Strangest Day Ever

So, remember when I told you all that I blew the interview for the job I went to graduate school to get and I was very sad and mopey and very much the "leave me alone or I will spill out my uncontrollable rage on you" type of girl? Me too...um, sorry about that.

I got a job.

I got the job I blew the interview for.

I got the job I was convinced I didn't get.

I got the job I went to graduate school to get.

Huh.

And to think I was going to consider today a success if I didn't fall down again, seeing as how I had on the potentially dangerous shoes and was taking the potentially dangerous bus at the exact same potentially dangerous time as last week.

This morning I had a meeting with a guy who does library temping placements and he was super nice and kind of a jolly old man which I never expect to come across in job interview situations (not that it's ever happened before today) and I left feeling pretty good about what he had to say. Except when he said, "It won't pay the rent but it's better than getting poked in the eye with a pointy stick." I wasn't really sure how I felt about that.

Then I got home (safely, no fall, not even a wobble) and there was a message from the library temping chick I met with last week with an interview opportunity for a long-term temp. That's good, right? I didn't really want to temp, but again, I have zero dollars (although I did get a cut of my dad's refund...he's nice) so I can't really be picky but I have to move fairly soon and temping I don't think would make that happen so much.

Then the phone rings again and I don't answer it because I'm trying to eat my sandwich while the house reeks of paint fumes and that requires concentration.

The message is from Library Lady and she wants me to call her back. I immediately think, "Why is she calling me all this time later just to tell me I didn't get the job? That's kind of mean."

So I call her back and she offers me a job.

And I am rendered incapable of speech and kind of blabber on and tell her I need to call back because, you know, this job had been mourned. I had gone through the five stages of grief for this job. I know it seemed like I got a little caught up in anger, which I did, but I swear I really did move on.

I call my sister, genius-at-large, and tell her I don't know what to do because hey, I could temp or I could get the job I've been working toward for two years. Her response?

"So what's your question?"

Exactly.