  (He also had some large tattoos in Tibetan script in bands across his abdomen.) I'm not sure I understand what's going on with those, unless it's a subconscious feeling that he abandoned me by dying. Which doesn't make a whole lot of sense to me as a possibility, but things that don't make sense are a hallmark of this whole widowhood thing, aren't they?

Sorry - I'm running out of steam here.  Three-point Bulls game, 44 seconds to go. Let's go, Bulls.