The Laundry Still is Undone

Whew. That was a lot before 9pm. Suffice it to say, we're fine, he's adorable, and I'm just about smitten. I have to laugh at the daily roller coaster that this has become. But yes, I went over the apartment, sans a ride from Sista Girl so I couldn't lug my clothes, so I am in no better place, clothing-wise, than I was yesterday. Not to worry, we will try again today, after my meeting with The Paper.

This morning I had a phone interview with RLJ Companies for a summer internship. The guy said that I was in the top five or six students from My College that they chose to interview, so we'll wait and see. The spot's in Bethesda, MD, so I might come back with an armful of bangles to boot.

Last night was actually fun, I made Oatmeal Cranberry cookies and everyone (Top Chef, Motown Lover, Artist Friend, and occasionally, the Boy) just sat around and chatted about random stuff, including the topic of various names for future children or just interesting names in general. Among the mentioned monikers were:

The Good: Madison, Ella, Rachel, Ellis, Taylor, Chauncey, Talulah
The Funny: Consuela, Conchita, el Concepcion, Fatima (emphasis on "fat"), Carlota, Jezebelle, Cleofis, Hortense, Talulah Bankhead, Bernice, Bertha, Norma Jean, Pearl, Mildred...

Clearly the names got more and more ridiculous as time wore on. Funny stuff.

Anyway, this morning my mom called me about an internship that I'd forgotten to apply for (my computer wasn't working, and it slipped my mind). Slightly annoyed, I sort of rushed her off of the phone to avoid hearing her fuss. Later, during lunch, I got a phone call from the school's counseling service requesting a meeting with me. When I asked why, she said she'd tell me when I came. I was puzzled for a second, then, rolling my eyes heavenward, I asked, "Did you talk to my mother?"

Pause. "Well, yes."

Dear Lord.

I went, though. It was whatever. I don't know if the lady was expecting me to cut open a vein or something, but I was mad uncomfortable the whole time. I might go back though, just to have someone to talk to. Might.

Now that I think about it, let me go apply for the position before my mom calls the Surgeon General on me, or something.