Still no luck on the job front, I turned down a job because I really couldn’t see myself actually wanting to get out of bed on a daily basis to do mind-numbing work that I wasn’t really passionate about.
I have a few prospects still on the horizon, so there is hope that I’ll find something.
I got my severance cheque yesterday, so I feel a little less stupid for being so choosy about my next career move, but settling is not in my nature.
The rest of my day was spent on a day with a guy who “[I] would totally like” according to a good friend. He was cool, and we got along effortlessly – so much so, that we managed to spend six hours together without any real lulls in the conversation.
We talked about my adoptive parents, and I explained that they are white, which, come to think about it, isn’t necessarily a conversation I have to have a lot. It’s pretty much a non-issue amongst my friends from home because we’ve grown up together, and very few of my university friends have had the occasion to meet my parents, with the notable exception of a few sorors.
We were talking about music while he drove us to lunch, and I couldn’t help but cringe at the music. It was commercial radio, so it wasn’t entirely his fault, but FFS! Is this what passes for music these days? I didn’t recognize any of it. I admitted I listen to a little country, but only the old stuff, which is more like folk than the poppy crap that passes for New Country.
He chortled, then admitted that he enjoys Nickelback (BARF!). I do not even want to hear about Nickelback unless the end of that sentence is -dying in a fiery bus crash.
Everything was going swimmingly until I made the mistake of asking him exactly why he didn’t drink. Any guesses?
He’s a MORMON!
Uh, no judgment I guess. I guess that explains why he was so charming? I have yet to meet a non-charming Mormon, and looks-wise, he was right up my alley. I wonder if my friend knows that he’s Mormon, regardless, it really shouldn’t be that big of a deal.
He was pleasantly surprised that I didn’t really have anything witty to say about it, and that I didn’t hound him about the drinking thing. Honestly? Couldn’t care less. Yes, I enjoy drinking, but if there is a legitimate reason behind you not drinking, I’m totally OK with that.
Other than some differences in faith, and our stance on children (he really wants them – he was mentioning adoption, and I am kinda anti-kid right now) we have a surprising amount in common.
He’s definitely parent-friendly, and extremely chivalrous (seriously, I could get used to not opening doors again – these T-Rex arms need a break).
I just don’t know.
He drove me home after an extended lunch, which turned into an extended coffee-break at the Starbucks down the street.
I mentioned hitting up the grocery store, and he to explain to him the intricacies of my shopping list and that it was impossible to get everything from my list from one grocer, so I alternated between the two that my building bisects.
He offered to drop me off, and I accepted, because I’m lazy and did not feel like walking off my food baby.
He walked with me to the front doors of the grocer and offered to shop with me (his logic being that I would need some help getting home – ok, stalker, LOL)
I had a mini breakdown by the eggs when I thought they were out of my regular (vegetarian-feed yuppie eggs). He noted that he liked the juxtaposition of the organic food in my basket with the Twinkies and corn dogs that bookended it.
I was planning on drunkenly calling him tonight mid-festivities to arrange a second date, but I decided against going out because my uterus hurts, so that will have to wait.